Chapter 123

Chapter 123
Chapter Title: The Pieces

Reynolds

We took one of the estate’s golf carts to the guest cabin I’d heard Lena mention. Theo had apparently been hired to renovate it.

The cabin was about a mile from the main estate.
Construction equipment and supplies were scattered everywhere. Tools sat on workbenches. Lumber leaned against the walls. Boxes of fixtures were stacked in the corners.

Nobody was inside, but we searched the place anyway.

Then we checked the docks.

The wooden dock led to a stone staircase that descended into the water. Senator Williamson’s yacht was moored beside it.

“Lena mentioned the cabin was near an old stable,” I said. “But there aren’t any other pathways except the one leading to the cabin.”

“The Williamsons tend to horses?” Tate scoffed. “They don’t even own a dog.”

“Maybe Divine’s parents or grandparents did.” I glanced toward the darkening sky. “Anyway, it’s too late to go looking for it. Sun’s setting, and we still need to stop by the station. I want to know whose hair was found in the butt of Hastings’s gun.”

But when we got to the precinct, that was the first piece of bad news we got.

“We didn’t get a match,” the tech said. “And we have nothing else to compare it to.”

I shook my head. “Ace and Archer served in the military, but the military has strict privacy protocols. I can’t force Ace to give us his DNA without a warrant. And to get one, I need probable cause.”

“And that includes the Williamsons," Tate said, yawning. “Well, we have men keeping an eye on the diner and the marina. I’ll contact the Coast Guard and let them know we’re looking for Archer.”

“Rebecca?” I asked.

Tate’s ex was part of the Coast Guard.

She nodded. “I need to bypass the usual channels. We have less than twenty-four hours until the Senator’s birthday party.”

She gave me a tired wave. “See ya.”

Then she left me on my own.

I was talking to Nick when Martha Jones walked in.

The old woman’s eyes were swollen from crying. In her hands, she held an envelope.

“Mrs. Jones.” I walked over to her. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Is there something I can do for you?”

She nodded.

I escorted her into one of the interview rooms and offered her a chair. Then I waited until she was ready.

“Clyde was a nosy man,” she began. “I always told him that if he stuck his nose far enough into other people’s business, it might come back to hurt him. But to kill him?” Her voice cracked. “That isn’t right.”

She gently placed the envelope in my hand.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Before Clyde called the FBI agent, he wrote a note.” She swallowed. “I found it on his desk. Maybe it will help bring Clyde’s killer to justice.”

I opened the envelope. The note was addressed to Kathy.

I scanned the contents.

Clyde had seen Kimberly at the marina, visiting Archer on his boat. Several times. She had tried to disguise herself, but Clyde knew it was her.

Then, on the morning Emma and Cole were abducted, he had seen Archer with another man.
They were carrying something heavy onto a boat.

I looked at Martha. “Has Calvin seen this?”

She shook her head. “Just me.”

“Right now, there isn’t enough evidence pointing to Archer Ryder,” I explained. “Promise me you won’t go looking for him.”

“As much as I want to, Blake, I don’t have it in me.” Martha rose slowly from her chair. “I just want whoever did this to Clyde to go to jail…” Her eyes filled with tears again. “For a long time.”

She reached the door, then stopped.

“And please…” Her voice trembled. “Bring my grandson home.”

“I will,” I promised.

After she left, I walked into the conference room and stared at the whiteboard where all the major players in the case were pinned.

Nick walked in and stopped beside me.

“Hank and Kimberly stayed at the Four Seasons,” he said.

I glanced at him.

“Anyway, Chief Morgan saw what I was doing. He said Emma and Cole took a trip to Miami around the same time. Allison couldn’t go because she was sent to New York.”

“They did?”

“Yeah. They stayed at an Airbnb. And get this—the Senator had a conference there and brought Ace with him as an added security detail.”

I stared at the photographs on the board.

“So all of them went to Florida to support Senator Williamson,” I said dryly. “Doesn’t prove anything.”I paused. “See if Archer was there. Maybe there’s a connection between all of them.”

“I’ll look into it.” Then he left.

I stayed in the conference room for another few minutes, staring at the photographs.

Then exhaustion finally won. I fell asleep in the bunk room.

I woke to Tate nudging my shoulder.

“We’re needed at the estate,” she said.

I rubbed my eyes. “What happened?”

“The caterer, band, DJ, party planner, and dancers are starting to arrive.”

I groaned. Of course they were.

The Senator’s birthday party was officially underway.

It was a long morning.

By the afternoon, we'd checked almost everything that had entered the Williamson estate.

Every server.

Every piece of security equipment.

Every delivery truck.

Every catering van. We checked for oversized platters that could hold a human body.

Every rental company.

Every contractor.

Every employee who had been on the property in the days leading up to the party.

The FBI had gone through the security footage. They saw no one enter the property while Hank, his father, his mother, and Ace were gone.

I found Ace outside, overseeing everything, his FBI escort a few feet away. He looked exhausted. Like he'd slept on a couch.

"How do I get to the old stables?" I asked.

"You need to go past the cabin, the artificial pond, and the greenhouse. Since the pond and greenhouse haven't been in use since Divine's mother died, the path leading to the stables has disappeared," he said. "Do you want me to show you where it is?"

I glanced at my watch. "Maybe you can show your escort where it is."

I spotted Hank and the Senator talking to the party planner.

"Where's Divine?"

"She's getting dolled up," Ace said. "Guests will be arriving soon."

He glanced at me.

"You should head home and shave."

Then he sniffed.

"When was the last time you took a shower?"

"Reynolds, go on home."

Chief Morgan's voice came from behind me.

"I'll handle it from here. With no other leads, this is the best one I have for finding my daughter. I'll keep an eye on everything until you get back."

By dusk, I was standing in the main conference room in my tuxedo, staring at everything we'd gathered.

And I still couldn't see the whole picture.

Photographs covered the whiteboard. I stared at them, trying to connect them without forcing connections that weren't there.

I believed Archer couldn't have done this alone.

He had help.

If it wasn't Ace, who?

Kimberly had met with him at the marina. What if her abduction wasn't an abduction at all?

What if she'd been part of the plan?

The door opened behind me.

"I knew I'd find you here."

I turned.

Tate walked in wearing a tuxedo of her own. Her red, curly hair was tied into a neat bun at the back of her head.

She had a piece of paper in her hand.

She looked at the photographs.

"What do we know so far?"

I pointed toward Divine's photograph.

"Divine Williamson. Possible next target. Motive: revenge."

Tate nodded as she pinned the paper she'd brought to the board.

It was a printout of the photograph of the girl and Hank.

I stared at it.

Kelly Lawrence.

And in the picture, Hank was kissing her cheek.

They'd been involved.

And Hank was definitely the father of her baby.

I moved to the next piece of evidence.

"The spoofed call came from the Williamson estate. It lured Hank to Pocomoke."

"Actually, it lured everyone out," Tate said. "It could've been a decoy so the suspect could enter the property."

"But there are cameras all over this place. The FBI already went through the footage. They didn't find anything."

"But there aren't cameras on the docks."

I nodded. "And the Coast Guard is practically blind when it comes to small fleet vessels."

Tate crossed her arms. "But the Coast Guard did mention encountering an R. Ryder on the Pocomoke River. At the time, you were looking for whoever killed that dock worker and abducted Emma and Cole."

She stepped closer to the board.

"I asked for a description, and all I got was dark hair with white. That isn't Archer, though. That leans more toward the Senator, which is weird as hell. Why would a senator lie about who he is?"

Tate walked closer to the board.

"Anyway, according to the Snow Hill marina, an R. Ryder rented a boat. He must've been returning when the Coast Guard encountered him. They swept the area, but they didn't find anyone else on board except two companions."

"Who?"

"A woman with long brown hair and a man with dark hair."

"Kimberly and Cole?"

Tate shook her head. "I showed them photographs of everyone. Kimberly, Emma, Cole, Kathy, Hank, and Ace. Neither person matched any of them."

I leaned against the table. "Well, now we've established Ryder has help."

"Or two other hostages," Tate countered.

I considered that. "Could be."

I handed her the letter Clyde had written.

Tate skimmed through it and rolled her eyes. "You do know that Clyde had a nickname, right?"

I frowned. "No."

"He was called Clydemouth because he gossiped about everyone," Tate said. "That's how he fell out of Divine's good graces."

I ran a hand through my hair. Clyde apparently wasn't a reliable source.

I moved Hank's photograph beside Archer's.

"The Senator told us he and Hank shared the same boat heading to Snow Hill. But Hank said he used his own. The mechanic in Snow Hill confirmed it."

Tate narrowed her eyes. "Maybe we got it wrong. Maybe they used the same boat heading back."

I nodded slowly. "Valid point. I called Snow Hill PD. Hank's house is undergoing renovations and repairs, but there's an alternate dwelling unit in the back. Neighbors said they've seen quite a number of people entering and exiting. At the moment, it's empty."

I tapped Hank's photograph.

"Hank also told us he and Kimberly went to Florida around the same time Kathy was stationed there. Those three, aside from Archer, have the same beef with Divine."

Tate studied the photographs. "Do you think they saw each other there?"

"It's a possibility." I picked up my notes. "I called the hotel where Hank and Kimberly supposedly stayed. The staff said they rarely stayed at the hotel."

Tate shrugged. "It is Miami. And Hank said he had a good time."

"Maybe." I set the notes down. "Then Chief tells Nick that Emma and Cole went there too, right around the same time. Nick did some digging and discovered the Senator had a conference in Miami. He brought Ace with him. But this is what makes it interesting."

Tate waited.

"I had Nick check whether Archer made his way to Florida."

"And?"

"He did. By bus. Brianna was with him. She documented the whole thing on her socials."

"We need to bring her in for questioning."

I shook my head. "I already called her. She was asleep during the day after all the partying. She doesn't know if Archer ever left the Airbnb they rented. And she didn't see Hank, Cole, or Emma."

Tate stared at me. "So everyone entangled in all this met in Miami?"

"Seems like it."

"Seems like a pretty big coincidence."

"It does."

"Did you ask Ace about this?"

"I did."

"And?"

"He said his brother went to Miami to soak up some sun. It was a harsh winter here in Crisfield."

Tate gave me a look. "That's his explanation?"

"That's his explanation."

"Did he admit knowing Hastings before she arrived in Crisfield?"

"No. He denies knowing her."

Tate shook her head. "You can't establish a conspiracy without solid evidence, Reynolds."

"I know."

I looked at the photographs again.

She was right.

We had pieces.

But pieces weren't proof.

"Let's focus on what we both know," Tate continued. "Kathy has been abducted. Kimberly, Emma and Cole were abducted before her."

She pointed toward Archer's photograph.

"Kathy has an alibi. Archer doesn't. My money is on him." She paused. "And as for help? Archer could easily hire someone. Someone he met when he was in prison for assault or any of his father's old crew."

I didn't answer immediately.

Archer had motive.

He had opportunity.

But we had no idea where he was.

But there was still something bothering me.

The Ryder number.

The spoofed call.

Miami.

Snow Hill.

The Williamson estate.

Too many stories.

Too many coincidences.

And somewhere among them was the truth.

My phone vibrated. I answered.

"Detective Reynolds," Howard greeted me.

"Go ahead."

"Guests are beginning to arrive."

I glanced toward Tate.

She straightened her jacket.

"Looks like showtime."

I looked once more at the photographs.

The party was happening.

Exactly as the suspect wanted.

Now we just had to figure out why.