best,” Beth said.
“Got something cookin’?”
“I landed a murder case up in Jordan.”
“Jordan?”
“Interdepartmental request for assistance.”
“On your way up there now?”
“Yep.”
“Who’s your backup?” Pappas asked.
“Fancher’s giving me a uniform. She told me to use one of the locals,” Beth said.
“Figures,” Pappas said. “How ’bout I take a ride with you? I need to stretch my legs. The fresh air’ll do me good.”
“It might get you in trouble, Dan,” Beth said, looking toward Fancher’s office.
“Lenny Cass is still flat of his back,” Pappas said. “If he finds out I let you go solo, I’ll be in more trouble with him.”
“You sure?”
“Assisting another detective in a dangerous situation is what we do. Pincher has a problem with that, she can file a beef.”
Pappas got up and put on his jacket. The man was built like a defensive tackle, probably six foot four and close to 250 pounds. His face carried the scars of childhood acne. If he gave any thought to his clothes, it didn’t show. He always reminded her of a walking unmade bed. If they had to go into a tunnel together, she hoped it wouldn’t be too narrow for his shoulders. Though she was grateful for his offer, she couldn’t bring herself to say so, other than to thank him.
“Tell me a little about the case,” he said.
“Let’s get rolling before Fancher waylays you. I’ll bring you up to speed on the way.”
Chapter 11
T he uniform was waiting for them in the garage. Beth told him he was off the hook and free to carry on. He gave them a half salute and headed back to the elevators. During the ride, she filled Pappas in on the murder details and her meeting with Jack Kale.
“I met him during the original investigation,” Pappas said when she had finished. “Quiet and kinda intense.”
“Well, he’s a jerk,” Beth said. “I asked for his help—nicely, mind you—and he about tossed me out of his office.”
“That’s odd.”
“You should have been there. Any idea what’s the matter with him?”
Pappas shrugged. “There were some rumors floating around.”
“What sort of rumors?” Beth asked.
“The feds were especially tight-mouthed, but about a year after we caught Pell, I ran into an agent who worked the taskforce with us and asked how Kale was doing. The guy said physically fine.”
“ Physically ?”
“Yeah. It was a strange response. Anyway, we talked some more and he let on Kale had left the Bureau. That really floored me. I mean, he was their fair-haired boy, particularly with all the publicity after nailing Pell.”
“Sounds that way,” Beth said. “You ever find out why he left?”
“Sometimes you have to read between the lines.”
“Okay, give.”
“We chitchatted for a while, and I eventually asked how Kale was keeping busy in his retirement. I figured maybe he had a book deal going or something. The guy just shook his head and told me no onehad seen him for months. ‘Vacation?’ I said. ‘Nah,’ he says. He never comes out of his house. The guy turned into a recluse.”
“Maybe all the publicity got to him.”
“Maybe,” Pappas said. “But that’s not the vibe I picked up. It was like he collapsed emotionally.”
“Jeez,” Beth said.
“Yeah. Jeez.”
Chapter 12
A light rain was falling when they arrived in Jordan. The cross still stood in the middle of the field, a stark reminder of what happened there. Beth and Pappas found a couple of yellow ponchos in the trunk and put them on, then made their way through the tall grass. Sheriff Max Blaylock and Juan Avilles, the deputy who found the tunnel, were waiting for them in the barn. Beth made the introductions.
“I spoke with the families of both women,” the sheriff informed them. “Sandra Goldner and Betsy Ann Tinsley are still missing. The locket belongs to Betsy Ann. Her mother identified it as her birthday present.”
Beth asked, “Were they together when they