Survival Clause: A Savannah Martin Novel (Savannah Martin Mysteries Book 20), стр. 11
“Will you have to go to Nashville to investigate?”
“No,” Rafe said. “Tammy’s called in a favor from a friend.”
“Not Goins, I hope?”
Detective Goins with the MNPD was a former colleague of Grimaldi’s, and a particular thorn in my side. A few months ago, he had pulled a gun on Rafe while my husband was holding my daughter. I didn’t think I’d get over that anytime soon.
“No,” Rafe said, sounding amused. “And not Jaime Mendoza, either, before you can ask. You don’t waste a homicide detective on this.”
“Why not?” It was a homicide, wasn’t it?
“They have cases of their own to investigate,” Rafe said. “Tammy asked Spicer and Truman to ask questions. They’re driving around the neighborhood all day anyway.”
Our Nashville neighborhood, I assumed. Spicer and Truman were the two patrol officers who had responded to my 911 call the day we—Rafe and I—discovered Brenda Puckett dead in Mrs. Jenkins’s house on Potsdam Street.
“I guess we’re talking about the truck stop on Trinity Lane?”
“No idea,” Rafe said. “There are several of’em along the interstate in that part of town. When Miz Mitchell was picked up last time, she was walking up and down Dickerson Road.”
Of course she was. “So Spicer and Truman are going there?”
“They’re going everywhere,” Rafe said. “To Dickerson Road, to the truck stop on Trinity Lane and the one next to the bridge on James Robertson. It’s a long shot, but if we—if they—can figure out where she worked these days, maybe they can find someone who saw her leave with this guy.”
“And you’re sure you don’t need to be there?”
“Spicer and Truman can handle it,” Rafe said. “I’m better off trying to find someone who saw what happened here.”
“Didn’t Bob do that last night?”
“Yes,” Rafe said, “but it gotta be done again this morning. Different people at different times of day.”
That made sense. “So you’ll be careful? In case this nutcase follows you around?”
“If all she’s gonna do is shoot pictures,” Rafe said, “I ain’t that worried.”
Well, no. Seeing as he’d been shot by something other than a camera last month, I could understand that a cell phone didn’t worry him much. But— “Elspeth ended up with a gun.”
“She didn’t try to shoot me,” Rafe pointed out.
No. “She did try to shoot me, though. And came pretty close to taking you out at the same time.”
“I’ll be careful.” Something rustled on his end of the line and he added, “I gotta go.”
“I love you,” I said quickly.
“Love you too, darlin’. Take care of my baby.”
He hung up before I could respond. Charlotte was still watching her own phone, and I asked her, “Any way to figure out who this person is?”
“From the Facebook profile?” Charlotte shook her head. “I’ve been looking at it. It’s brand new. Created yesterday. The name is obviously fake. Nobody’s really named Jessica Rabbit.”
No. Or at least it seemed unlikely.
“Does she have a profile photo? Can we try some kind of facial recognition software?”
“A picture of Jessica Rabbit for the profile,” Charlotte said. “No headline picture. Nothing on the timeline except the video from this morning.”
“Not even the video from last night?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t like it,” I said.
Charlotte nodded. “I get that. I don’t like it, either.”
“Maybe we should check the other video. The one from last night. If she saw that, and that’s how she focused in on Rafe, maybe she dropped a heart emoji or a comment.”
Charlotte didn’t answer, and I added, “As herself, I mean. Maybe we could track her down that way.”
“There are at least a thousand comments on that thread,” Charlotte said. “And probably five thousand heart emojis. It would take months to track them all down.”
“Probably not months. Maybe days. But chances are only a few are local. If we can isolate them…”
Charlotte thought about it, and shrugged. “We’re not doing anything else.”
“Come on back to the mansion,” I said, “and I’ll fix you lunch. Then, when Carrie’s napping, we can make a list.”
“And start snooping?”
“I’m game if you are,” I told her. “And if that doesn’t work, we can always follow Rafe around, and see if we can find her that way.”
Charlotte tagged along behind as I headed for the front door. “What was that you were saying about Elspeth Caulfield?”
“That she tried to kill me? “ I glanced at her over my shoulder as I bent to scoop up the baby. “Did I never tell you about that?”
“I don’t think so,” Charlotte said, sounding doubtful.
“Then remind me to do that over lunch. It’s quite the story.”
“I can’t wait,” Charlotte said, and followed me across the threshold and onto the porch.
Four
Back in Sweetwater, I let Carrie nurse herself to sleep while I told Charlotte about Elspeth Caulfield, and how she had ended up trying to kill me. “You know that Elspeth talked her way into Rafe’s bed in high school, right? Or invited him into hers, or just pulled him off into a field somewhere?”
Charlotte nodded.
“He graduated and was arrested for fighting with Billy Scruggs. She got pregnant and didn’t tell him about it, because he was in prison. She had the baby and her father made her give it up for adoption.”
“And that’s David,” Charlotte said.
“That’s David.” Who was living in Nashville with his adoptive parents, very happily. “Twelve years went by. Rafe got out of prison and started working for the TBI. LaDonna died, and he figured out who his father was, and that his grandmother was still alive. He showed up in Nashville, and ended up calling me to show him the house on Potsdam Street.”
Charlotte nodded.
“Rafe and I danced around each other for a few months, and during that time, I ended up talking to Elspeth about him. She decided she wanted him back. I think she had a plan for getting David away from the Flannerys, too, and she