More Than It Seems Page 11

  A part of him was hoping that there was. While there was nothing indicating that Steve had been involved in Jensen’s death, there was something nagging at Sam in the back of his mind. Steve would have just as much motive as Givens, and Steve had investigative experience that might have let him track a man down. As much as he didn’t want to believe his friend could be a killer, that nagging doubt was there.

  He walked into the makeshift conference room to find everyone sitting there waiting for him. “We get anything back on the DNA results from the remains in Jensen’s basement?”

  Darren looked up at him. “Just couple of minutes ago, actually,” he said. “They said they couldn’t get a positive ID, but there are certain markers that preclude any possibility that it was Scott Beck. They are most likely the remains of Ronnie Lindell. He was the last boy to disappear around that time, and he was never found, either.”

  “Does Steve know that yet?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah,” Darren said. “I called him, Sam. I had to, I think you can understand that. He needed to know. He, um… Sam, he started crying, but I think it was just out of relief.”

  “Yeah, I can imagine.” He turned to Jade and Summer. “I want you two to go see if you can find Kenny Givens and bring him in. Do whatever you have to do, but I want him in the interrogation room as soon as possible.”

  The girls looked at each other, then got up without another word and left the room. Sam turned to Walter.

  “Walter,” he said, “how do you think Steve is doing?”

  “Steve is scared,” Walter said. “I think he’s scared to find out that his son might still be alive.”

  Or maybe he’s afraid that he killed a man over something he didn’t do, Sam thought. Aloud, he said, “You think that’s all it is?”

  Walter wouldn’t meet his gaze and didn’t respond. That was enough to tell Sam that Walter was having some suspicions of his own.

  “Walter, tell me what you think is going on.” The insistence in Sam’s voice was unmistakable.

  “Steve loved his son, and his son was gone,” Walter said. “Steve knew Pastor Jensen.”

  Darren, Denny and Eric were all staring at Walter.

  “Walter, do you think Steve might have killed him?” Sam asked.

  “Steve had motive. Steve could have suspected him and found him. If Pastor Jensen admitted he took Scott, Steve would have gotten very angry.”

  “Angry enough to kill him?” Darren asked.

  “Steve could have gotten angry enough to kill him,” Walter said, and then he got up and walked out of the room.

  “He’s taking this pretty hard, Sam,” Denny said. “Steve is his best mate, you know.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Sam said. He wondered if Walter would be able to continue doing his job if it turned out Steve was a murderer. Steve was the only one who could bring Walter out of his occasional meltdowns.

  “Sam?” Eric asked tentatively. “What happens if it turns out Steve is the killer?”

  Sam grimaced, but turned to face the kid. “We don’t discriminate,” he said. “Murder is murder, no matter who does it.”

  * * *

  Fiona was sitting at her computer when the knock came on her door. She decided to ignore it, but then it came again more insistently a moment later. She rolled her eyes and let out a sigh, then hit a button on the keyboard that disguised what she was doing as a video game before she got up out of her seat.

  “Yeah?” she asked as she opened the door.

  Steve held up his ID. “My name is Steve Beck, and I’m with Windlass Security. I’m looking for Kenny Givens.”

  “Well, you just missed him,” she said. “He left about fifteen minutes ago.”

  Steve put his ID away. “Any idea where he was going? It’s very important that I talk to him.”

  “Sorry, man, not a clue. Kenny comes and goes as he pleases, I don’t have any hold on him.”

  “Then I don’t suppose you have any idea when he might be back?” Steve looked hopeful, but not very confident.

  Fiona chuckled. “I can tell you exactly when he’ll be back,” she said. “He’ll be back when he gets horny again. Everybody thinks I’m his girlfriend, but we’re just FWB.”

  Steve’s eyebrows rose. “FWB?”

  She leaned her elbow on the doorframe and struck a pose, then gave him a wicked grin. “Friends with benefits,” she said. “I’ll leave it to your imagination what kind of benefits we get from each other.”

  “I’m not that old,” Steve said. “I know what it is. Like you said, though, we were under the impression that you two were a lot closer than that.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s what you get for paying attention to impressions. Anyway, sorry, but I don’t have any idea where you can find him or when. Anything else?”

  “No…” He began, but then he cocked his head to the side and hesitated. “Actually, would you happen to have a photo of Kenny?”

  She looked at him for a moment, then stepped back and swung the door open so he could enter. He followed her into the living room and watched as she picked up a picture frame. It showed her with a man, and Steve only needed a glance to know that he was looking at a picture of his son.

  He blinked a couple of times and then handed it back. “Thank you,” he said. He turned and walked out the door without another word, then stopped just outside when she came to close it. He turned and looked at her once again. “Do you happen to know what kind of car he drives?”

  She looked at him for a moment, as if considering whether she was going to answer. “He’s got an old car,” she said. “1967 Pontiac GTO, it’s pretty wicked. Candy apple red, chrome wheels, he’s probably spent more on that than most people spend buying a new Cadillac.”

  Steve suppressed a grin. He had a ’67 GTO sitting in his garage at home, one he had bought years earlier and was slowly trying to rebuild.

  “That sounds about right,” he said. “Thanks for your time.” He turned and walked down the hall, and Fiona stared after him for a moment. Something about the old guy seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.

  * * *

  “Sam could’ve given us some kind of hint about where to find this guy,” Jade groused. “Any ideas?”

  Summer kept her eyes on the road as she shrugged. “We’re looking for a guy who doesn’t think much of rules, who makes his living by basically breaking the law, even if he thinks he’s doing something good. You’re looking for a guy like that, the best place to start is local bars.”

  Jade rolled her eyes. “Great,” she said. “It’s getting close to lunchtime, so they’ll probably be busy. I’m lucky I’m with you; the thought of being hit on by a bunch of drunks about now makes me gag, but they’ll all be after you, so I won’t have to put up with it.”

  Summer grinned. “As long as they tell me what I want, they can hit on me all they like. Doesn’t mean they’re going to get anywhere.”

  Jade giggled. “Just don’t let them figure that out too soon, or they won’t tell you anything.”

  Jade pulled up all the local bars on her GPS, and they began making their rounds. It was the fourth one they went into where they struck pay dirt. The bartender knew Kenny, and he was too busy grinning at the thought of these two beauties trying to find him to wonder about why, or who they were. Neither of them bothered to flash ID, preferring to let him think whatever he wanted. It didn’t take a lot of thought to realize he was thinking of a Kenny sandwich, with the two of them as the bread.

  “If you want to find Kenny this time of day,” he said, “your best bet would be the library.”

  Summer blinked. “The library? Seriously?”

  The bartender nodded, still grinning. “Yeah,” he said. “Don’t let on you got this from me, okay? Kenny is trying to write a book, and he says the library gives him the right kind of atmosphere. He’s tried writing other places and said he never gets more than a few sentences down. At the library, he can crank out several thousand w
ords a day.”

  “Really? Any idea what he’s writing about?” Summer asked.

  “Don’t you know who Kenny is? He’s writing his life story, about how he got kidnapped when he was a little kid. I don’t know the whole story, but I gather it was pretty rough.”

  “Okay, thanks,” she said. “We really appreciate it.”

  The bartender burst into a laugh. “I’ll bet he’s going to appreciate it more,” he said, leering at them.

  The girls looked at him for a moment, then turned and walked out of the bar. They got back into their car and Jade located the library on her GPS.

  “Take a left at the next light,” Jade said. “The library’s about eight blocks down, on the right. You really think we might find him there?”

  “I guess it’s possible,” Summer said. “Lots of people like to write.”

  They made their way through the city and pulled into the library parking lot. Summer was about to park the car when Jade pointed across the lot.

  “That’s a GTO,” she said. “When I ran Kenny’s name, it said he had a GTO like that. Looks like we might’ve hit pay dirt.”

  Summer grinned and parked the car, and the two of them got out and headed inside the library. It only took them a couple of minutes to spot Kenny, sitting at a table by himself with a laptop. They walked toward him quietly, and he didn’t even notice until they were standing just beside the table.

  He looked up and broke into a curious smile. “Something I can do for you girls?”

  Both of them held out their IDs.

  “Kenny, I’m Summer Raines with Windlass Security. You met my boss, Sam Prichard, yesterday. He’d like to talk to you again, and asked if we might bring you down to the police station.”

  Kenny’s eyes narrowed and the smile vanished. “Police station? What’s this all about?”

  “Well, I can tell you that you’re not in any trouble,” Summer said. “He really does just want to talk to you, but it could be very important to our investigation. Would you mind to come with us?”

  Kenny looked at her for a moment, then turned his eyes to Jade. “Nobody’s going to try to arrest me?”

  Jade shot him a smile. “It’s like she said,” she said. “Sam just wants to talk to you. There’s a pretty good chance that you might be able to help us solve this cold case.”

  “But I don’t really remember anything. I told him that yesterday.”

  Summer pointed at the laptop in front of him. “From what I hear, you’re writing about it even now. Maybe you remember more than you think you do.”

  Kenny looked at them for another few seconds, then let out a sigh. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll come with you. Give me a minute to get all my stuff together.” He shoved his computer into a backpack, then picked up a stack of papers that he had apparently scribbled notes on and stuffed them inside with it. He zipped it closed, slung it over his shoulder and got to his feet. “My car’s in the parking lot,” he said. “Is it okay if I just follow you?”

  Jade started to say that would be fine, but Summer cut her off. “We’ll take you,” she said. “No offense, but I don’t want to be told no at the last second and take off. I saw your car in the parking lot and I don’t think I want to try to catch it if you decide to run.”

  Kenny grinned. “Hey, it was worth a shot. Last time I went to the police station, it wasn’t just to visit and talk. Can you believe they actually thought I was hacking ATMs around town?”

  “You? Never,” Summer said. She grinned and the three of them made their way to the exit.

  “So, you guys are some kind of cop?” Kenny asked.

  “Private investigators,” Jade said. “We work for Windlass, and the company was asked to help out on this old case.”

  “Yeah, I read about it in the paper. Your boss seems to think that preacher that was killed way back then might be the guy who kidnapped me. I don’t know how you expect me to help, though. I certainly don’t remember anything that might be useful today.”

  “Again,” Summer said, “it’s amazing how often people remember things they don’t even know they remember. Sometimes when we start asking questions, little details come to the surface that they haven’t thought about in many, many years. I think Sam might be hoping for that today.”

  Jade opened the back door of the SUV for Kenny and he climbed inside.

  “At least they give you nice wheels,” he said.

  “It’s one of the perks of the job,” Summer said. “Buckle your seatbelt, I wouldn’t want to spill you in the floorboard.”

  She started the car and backed out of the parking lot, then headed out onto the street and toward the station.

  FIFTEEN

  Sam and Franklin walked into the interrogation room together, sitting down across the table from Givens.

  “Mr. Givens,” Sam began, “I want to talk to you about Martin Jensen. He said he came to counsel you and your wife after Kenny’s disappearance. Can you tell us more about that?”

  Givens was looking down at the table, but then he raised his eyes up to meet Sam’s. “I already told you,” he said. “He just came to talk to us a few times. I didn’t really get involved with him very much, but my wife did. Brenda, she really needed—she needed hope, I guess. He kept telling her that he was praying for Kenny to come back, and I guess that was what she needed to hear.”

  “But you did speak with him at times?”

  Givens shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I did. I just didn’t have a lot of confidence in prayers to do any good. That was more down Brenda’s line, she was the one who always liked going to church.”

  Sam raised an eyebrow. “Was she a member of Jensen’s church?”

  “No, she wasn’t a member anywhere. She just liked to go sometimes. I think she went to his church a few times, especially after Kenny was gone. Yeah, I know she did, because she told me about one time when they asked her to come down front, and the whole church started praying for Kenny to come home.”

  Sam nodded. “And there was never any time when you wondered if Jensen might have been involved?” Sam hit him with the question quickly, hoping the sudden redirection would throw him off guard.

  Givens didn’t react. He simply shook his head as he had done before. “I don’t think so,” he said. “You know, Kenny just disappeared out of his room in the middle of night. There weren’t any kind of clues or anything, nobody had any idea who could have done it. The cops didn’t know, I certainly didn’t know; nobody even had a guess. I know they talked to everybody around here who had any kind of a record, but they said everyone had an alibi. One cop told me that other kids had been taken from other towns around the area, and they thought maybe it was the same guy, but nobody had any idea who he was or where to look.”

  Sam decided to try another tack. “What about the detective who mentioned Jensen? Did you remember who it was?”

  Givens’ face suddenly took on a guarded look, and Sam caught it when his eyes flicked up to Franklin for a split second before settling on the table again. “No,” he said. “That was so long ago, I… What would it matter, anyway? Obviously they never connected him to it, right?”

  “But for a detective to ask about Jensen, something must’ve pointed him in that direction. I’d love to know what it was. I notice you looked at Detective Franklin just then; why was that?”

  Givens looked up at him. “I don’t know,” he said. “He’s a detective, I guess maybe I was trying to see if it might’ve been him.”

  “I was just a patrol officer back then,” Franklin said. “I didn’t become a detective for another four years.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Givens said. “You were at the station when I brought Kenny in that day. I remember you.”

  “When was it the detective asked you about Jensen? Was it before Kenny was found, or after?”

  “Um, after, I think. Yeah, Kenny was home already. You know, now that I think about it, it might have been after the preacher got killed. I think maybe that’s when they
were asking questions like that.”

  Sam looked over at Franklin. “Do you know anything about that?” he asked. “Was Jensen’s death connected to the missing boys, somehow?”

  Franklin’s eyes went wide. “Not that I recall,” he said. “As far as I knew, we were all convinced the preacher was some kind of saint who never did anything wrong. I mean, yeah, there were a few rumors about him and some of the ladies, but we never found any real evidence of it. Could have been just jealous women making it up, wishing he would come on to them, you know?”

  “Yeah,” Sam said. “I’ve heard of things like that before. Still, if one of the detectives around here was asking about whether Jensen might have been connected to Kenny’s disappearance, there had to have been something.”

  “Well, it’s like I told you before,” Franklin said. “There were rumors that he had some kind of dark secret, but nobody seemed to know what it was.” He shrugged. “I suppose it’s possible that one of the detectives looking into his murder might have been thinking about those rumors, and wondered if maybe there was a connection to the kidnappings. Wouldn’t be completely unreasonable to at least explore the possibility, but I’m pretty sure they never came up with any kind of evidence to go along with it.”

  Sam nodded and turned back to Givens. “Lou, you’ve admitted that you knew the boy you found was not really your son. Why did you go to such lengths to try to keep that from coming out?”

  “It was for Brenda,” Gibbons said with a sigh. “She just—she needed him. She needed Kenny to be safe and come home, and that’s what she got. I wasn’t going to ruin that for her.”

  “Do you believe she honestly thought that was her son? That she didn’t know the difference?”

  “Oh, I think she knew. Would’ve been hard not to, because Kenny had this big birthmark, a big red spot on his back. When he came home, it was gone. There’s no way she could have convinced herself that it just fell off or something, so she had to have known, but she never said a word. Not even to me, not once.”