Survival Clause, стр. 50

Fourteen

“What’s this about Noah Trent?” Grimaldi wanted to know as soon as the car doors were shut behind us. She inserted the key in the ignition and started the car.

“I’m sorry,” I said, pulling the seatbelt across my body and fastening it. “I assumed Rafe had told you. When we were at Beulah’s last night, before all the hoopla with the video and then the picture of Carrie—”

She nodded.

“We asked Mo—Maureen, the waitress—if she knew anything about Jurgensson and the kid he had the affair with. She’s around the same age Laura Lee would be, so we figured she might have attended Columbia High around that time, too.”

“And she named Noah Trent.” The SUV rolled down the long driveway to the street.

I nodded. “And told us he couldn’t be involved in the murders because he’s dead. And has been for about a decade.”

“That does seem like it would give him an alibi,” Grimaldi agreed, “at least for two –thirds of the victims. I can’t really see how he would be connected.”

I couldn’t, either. If the thing with Jurgensson had happened twenty-five or thirty years ago, and Laura Lee’s murder had happened sixteen or seventeen years ago, and Noah had killed himself ten years ago, there was no connection there that I could see. The incident with Jurgensson hadn’t triggered Laura Lee’s murder, and her murder hadn’t triggered Noah Trent’s suicide.

“We can probably eliminate Noah Trent from suspicion,” Grimaldi agreed. “Although I’d still like to track down Jurgensson. If nothing else, I’d like to make sure he’s still alive and nobody did away with him.”

“My uncle said he used to play golf with Jurgensson occasionally. And that one of the others kept in touch with him for a while after he left. Uncle Sid said he—Jurgensson—worked some menial job in Tucson or Tupelo last he heard.”

“What’s your uncle’s friend’s name?”

“Art Mullinax,” I said. “He lives north of Columbia somewhere, not too far from Fulton Street. That’s what Uncle Sid said. On something called Daffodil Hill Farm. I’ve never heard of it. But you should probably check with Rafe before you go over there. He went with me to Aunt Regina’s and Uncle Sid’s house yesterday, so he knows about Mullinax already.” And unlike Grimaldi and me, it was his actual job to follow up on leads.

“Call him,” Grimaldi said.

I resisted the urge to salute, but just barely. “Yes, ma’am.”

She gave me a look, but didn’t comment. I pulled my phone out and dialed my husband’s number.

It took a few seconds, but then he picked up. “Darlin’.”

“Quick question,” I said. “Grimaldi and I have been to see the Drimmels, Laura Lee Matlock’s parents. Turns out Curtis—the kid from the other night—is her son.”

Grimaldi took her eyes off the road to stare at me. Rafe just sounded amused. “No kidding?”

“No. Mrs. Drimmel has a photograph of him on the mantel. I recognized him. Besides, same name.”

“Small world,” Rafe said.

“Small town. Anyway, Noah Trent’s name came up. Turns out he was Laura Lee’s boyfriend at some point.”

“The kid who was involved with the Latin teacher?”

“The same. Grimaldi wants to go talk to Uncle Sid’s friend, the one who was in contact with Jurgensson after he left here. Mullinax.”

“OK,” Rafe said.

“We’re making sure you haven’t already done that.”

“No. I’m working on the last murder. Not the first.”

Of course. “Are you getting anywhere?”

“We’re still making lists of trucking companies,” Rafe said, “and drivers. Right now, we have about thirty suspects who came through the truck stop in the time period we figure Ramona’s body was left. Now we gotta cross-check their schedules with the other murders.”

Some of which went back more than fifteen years. “It sounds like a big job.”

“They don’t come much bigger. Go on and have fun. I’ll be at the sheriff’s office if you need me.”

He sounded ready to hang up. “Just one more thing,” I said quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Anything on the stalker? Did Vasim Rehman manage to figure out the license plate?”

“Not so far as I’ve heard,” Rafe said, “but he’s in Columbia and I’m in Sweetwater. I’ll check with him.”

I told him I’d appreciate it. “I don’t want to pile anything more on your plate—”

The silence was loud.

“—but have you considered whether you ought to call Ginny and Sam?”

The silence got even louder for a few seconds. Then it exploded. “Shit.”

“Relax,” I told him. “Chances are this person doesn’t know you well enough to know you have another child, let alone who David is or where to find him. We haven’t made a big deal out of his relationship to you.”

“No,” Rafe agreed, but he sounded distracted.

“But like you said the other night, better safe than sorry. They should probably hear what’s going on. And from you.” Or I’d call David’s parents myself.

“Sure thing, darlin’. I’ll call’em right now.”

He was gone before I could say goodbye. I turned back to Grimaldi. “You heard him, right? We can go ahead and talk to Mullinax.”

She nodded. “You two worried about the kids?”

I nodded. “Rafe showed you the social media post, right? All it said was ‘beautiful baby’ and ‘she looks just like her daddy,’ both of which are true. And that’s not exactly threatening, I guess…”

“Not exactly,” Grimaldi agreed, stabbing at the computer screen extending from the dashboard of the car.

“But I don’t like how this woman is zeroing in. Following Rafe around and taking pictures of him is one thing. Posting pictures of his baby online is something different. I realize that everybody knows everybody in a small town, pretty much—”

I’d grown up in Sweetwater, and I had a pretty good idea who all of Sheriff Satterfield’s deputies were and where they lived.

“—and Rafe being who he is, and me being who I am, everybody would know where