Long Shadows

Chapter 21

“Yes?” said the man, who was in his sixties, with salt-and-pepper hair, and a loose, couch-potato frame.

Andrews flashed his badge and said, “We’re here to see Patty Kelly. And you are?”

“I am her husband, Steve Kelly. Is this about the judge?”

“Yes. How’d you hear?”

“Someone from the court called here this morning.”

“And your wife?”

“Patty’s not here.”

Decker said, “She called in sick today.”

“She didn’t sleep well last night. She had time off she needed to take, so she did.”

“Do you know where she went?”

“Maybe to the store. She mentioned last night she had some shopping to do. She was gone when I got back in the house from working outside. Probably went to just take her mind off the judge. She’s been gone a few hours now.”

“Can you call her?” asked Decker. “And let her know we’re waiting?”

“Sure.” Kelly took out his phone and called. It went right to voice mail, so he left a message. “I’m sure she’ll call right back. She always does.”

Five minutes later his phone had not rung.

Decker said, “Try texting her.”

He did and they waited another five minutes.

“What store?” said White.

“Well, she was going to quite a few. But she usually saves the grocery shopping for last. At the Harris Teeter, just up the road. You might have passed it.”

“What kind of car does she drive?” asked Andrews.

“White Toyota Camry. She’s got a vanity plate. ‘SUNNY.’ As in Florida sunny.”

Decker looked at Andrews. “Why don’t you wait here in case she comes back. We’ll check out the Harris Teeter. Whoever sees her calls the other.” He eyed Kelly. “Got a picture of your wife handy?”

Kelly took a framed photo off the shelf and held it out. White took a picture of it with her phone.

Decker glanced at the photo. Patty Kelly was an attractive woman in her early sixties with white-blondish hair cut to the shape of her head. She had a trim figure and stood about five-five. Intriguingly, she looked familiar to him for some reason. And it was surprising that he could not pull that memory up instantly from his personal cloud.

Well, the Cognitive Institute said I was in for more changes. Maybe this is one of them.

He and White got into the rental and drove off to the Harris Teeter.

They were on the lookout for the white Camry with the SUNNY plates on the way there, but didn’t see it. Decker drove through the parking lot looking for the car, while White went inside the Harris Teeter to search for the woman.

Twenty minutes later they both had come up empty. They drove back to Kelly’s house. Steve Kelly had tried calling his wife multiple times without luck.

“Did she get any calls before she left?” asked Decker.

Kelly checked the landline, but the latest message on there was a recorded voice from the previous night announcing a great financial opportunity in gold futures if the Kellys called back right away.

“How about her cell phone?” asked White.

“I don’t know. Like I said, I was out in back doing yard work earlier. I wouldn’t have heard her phone ring from out there.” Kelly looked at them nervously. “I’m sure she’s... I mean, nothing could have happened to her, could it?”

None of them answered his question.

Decker said, “If you hear from her, will you tell her to call us?” He handed the man one of his cards.

“Right away. I’m sure she’ll be back soon. Probably be back any minute now.” As soon as he finished he looked off into the distance, his mouth agape, and his eyes slitted in worry.

As they drove away, Andrews said, “What do you think?”

“I think potential witnesses keep disappearing on us. Let’s go to a place where that can’t happen,” said Decker.

“Where’s that?” asked White.

“Alan Draymont’s home. He’s not there, but there might be something to help us.”

“But he lives back near Miami,” said Andrews. “That’s over four hours roundtrip from here.”

“You got something else to do today?” retorted Decker.

“What do you think about Mrs. Kelly?” interjected White.

“She worked with the judge, probably knew things about her nobody else would. And now she might have vanished.”

“Surely her husband would have seen someone kidnap her,” countered White.

“A phone call or text to lure her out would have done the same thing,” replied Andrews.

Decker eyed him and said, “That’s right. And if she doesn’t turn up voluntarily we have to figure out who that might have been. I’d get her phone records ASAP.”

Andrews got on the phone to do just that and he said he was also putting out an APB on her and her car.

As they drove along, Decker closed his eyes and let everything they had learned, and not learned, settle over him like a layer of fine dust. Yet, frustratingly, all he could see in his mind was Mary Lancaster with a gun in her mouth. He opened his eyes and stared at the back of White’s head as she steered the car.

This is not the time for my brain to go on some weird-ass emotional odyssey.

He watched as Andrews spoke to his folks at the FBI to get the necessary paperwork going to get into Kelly’s phone records and also put out the APB.

Decker wondered how much longer he could keep doing this shit. Part of him didn’t care if he ever solved another case. And that had never happened to him before. Was it Mary’s killing herself? Sandy’s desperate pleas to him? The fact that he hadn’t held his wife, or kissed Molly on the cheek, in years?

His daughter would be a teenager now, in high school. Getting ready for the prom. Getting ready for college, maybe. Getting ready for life. Instead she was lying in a coffin next to her mom’s grave. Through no fault of her own.

That buck stopped with me. Always with me.

Andrews put his phone away, “Okay, the ball is rolling on that.” He eyed Decker. “Did you hear me?”

Decker glanced at the sun, the image of his dead daughter strewn all across its flaming surface. Decker could imagine his brain and imperfect memory burning up, just like the sun.

And maybe that would be the best thing that could happen to him. Because right now, he just didn’t see this ride lasting much longer.