Chapter 9

The next call came from a detective in Huntington, W.Va. When the woman learned that Bryant was only an hour away, she decided she would prefer to meet face-to-face. Bryant offered to meet her halfway but she demurred, saying there was really nothing between the two places.

She met him at a McDonald's near his hotel. She had no trouble picking out Bryant; he looked like what she pictured a South Carolina police detective would look like. Bryant would have never guessed the woman who sat across from was a cop.

"Holly Garvin," she said, extending a hand. Bryant started to shake her hand but he realized his hand was almost twice the size of hers. He chuckled and gave her hand a gentle shake.

"Bryant Hawkins," he said. "Nice to meet you."

"Emerald Cove, South Carolina," Garvin said. She was a small woman, perhaps barely taller than five feet tall. She had red hair and freckles. She looked like a fresh-faced teenager, not a woman old enough to be a detective at a small city police department. Only a few lines around her eyes and the corners of her mouth told a person she was older than she seemed. "Don't meet many police officers from down that way."

Bryant gave a smile.

"I can say the same thing about Huntington, West Virginia," he rejoined.

"I'm intrigued with what you have on the Zimmerman case," she said. "You think it really ties in with the murder down there?"

"I'm almost positive," Bryant said. He filled the woman in on what he'd learned since Jan had spoken to her chief the night before.

The woman's pale skin went whiter as Bryant walked her through what he'd learned about the Gallia Crew.

"My God!" Garvin remarked when Bryant was finished. "There is no way these guys stayed under the radar for twenty years!"

"No," Bryant agreed. "The Mayfield boy's dad owns a half dozen car dealerships over there, and a couple over here. I'm guessing some money has changed hands. Hell, this could have started when the boys were twelve or thirteen years old."

"But why wouldn't Zimmerman tell me who attacked her?" Garvin wondered.

Bryant shrugged.

"Maybe she has a sister still in high school here," Bryant offered. "Maybe she's afraid for her family ... or she's afraid of her family."

"I'm going to take another run at her when I get back," Garvin promised. "Then I'm going to pull the Currence kid in for a little chat. Wanna sit in?"

"Would you mind?" Bryant asked.

"I wouldn't have offered if I minded," Garvin replied with a smile. "I'm not the type to say or do something just to make you feel good about yourself. I want him to know that a detective from Emerald Beach, South Carolina, is on to them. If Mayfield murdered that girl, Currence would know."

"I'm worried about the Delaney woman in Williamstown," Bryant said. "And whoever the Straight boy is lurking near, in Columbus. If we push too hard, they could be in danger. Once the first card falls, the whole house is going to come tumbling down."

"Maybe we should focus on finding the girl in Columbus first," Garvin suggested. "We can put some protection around the Delaney girl. I already have a patrol car doing routine sweeps around the Marshall campus."

"We also need to consider the woman who killed the Adams boy," Bryant said, jotting notes on a piece of paper.

"You think?" Garvin asked. Bryant looked up from his note taking and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, you're right," Garvin answered her own question. "These guys seem like the type who think they can get away with anything."

She pondered for a moment.

"Williamstown is about an hour away," she declared. "Feel like taking a ride up there with me? I'd like to talk to Meredith Delaney and the state police up there."

Bryant considered the idea for a moment. He needed to wait for Andrews and Coleman to arrive but this was more important than making sure they got settled.

"Let me make a call," Bryant said. "The chief down there sent a couple of others up here to lend a hand. We weren't sure how much cooperation we would get from the locals."

"I can't speak for anyone else but I'll help you any way I can," Garvin promised. Bryant called the number Jan had given him for the pair that were on their way north. Andrews answered on the first ring.

"Where are you?" Bryant asked brusquely. He hadn't intended for it to come out so harshly. He apologized but Andrews brushed it off.

"We're at the hotel," Andrews told him. "The desk clerk said you had left a few minutes ago to get breakfast. We wanted to get settled in and then call you."

"I want you two to coordinate things with Chief Elliot," Bryant told them. "She'll give you the number for the Ironton, Ohio, Police Department. Talk to them and get what they'll give you on an unsolved assault there. If you need to, head down that way to pick up a report if they'll let you have it."

"How about Huntington?" Andrews asked. "I checked a map and it's not that far away."

"I'm with a detective from down that way right now," Bryant explained. "We're going to head, well, somewhere. I'm not sure exactly where it is from here so I hope Detective Garvin is willing to drive. Did the chief fill you in on the boy that was killed just north of here?"

"Yes, Sir," Andrews said.

"We're going up there to talk to his intended victim," Bryant said. "If we can get her to ID the creep, it will go a long way toward solidifying a case against the rest of them."

"Do you want us to act as the point of contact for the local authorities?" Andrews wondered.

"No!" Bryant said quickly. "Something is really messy about the whole situation up here. We need to operate under the radar for as long as we can. Jan, uh, Chief Elliot has informed the state police that we're here. That's all we're going to do for now."

"Good enough, Chief," Andrews replied.

"Give me a call if you think of something else you think you should do," Bryant said before he hung up.

"Let's go," he said to Holly Garvin.

The two detectives didn't discuss the case much on the drive to Williamstown. Holly drove along a winding road that ran along the Ohio River. Bryant had crossed the Ohio River on his drive to Emerald Cove but that had been at night. During the day, the river looked expansive. He saw coal barges pushing their way up the river and rusty railroad bridges that spanned from one side to the other.

Garvin saw Bryant's gaze following the river as it wended its way, separating Ohio from West Virginia.

"Tell me about Emerald Cove," Garvin said.

Bryant chuckled.

"I don't know much about it myself," he admitted. "I've only been there since late summer."

"I didn't think I detected a Southern drawl," Garvin said with a smile. "Where you from originally?"

"South Dakota," Bryant told her.

"South Dakota?" Garvin asked. "Seems like a long way from South Dakota to South Carolina."

"It was," Bryant said.

"So you decided just to up and head down for a job?" Garvin pressed.

"Something like that," Bryant said. "I worked as a cop in Chicago for a dozen years, made it to D-2."

"Damn," Garvin said. "A gold shield in Chicago must mean something."

"No more than it means in Huntington or Emerald Cove," Bryant said. "The political crap is just on a larger scale."

Garvin nodded her agreement. Even in a small city like Huntington, with a population of about fifty thousand, the politicians were a pain in the ass.

"So you got fed up and made a break for it?" she asked.

Bryant sighed.

"I shot a man a few months back," he admitted. "He had murdered his wife and kids beforehand but he was, uh, well, he was black. That makes a difference in a city like Chicago. The local civic groups got their panties in a twist. I was given the option of retiring and moving on or staying a D-2 for the rest of my career. I saw an opening for the Chief of Detectives job down in Emerald Cove, sent a resume and that was that."

"You're the chief down there?" Garvin asked. She had gotten the impression that Bryant was just a functionary like she was.

"Chief of D's," Bryant said. "They hired my old partner as Chief of Police a few weeks ago. That's who called your department."

"Damn," Garvin said again. "You folks still hiring? I wouldn't mind a change of scenery."

"We're hiring," Bryant confirmed.

"No kidding?" Garvin asked, shifting her gaze from the road to her passenger to gauge his sincerity.

"We had a slight diversity problem," Bryant told her. "On top of that, we had a slight corruption problem. We've weeded out the worst of it but that left us short. The Chief sent up a couple of new promotions to assist me. They're good. They both were patrol officers. Hell, Coleman was one of only two women on the whole force. She's been promoted to duty sergeant. She absolutely aced the sergeant's test."

"Andrews took the detective's exam and scored pretty high. He wasn't the highest but he never had much instruction before. That's what I'm supposed to be doing, really – teaching the troops how to work a crime scene. But all I've done since I got there is put out fires and fix problems. Jan got there a few weeks ago and I turned my focus to this case. They fucked it up royally."

Bryant seemed to realize that his profanity might be offensive.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"Don't worry about it," Garvin said. "You can't grow up with four brothers and not hear the word 'fuck' now and then."

Bryant started to make a wisecrack about West Virginia and incest but stopped himself. This woman had been pleasant but she wasn't his friend.

Garvin seemed to notice his expression.

"Yeah, yeah," she said with a laugh. "Go ahead and say it. I'm lucky I only heard the word 'fuck'."

"Sorry," Bryant said again.

"Look, I'm just a normal girl from Ceredo," she said. "That's just outside of Huntington. I grew up there, went to high school at Ceredo-Kenova. Kenova is an amalgam of Kentucky, Ohio and Virginia. It was named before the Civil War. I went to college at Marshall. I lived at home the whole time. I majored in criminal justice, got hired on to a small-town force in Milton. That's a few miles on the other side of Huntington. I was there for a year and a spot opened in Huntington. I applied, got hired and worked as a blue for ten years. I took the detective exam four years ago and was promoted to Detective Second Grade last year."

"Impressive," Bryant said.

"I'm serious about maybe moving down there," Garvin said. "My folks both passed away in the last couple of years. My brothers have all moved on. They all joined the military when they got out of high school. Two of them are still in. One is in the Marines out in San Diego. The other is in the Navy at Norfolk. My oldest brother lives in Lexington, Kentucky, and my youngest headed to Texas to work on the oil rigs. The only thing keeping me in West Virginia is because I'm too lazy to look."

Bryant laughed aloud, causing Garvin to look over at him again. This time the look on her face held a question.

"I thought the exact same thing not three months ago," Bryant explained. "I remember it clearly. I decided the only thing keeping me in Chicago was inertia. I lacked the drive to get moving forward so I stayed in place. But once I got moving it was like a boulder racing down a hill."

He explained about his whirlwind interview and starting the job in Emerald Cove two weeks before he intended.

"I planned on a week's vacation," he admitted. "I haven't made it back to Chicago since I left for the interview. I had to have my neighbors pack up my house and ship my stuff down. Jan actually brought most of my clothing when she came down for the interview. My furniture and stuff I just sold rather than transport. Hell, I'm still living in a hotel room. Jan is, too."

"Not the same room, I hope," Garvin joked with a grin.

"Jan is, well, I don't really know what to say," Bryant began. "Something happened in her past. I don't know if it was in the distant past or the recent past but something happened. She absolutely hates to have anyone touch her."

"Touch her?" Garvin asked.

"I don't mean just, uh, well, you know," Bryant continued. He realized Garvin must be a great interviewer. He was talking to her about personal things and he'd known her only a couple of hours. "I mean, she doesn't even like to shake hands. She doesn't like a pat on the back. She doesn't like to brush shoulders in the supermarket. She doesn't want to be touched, not by a man, a woman or a child. She's not a cold person. I used to think she was. I mean, you know, I just thought she didn't like me. But that wasn't it. I would guess I'm probably the closest thing to a friend she has."

"Sounds like she could do worse," Garvin told him. "I mean, you sound like a standup guy. You seem to accept her quirks. I doubt many people do. You didn't let them keep you from getting to know her."

"I suppose," Bryant said.

"So, what's the job like down there?" Garvin asked.

"This time of year, it's a cakewalk," Bryant replied. "During the summer, well, from Spring Break to Labor Day, it looks like it will be rough. Right now, we're able to keep things together as short as we are. If we're still in this shape come next spring, we'll be in trouble."

"Is the town right on the beach?" Garvin asked. "I looked it up on Google before I drove up. It looks like it's a beachfront town."

"Right on the beach," Bryant answered. "That's what draws the tourists. We have about three miles of beach right on the Atlantic. There's a cool breeze off the ocean almost all the time. The people are nice. Christ, it threw me when I realized how nice the folks were down there. It won't be such a problem for you. The people here are just as nice. The information that I shared with you at breakfast came from the locals."

"Do we need to worry about them?" Garvin asked.

"No one knows who they are," Bryant said. "I didn't even let them give me their names. Only one of them knows mine and that was out of necessity. I'm not taking any chances with these guys – or with the cops who I'm pretty sure must be protecting them."

The state police sergeant greeted Bryant and Garvin warmly. He shook both of their hands and ushered them into a conference room where he had the file on the death of Trevor Adams.

"We ran him through the databases," the man said. "He was clean."

"Did you take DNA?" Bryant asked.

"Oh, hell yeah," the sergeant replied. "But it will be months before it comes back. You know how that goes."

Both police officers nodded their heads.

"If you got a second sample, I might be able to get it done quicker for you," Bryant offered. "I talked to a woman at the state crime lab in Columbia and she offered to give this case priority."

"What do you think you'll find?" he asked.

"Adams will be linked to the attack on Meredith Delaney two years ago in Gallia County, Ohio," Bryant said confidently. "The same Meredith Delaney who lives next door to the apartment where Adams was killed."

The sergeant sighed and let out a long breath.

"I'll call the M.E. to see if we can get another sample," he decided.

Bryant jotted down the address of the South Carolina State Crime Lab in Columbia and the name of his contact.

"I'll pass the findings on to you as soon as she sends it back to me," Bryant promised. "I'll call her as soon as we leave here."

"Good enough," the sergeant said. "Given the items Adams had in his possession at the time of his death, I have no doubt you're right. I figure it might come back to a few more attacks, too. Tell me about the case down there."

Bryant and Garvin filled the sergeant in on the cases of Jody Zimmerman and Mary Beth Brockleman, along with their suspicions that the Gallia Crew had help from the local authorities in Point Pleasant and Gallipolis.

"Damn it," the sergeant said. "That's going to be a mess. Do you think my detachment down there is involved?"

"I don't know," Bryant said.

"It's going to be ugly if they are," the sergeant promised.

"I'd like to talk to Meredith Delaney," Garvin said.

"So would I," Bryant added.

"So would I," the sergeant put in with a frown. "I sent a patrol over to her apartment this morning. She's gone."

Garvin looked up in alarm.

"Gone," she asked, "or taken?"