Authors: Terri Blackstock
But then there would be other parents who had to come and identify their child’s remains. Other broken hearts. Other lives destroyed.
But he was here, with
these
people, who braced themselves for a nightmare—and with all his heart, he hoped their daughter was still alive.
C
ade hated the morgue. He always had, though coming here was often part of his job. He’d been present at more autopsies than he wanted to remember, and stood at too many people’s sides as they identified their loved ones. He’d even had to come here when his own mother was killed in a car accident when he was eighteen. His father was out of town, and there’d been no one else to identify the body.
He’d been in denial as he and Jonathan strode down the long, dark, cold hall next to the clerk who called him “Hon.” Even now, so many years later, he remembered how badly he’d wanted to tell her she didn’t have to be so nice to him, because it probably wasn’t his mother, just some other woman in a white LeSabre … who just happened to have his mother’s ID.
Jonathan had been at his side, and when they showed him the woman’s body, Cade stared for a moment. It
looked
like his mother. The same curve to her lips, the same laugh lines etched next to her eyes, the same silver streak that highlighted her black hair. But the vacancy in her eyes, her features, made her seem like someone else. He clung to that hope, his eyes searching her for clues that it wasn’t her after all …
Then next to him, he heard his best friend’s soft, broken sob. “Aw, no … it’s her, man. I’m so sorry.”
Cade hadn’t shed a tear. Not then. He just stood there, staring at her and trying to make his mind grasp the truth.
Shaking off the memories, Cade looked at the couple walking next to him—hand in hand—down that same hall he’d followed all those years ago. Their faces were ashen and stark, controlled terror shadowed their features.
Were they believers? Would they be able to lean on the only One who could comfort them? Or would they lash out at God, blaming Him for the death of the child they must have considered such a perfect gift?
They reached the room with all its drawers, each containing bodies from Savannah or Wilmington or Tybee or Cape Refuge or any of the other towns that made up Chatham County. The girl’s drawer was 316. The clerk led them to it and pulled it open.
The body was covered with a sheet. Lana wobbled, and Bob held her up.
The clerk peeled back the sheet, revealing the girl Cade found in the cave. He searched her face for the mole …
Lana caught her breath and put her hand over her mouth, and long, crushing moans came out of her throat as she wilted against her husband.
“It’s not her!” Bob’s voice was raw, hoarse. “It’s not Amelia.”
Cade almost didn’t believe them. Was it denial, the same kind he’d had? Or was it truth?
Lana turned back to the body. “It’s her friend, Jamie. Oh, dear God, if she’s dead, where is Amelia?”
So they weren’t in denial. They had given the girl a name. “Tell me Jamie’s last name again?”
“Maddox. Oh, her poor parents! We have to call them, Bob.”
Bob wasn’t thinking about calling the girl’s parents. “Amelia could still be alive, Chief Cade. She’s somewhere around here. You have to find her. You
have
to. Please, I’m begging you.”
Cade nodded to the clerk, who covered the girl back up. “I’ll do everything in my power. You have my word on that.”
I
t was getting dark as Cade took the couple back to the Tybee police station, where they agreed to wait until the GBI agents came to question them about their daughter. Meanwhile, Cade needed to break the news to Sheila and see what she knew.
Grant walked him out to his car. “Are you sure you’ve never seen that girl before?”
Was Grant doubting his story? “No. We’ve already been over this. I’d never laid eyes on her. Look, Grant, I know it looks bad, with my having been at the cave and all. If I were investigating this crime, I’d probably consider myself the prime suspect. But this was as much a surprise to me as it was to anybody.”
Grant sighed. “You let me know if the Caruso woman sheds any light on things. And find out if she has an alibi.”
“I will.” Cade started to get into his car, but Grant kept him from closing the door. Leaning in, he said, “Cade,
is there anybody you can think of who would want to set you up? Any enemies? Somebody you might have sent to prison?”
“There are always enemies. It’s an occupational hazard. But your guess is as good as mine.”
He drove across the bridge back to Cape Refuge, his mind racing through all the people he’d helped convict over the years. Which one would want revenge enough to kill for it? And if murder wasn’t too high a price, wouldn’t they have killed
him
instead of an innocent girl?
If Gibson was the killer, then who had he gotten to move the body? For the right price, he probably could have hired any stranger on the docks. Or someone he already had on his payroll.
Sheila Caruso’s connection to one of the dead girls was disturbing, in light of her connection to Gibson. Did she know more than she was telling?
For the life of Amelia Roarke, he had to find out.
He called Joe McCormick as he rounded Ocean Boulevard. “Hey, Joe. I need you to meet me over at Hanover House to talk to Sheila Caruso.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there. Something wrong?”
He told him about Amelia Roarke and her connection to Sheila.
“You don’t think Sheila was involved in the murders, do you?” Joe asked. “Because I just don’t see it in her.”
“I don’t know. But I want you there to help me judge whether she’s telling the truth.”
McCormick paused for several seconds longer than necessary. “Okay, Cade. I’ll see you there.”
J
onathan was on the front porch changing a light bulb when Cade pulled into the driveway. Cade got out of his car.
Jonathan peered down at him. “You okay, buddy? Blair told us what happened.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Jonathan, I’m here on police business.”
“Yeah?” His friend came down the steps. “Is it about the girl you found today? Do you know who she is yet?”
“Yeah, her name’s Jamie Maddox. She’s from Brunswick.”
McCormick’s car pulled into the driveway, his headlight illuminating the front of the house. Jonathan’s frown went deeper. “Wow. You brought your detective. What’s going on, buddy?”
“It’s a long story. I need to talk to Sheila right now. Is she still up?”
“I think so. She’s not in some kind of trouble, is she?”
Cade evaded. “We just need to ask her a few questions.”
Jonathan wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his arm and set his hands on his hips. “Come on, man. If Sheila’s done something, I need to know.”
“You will,” Cade said. “Just let us talk to her first.”
Jonathan led them into the house. Morgan came out of the kitchen. “Cade, Joe, I didn’t expect to see you. Blair told me what happened. How horrible.”
“Yeah, it was a surprise, that’s for sure.”
Jonathan went halfway up the staircase. “Sheila! Can you come here, please?”
After a moment, Sheila came to the stairs and started down. She caught sight of Cade and McCormick and brought her hand to her hair. “Hey, guys.”
“Sheila, Cade and Joe need to talk to you,” Jonathan said.
“Sure. About Marcus Gibson?”
“Not exactly,” Cade said. “Can we step into the parlor and talk?”
“Okay.” She looked back at Morgan and Jonathan. “Can they come too?”
Cade looked back at his friends. “It’s okay, if you don’t mind.”
Morgan gave Jonathan a concerned look, and they followed her in. It was one thing to give a resident privacy when she needed it, but another when there were police involved. If Sheila was somehow involved in this crime, the directors of Hanover House needed to know.
They all sat down, and McCormick set his serious eyes on Sheila.
She looked from him to Cade. “Okay, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
Cade started. “Sheila, I just came from meeting a couple who thought that the girl I found today was their daughter. It turned out not to be. It was her best friend, who was traveling with her. Their daughter is still missing.”
“Uh-huh.”
McCormick took it from there. “Their daughter was headed to Cape Refuge. To search for her birth mother.”
Sheila seemed to wait for more.
“She’s nineteen,” Cade said softly. “Born October 29 …”
Sheila’s face shifted, changed, and Cade saw that she understood.
“She’s …
mine
?”
Morgan frowned at Jonathan, not quite following.
“Wait a minute,” Jonathan said. “Is
Sheila
this girl’s birth mother?”
Cade nodded, and Sheila sprang up. “My
daughter
?”
“Amelia Roarke,” Cade said.
Sheila started to cry. “Amelia,” she whispered. “What a sweet name. She came looking for
me
?”
Morgan stood up with her. “Sheila, I didn’t know …”
Sheila wiped her eyes, then rubbed her hands against her jeans. “I had a baby when I was fifteen. I gave her up for adoption. It almost killed me. A few months later, when I got pregnant with Sadie, I made up my mind to keep her. I couldn’t let go of another one.”
Cade pulled the girl’s picture out of his pocket and handed it to Sheila. Morgan looked at it with her. “She’s beautiful,” Sheila whispered.
Morgan agreed. “She looks like Sadie.”
Sheila looked up at Morgan. “I never told Sadie. I guess I need to now.” She held the picture to her chest and turned back to Cade. “Where is Amelia?”
“No one knows.”
“And her best friend … the one she came here with … she’s
dead
? What … what in the world …?”
“Sheila, we need to know if Amelia has contacted you.”
“No, she hasn’t. How long has she been here?”
“She went missing three days ago.” Cade leaned forward. “Sheila, I need you to think. If she came here looking for you, she would have meant to contact you. Maybe she didn’t identify herself. Is there a time over the last couple of days that you might have seen her?”
“No! I would tell you if I had. I’ve wondered about her all these years … wished I knew where she was so I could just get a look at her …”
Cade leaned his elbows on his knees and locked his eyes on Sheila’s. “I have to ask you this, and I need you to answer me very thoughtfully and carefully. What were you doing yesterday, from the time you got up until the time you went to bed?”
Sheila’s face went pale. “You don’t think I—”
Morgan broke in. “Cade, she was here all day, taking care of Caleb. I don’t think she went anywhere.”
“I didn’t,” Sheila said. “It was my day to work in the garden. I planted begonias in the backyard and came in off and on to help with housework.”
“What about Thursday?”
Sheila shrugged. “I went to work at Marcus Gibson’s, then came and talked to you at the station. After that I didn’t leave the house.”
Morgan’s nod confirmed it.
Cade looked at McCormick and noted the “I told you so” in his eyes. He didn’t have to question Morgan’s word … but he had to consider the possibility that Sheila might have left after Morgan went to bed. It seemed implausible, however, that she would have sneaked out, met up with the girls, killed Jamie Maddox, then arranged to have her body moved to the cave.
Maybe her alibi was genuine.
Sheila looked at him, eyes wide. “You’ve got to find her, Cade. Please, she has to be all right.”
“Everything’s being done to find her,” he said. “But we wanted to let you know in case she comes here. Her parents are frantic. Please, if you do hear from her, let us know immediately.”
“Of course.”
“Her parents are staying at the Frankfurt Inn, if you’d like to get in touch with them. Their names are Bob and Lana Roarke. They’d like to talk to you.”
Sheila nodded. “I want to talk to them too. I’ll call them as soon as I tell Sadie.”
Cade and Joe got up and started for the door. Cade turned back before going out. “By the way, Sheila, have you still got a key to Marcus Gibson’s house?”
“No, I’ve never had it. I just know where he keeps it. He puts it under the doormat for me. I don’t know if he keeps it there all the time, though.”
“Have you been back there since you told us about his books?”
“No, I was afraid to.”
“Have you spoken to him at all?”
“Of course not. Why would I do that?”
Cade didn’t answer but searched Sheila’s face for any sign of deceit.
“You work for him, so I just thought he might have called you.”
“No, he hasn’t. If he did, I’d hang up. I’m scared of him.”
“Rightfully so,” McCormick said.
Satisfied that he’d gotten all Sheila would give him, Cade thanked her and promised to keep her updated.
Jonathan followed them out to their cars. “Cade, do you think the girl is alive?”
“I sure hope so. The state police are working hard to find her, and I’m doing what I can to help.”
“What did you think about Sheila’s reaction? She looked surprised, right?”
“Did to me,” McCormick said.
Cade reserved judgment.
“So you don’t think she had anything to do with it?” Jonathan asked.
The worry was clear on Jonathan’s face. The past year had built his trust for Sheila, but he never
fully
trusted his residents. Drug addiction was a deadly master, and it always had the potential to lure them back. People whose minds were set on drugs would do almost anything for a fix.
“If her alibi is real, I don’t see how she could have done it,” Cade said.
McCormick looked as relieved as Jonathan. “My thinking too. And it wouldn’t make sense for her to do anything to those girls. What would she have to gain?”
Jonathan shook his head. “No, I think we can trust her on this.”
As McCormick got into his car and drove away, Jonathan looked into Cade’s face.
“Hey, man. I’m sorry about your proposal not working out.”