Page 9 of Vanish From Sight (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #2)

Noah tracked down the deputy who had completed the booking and had him bring the suspect over to the sallyport which was a special garage where inmates entered and completed processing.

The new inmate had just finished up getting showered and changing into orange jail clothes and flip flops when Noah arrived.

“You think I can talk with him?”

“We weren’t done processing,” the deputy replied.

“A few minutes, that’s all. ”

“You want me to take him back to the station?”

“Is he a danger?”

“Only to himself,” the deputy added before chuckling.

The deputy brought him into a holding room where there was a simple desk and two chairs. No one-way mirror. A clock on the wall. Noah didn’t sit, he leaned back against the wall, observing the man.

“Aren’t I supposed to g… get a lawyer?” he said with a stutter. Noah got a sense he was a little slow.

“Do you need one?”

“Is that a trick question?”

Noah glanced down at the open folder. “Thomas Green. Thirty-two. Never finished high school. Got your GED later in life. You now work as a cleaner at the high school in High Peaks. Father, Gerald Green, deceased. Mother, Abby Green. Your brother is Eric Green, who did a year inside for breaking and entering. You are a resident of Saranac Lake. The owner of a blue Chevy van. Mid ’80s. That’s old.”

“Belonged to my father.”

“Custom?”

He shrugged. Noah had noticed how the classic American vehicle that at one time symbolized freedom and adventure stood out from modern vans on the road with its sturdy build.

They were often used by families for long road trips.

His van had a sleek yet simple design to it, with bulging side windows and a cool zig-zag decal on the side that added a touch of style.

Unlike the new ones that were glossy, bold, his was weathered and faded.

Noah had peeked inside and nosed around, noticing the plush seats had comfortable cushions.

The dashboard was simple yet functional, and it was sporting an old cassette player and radio.

“The rear was stripped,” Noah said .

“I had no use for the seats or carpet. I need it for carrying cargo.”

“Like dogs you don’t own?” He closed the folder and held it by his side.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Look, I’m not here to grill you.” He crossed the room and took a seat, leaning forward. “I actually might be able to help you.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because I spoke with the shelters in town. Seems your story about dropping off dogs from time-to-time fits.”

“I told him I wasn’t lying. I don’t steal dogs.”

“Then why pick them up?”

“Because someone should.” He paused, staring at Noah. “I told the other guy but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Was that before or after you resisted arrest?”

The man avoided answering that. “Have they contacted my mother?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Can you please find out? She’s bedridden. I look after her.”

“You ever carry anything else in the van?”

He shrugged; his brow knit together. “From time to time.”

“You give people rides?”

“No.”

“And only you use it?”

“Yeah. Look, if you’ve spoken to the shelter, why are you asking these questions?”

Noah didn’t answer that but continued to pepper him with questions, not just for answers but to see how he would react.

Everyone was different under pressure, some would clam up, others would tell you more than they should.

Stories changed. Suspects tripped over their own words. “You ever been out to Pulpit Rock? ”

“Everyone has.”

“I meant through the forest?”

“Of course.”

“You ever found a stray or two out there?”

“I want to speak to my mother.”

Noah leaned back. “Listen to me, Thomas. I can help you but I need you to help me. Those dogs you had in the van. Where did you find them?”

He rattled off the locations and how he’d stumbled across them without any owners nearby.

“Were you on your way to drop them off when the detective arrested you?”

He nodded.

“The shelter closes at five thirty. I managed to catch them before they shut for the rest of the weekend. What do you do with the dogs you find on the weekends when the shelter is closed?”

He was hesitant to respond but eventually did. “I take them home.”

“Any there now?”

He glanced down into his hands, rubbing dark calluses.

“Oh, Thomas?” Noah said, clicking his fingers.

“Three.”

“Three?”

“I… I kept hold of three, for a couple of weeks.”

Noah narrowed his gaze. “Did you find any of those in the last week over by Pulpit Rock?”

He hesitated. “One.”

“What’s the color?”

“Golden. It’s a retriever. It had been out in the rain for a long time. It was matted. Dirty. Bleeding and hungry. I just wanted to hold on to it and keep it safe until…”

“Until you could drop it off? ”

Thomas let out a heavy sigh and nodded.

“So, it was raining the day you found the dog?”

“Um, uh…”

“Why were you out there in the rain?”

“I like to hike.”

“Not an easy place to hike. There aren’t any trails around there.”

“I prefer places out of the way.”

“You see anyone else while you were there?”

“No.”

“Was the dog wearing a collar?”

“No.”

“And you didn’t hear anything? See anyone?”

“I just told you. It was just me out there.”

“What day did you find the dog?”

“Um.” He looked off toward the clock. “Last Wednesday.”

Noah was about to ask a few more questions when there was a knock at the door. A deputy stuck his head in.

“I’ll just be a minute longer,” Noah replied.

“Oh, take your time. Officer Thorne was asking where you were, said there are two women here to see you.”

“Right.” Noah looked back at Thomas. “We’ll continue this later.”

“I thought you said you could help?”

“We have to confirm a few things first, Thomas. Trust me. If you haven’t done anything wrong, we’ll have you out of here ASAP.

Excuse me, I need to go,” he said, heading out and leaving the deputy to continue processing him.

There was a good chance it would all be thrown out on Monday morning but for now he would have to be treated no different than someone stealing property until proven otherwise.

Once Noah made his way back around to the front of the building and into the Sheriff’s Office, he found Lena waiting with a middle-aged Chinese woman.

“Hey,” Lena said. “Noah. This is Hannah Chang.”

The smaller woman with dark black hair offered a hand.

“Give me a second, we’ll bring out the dogs.”

A moment later the two pups appeared, carried by Noah and another deputy, and it was clear from the moment they saw the woman that she was the owner.

They hurried over, whining and panting. She scooped them up with tears in her eyes, saying their names over and over.

A scowl formed. “Is the man who took them in jail?”

“For now.”

“For now? He’s not going to be released, is he?”

“Did you see him take the dogs?”

Almost at the same time, Lena and Hannah replied.

“No,” Hannah said.

“Yes. We have a video,” Lena replied, hoping to clarify. She took out her phone and showed him. The first thing Noah noted was there were two people taking dogs and the van wasn’t the same. It was a bad recording and certainly didn’t offer a good look at the kind of dogs stolen.

“Ma’am, where did you get this video from?” he asked.

Lena was quick to answer that. “She got it from her surveillance.”

“Um. That’s not exactly true,” Hannah said.

Lena offered her a confused expression. “You told me it was from your house?”

“I didn’t say that. I just said I had a video of people stealing French bulldogs.”

Noah sighed. “Ma’am, where did the video come from?”

“The internet.”

Lena rolled her eyes. Hannah picked up on it and defended her actions. “They wouldn’t have believed me or taken action if I didn’t show them something. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. My dogs are back. You have someone in custody.”

“It matters a lot. Where were you when your dogs went missing?” Noah asked.

“At my house.”

“And your dogs?”

“Out in the yard.”

“Was the gate open?”

Hannah stared back.

“Ma’am?”

“He could have taken them from my yard.”

“And you live where?”

She reeled off her address. Noah shook his head.

“According to him, he found them at a park miles from there.”

“You believe him over me?”

“You’re free to go, ma’am. If we need to ask any further questions we’ll be in touch.”

They waited until she left before he turned to Lena. She was quick to clarify. “Hey look, I’m sorry. I assumed what she gave me was related. If he didn’t take those dogs in that video, that means those men are still out there.”

“If that video is even from local surveillance. It could be from anywhere. So is this what Maggie has you working?”

“She did. I might have to go back and have another conversation about getting involved with the woman who was pulled from the lake. By the way, any luck with that?”

“You know I can’t tell you.”

“I’m your ex.”

“Exactly. Who works for the media. Once we know more, you’ll know more.”

“Yeah,” she said, chuckling. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving? ”

He scratched the side of his face. “I promised Ray I would be at my father’s. Would you like to join us?”

“Please. Been there, done that. No thank you.” She turned to walk away and looked back at him. “It’s good to have you back, Noah. The kids are over the moon.”

“And Aiden?”

She smiled, looking off to a cruiser that rolled in. “He’s fine with it.”

“So have you set a date for the big day?”

“No.”

“A long engagement?”

“Haven’t decided.”

“Not getting cold feet, are you?”

“As if I would tell you. See you around, Noah.” She lifted a finger. “Oh, by the way. Ethan was hoping he might see Axel at some point. You think you could arrange a get-together?”

“I’ll speak with Kerri.”

“He keeps talking about getting a dog but I’ve told him it may not work for our lifestyle, besides, there’s the cost of food, the ongoing vet bills for checkups and then you’ve got to get them chipped and…”

“You’re a genius.” Noah wagged his finger at her.

“What?”

He waved her off. “Nothing. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Noah hurried back into the station to arrange to get a key to Thomas’ home in Saranac or have him go with them to collect the three dogs.

“Everything okay?” Callie asked. He brought her up to speed on what he’d learned from Thomas and the conversation with Lena.

Thirty minutes later, they pulled up to an old, weathered, single-wide mobile home just off Margaret Street in Saranac. Paint was peeling off the sides and the roof was sagging in the middle. Surrounding the yard was a chain-link fence. From the moment they approached, Noah could hear dogs barking.

Eager to expedite his release from jail, Thomas was more than willing to take them there so they could collect the animals.

He inserted a key and the door creaked open, revealing a small, dimly lit interior.

A Yorkshire terrier jumped up at Thomas.

Not far behind were a bulldog and the golden retriever he’d mentioned.

Once removed, the dogs would be checked for signs of neglect or mistreatment, to make sure they were healthy and well-fed. At a glance they appeared to be in good condition.

“What do you call him?” Noah asked, eyeing the retriever and petting him. The dog responded by licking his hand.

“I haven’t given him a name yet. Didn’t want to if I was going to take him to the shelter.

” Thomas kept emphasizing that, as if he wanted to ingrain in their psyche that his motivation was purely to help.

Unfortunately, because of his ties to the dog and his confession, they would have to keep him a while longer to ensure he wasn’t involved in the disappearance of the woman.

Out of sight but clearly heard, his mother called out. “Thomas?”

“It’s me, Mom.”

“Who’s with you?”

“Just some friends,” he said, his voice wavering. He lowered his voice to speak with Noah. “Can I see her before I go back?”

He nodded and walked with him through the cramped single-wide home.

One of the things that struck Noah was the musty, damp smell mixed with stale air.

The space was small, cluttered, with barely enough room to move around.

The tiny kitchenette had a small sink, stove and refrigerator crammed against one another.

The cabinets were stained and chipped, and the countertop cluttered with food containers and takeout boxes.

The odor of stale food lingered, giving the impression that sanitation wasn’t a strong point and that it hadn’t been cleaned in a while.

The sink had a few unwashed dishes, the trash looked as if it needed to be emptied.

The light above them cast long shadows across the worn linoleum flooring, past a faded couch covered with a threadbare blanket and lumpy, worn cushions.

Noah navigated his way past a rickety coffee table that took up most of the space.

He eyed a few framed pictures on the walls, old and faded; one had fallen off a hook and was on the floor.

They continued past a small bathroom, with a tiny sink, a toilet and a shower stall that would allow for one person only.

The tiles were cracked and stained and there was the faint smell of mildew in the air.

Not the best environment for someone that was ill but times were hard for many, and government didn’t offer much in the way of health care for those without good insurance.

Further down, they passed a smaller bedroom and another cramped bathroom before arriving at his mother’s room which was just big enough to fit a twin-sized bed and a small dresser.

The walls sported old ’80s style floral wallpaper.

The air was stuffy. The bed was covered in worn, mismatched sheets and surrounded by medical equipment and supplies.

There was an IV pole to one side, with a big bag of clear liquid hanging from it.

Various tubes snaked away to the arms and nose of the woman.

She was frail, her eyes open. Her skin was pale and translucent, making her look almost ethereal.

She reached out a gnarled hand.

“Hey Mom,” Thomas said.

Noah gave him a moment. He couldn’t help but feel pity.

His mother was only one of thousands of parents and elderly people throughout the country who suffered in silence and would often slip away without anyone noticing.

It made him think of his own father, and the fears he had surrounding him losing his memory.

Who would take care of him? At least they were in a better position financially to bring in a caregiver, but someone like Thomas?

He sighed.

Once they collected the dogs and Noah placed Thomas in the back of the cruiser, Callie closed the door and turned.

“Now what?”

“We’ll have a vet check the chip in the dog and perhaps that will give us the name of the victim and her address.”

“You really think it’s hers?”

“Only one way to find out.”