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CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The gray evening was darkening into a dull night as May headed out with Owen, following the hand drawn map that Mrs. Sandler had provided. It led them down a muddy track into the woods. The track wound its way through the trees, seeming to go on for miles, deeper and deeper into the forest.
She had no idea what they would find when they arrived. But she knew they needed to locate this RV community and Maurice Fardy as soon as they could.
She felt, again, that the silence between herself and Owen was filled with unspoken issues. Perhaps now, on this drive, would be a good chance to air them. But yet again, May found herself battling to know where to start.
How could she explain to him how complex and disturbing this issue with her sister's disappearance had become? And that now, there were more people involved, disappeared, presumed dead. She didn't know what all of this meant, or how big it was, or whether any answers would ever be possible.
She was feeling deeply traumatized by this. She hadn't told anyone the latest updates apart from Kerry. Not her parents. Not Sheriff Jack, and not Owen. May had started visiting her parents for Sunday night dinners, often with Owen. It had become a regular calendar date when she wasn’t busy with a case. In fact, to her surprise, May found she was looking forward to family time and her mother’s excellent cooking.
But she thought that all of them had realized the success of those dinners depended on keeping the conversation light and general. They had all made a real effort to do that. There was plenty to talk about without needing to touch on sensitive subjects. That included May flunking the FBI academy exams, and it also included any talk of Lauren’s disappearance. Hermother mentioned Lauren fondly from time to time but didn’t dwell on the sad parts.
May was grateful that she’d been able to avoid the issues that triggered painful memories, or any feelings that she wasn’t good enough. It definitely made for better harmony in those dinners.
But now, avoiding the issues was creating a tension between herself and her deputy that shouldn't have been there.
In an effort to escape her troubled thoughts, May turned her mind back to the current case, telling herself sternly that that was where she should have been focusing all along.
It was clear that they were en route to a very strong suspect.
Maurice had known both Chloe and Giselle. The community itself was not far from where Chloe had been caught on camera, and it really was out in the middle of nowhere and seemed to run by its own rules. Drug use and drug dealing was a strong likelihood. Mrs. Sandler had definitely had an instinct about Maurice, that he was an unsavory person.
She hadn't mentioned him at the time of Giselle's disappearance because they had thought the 'murder' was linked to the jewelry theft.
Hoping to break the silence with some discussion, May thought aloud, causing Owen to jump slightly as she started speaking.
"If the main reason was to take Giselle, then the jewelry could simply have been an added extra," she theorized as she wound the car carefully along the squishy, muddy track.
"Surely no criminal is going to say no to some expensive items of jewelry if they're lying around," Owen agreed, sounding relieved to be discussing this case. "It's an easy thing to sell. But I was also thinking that Maurice could have taken it deliberately, to make it seem as if the main motive was robbery. Perhaps he also made sure to leave bloodstains on the bed, for the same reason.”
"And that would lead the police in the wrong direction," May agreed.
They were silent a while. Then Owen took a deep breath.
"May, I—" he began.
From the tone of his voice, she was absolutely sure that he was going to ask her what was going on and try to find out what was happening in her life. Immediately, her defenses sprang up. She didn't feel ready for this!
And then, ahead, she saw a muted light.
"That must be it," she said eagerly. "Look. We're nearly there."
Owen let out his breath again, and she thought he looked disappointed as he stared forward, at what was undoubtedly the RV community.
Now she could see more lights emerging. And, winding down her window, May could also hear the thump and boom of music. It seemed like there was a party on tonight. Or maybe every night was a party here. Maybe this was part of what had attracted Chloe and Giselle into Maurice's circles. Perhaps it was due to his lawless, bad boy charm.
The community itself looked small, with about twelve battered looking caravans randomly dotted around a large clearing in the woods. Tents of various shapes and sizes were clustered among the trees.
May climbed out of the car, breathing in the smell of cooking fires and another smell, one she recognized. The distinctive, acrid smell of pot. She narrowed her eyes.
It seemed as if this drug, still illegal in Minnesota, was being freely used here, and May knew that said a lot. Also, it would have implications for them, because people who were using illegal drugs would shut down immediately if they knew the police were here. Guilty people, worried about being arrestedfor drug possession, would refuse to talk. That, she guessed was likely.
She walked over to the nearest caravan, which long ago must have been painted in fairy pink and blue. Now, the colors were faded, just like the looks of the woman who sat on the doorstep of her caravan, with dull skin and bleached hair grown out at the roots and straggling over her shoulders.
As she saw May and Owen approach, with a shuffle that was worthy of a stage magician, the item she'd been holding in her hand disappeared, and all that was left was the faint trace of smoke.
"What do you want?" she said, looking at them with guilty, defensive, and slightly glazed eyes.
