“Sure.”
“Shall we sit?” She gestured toward the kitchen table and chairs.
“I need to stand.”
“All right.” She adopted a relaxed stance, leaning a hip against the cabinet facing him. “What do you know about Sophie’s activities starting with yesterday? Tell me everything you can.”
He forced his sluggish mind clear back to the day before. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Looking at Mrs. Gibbs for reinforcement, he began to outline what he could remember about the day. “We had breakfast as usual, then she went off to school.”
“Did she ride the bus?”
“Yes.”
“And the bus picks her up at the end of the lane, where it also drops her off?”
“Yes.”
“Do you take her to the bus stop or does she walk?”
“She walks with her sister almost every morning. But I drove them both to the bus stop this morning, because they wanted to see the chicks at the clinic before they left.”
“So it’s routine for her to walk to and from the bus stop every day?”
Cole could see what she was getting at. “It’s almost always routine for them to walk in the mornings, unless it’s too cold or wet. But in the afternoons, I usually try to meet the bus.”
“So it was unusual for you to miss meeting the bus today?”
Cole searched for judgment in her eyes, but all he saw there was a keen interest in obtaining information. “Yes. I’ve been meeting the bus almost every day for the last four or five months.”
“But not every day. It’s intermittent?”
“It’s more likely that I’m there when the girls get home than not, if you’re wanting to know our routine.”
“I am. You said ‘when the girls get home.’ Is it typical that both girls come home on the bus together?”
“Yes, until lately. Angela has been staying at school to work on the yearbook. Do you think someone was waiting out there and planning to take Sophie?”
“That’s what I’m trying to determine. If you’re almost always there or she’s almost always with her sister, a planned kidnapping seems unlikely. It makes more sense that it was an abduction of opportunity.”
Her words touched him with an icy chill, and he suppressed a shudder.
“Getting back to yesterday,” LoSasso said, “did you meet the bus yesterday afternoon?”
He looked at Mrs. Gibbs as he searched for the answer, and she nodded.
“Yes,” he said. “I had to think for a moment, but I remember now.”
“Any field trips or anything different about school yesterday?”
“No, none that I’m aware of.”
“Okay, so you met the bus and then you drove her home?”
“Yes. After she ate a snack, I drove her to the feed store to buy baby chicks for her birthday.”
LoSasso narrowed her eyes and glanced at the sheriff. “Who was at the store?”
“There were a few customers. There was a lady I didn’t know and a young boy who left as we came in. I think the boy had been looking at the chicks. Moses Randall might be able to tell you who they are.”
“So Mr. Randall was there also. Anyone else?”
Cole searched his memory. “Just one of his employees.”
“Mrs. Banks?”
“No, a kid that helps him. Maybe twenty-something. I don’t know his name.”
“Did anyone seem to be watching Sophie or interacting with her in a way that caught your attention?”
Again, Cole tried to recall if anything had set off alarm bells, but he came up short. “No. Both Moses and his helper talked to Sophie, but it was just about the chickens and what we needed to buy.”
“Then you came home? Any other stops?”
“We went directly to the clinic to get the chicks settled in.”
“And where did Sophie go from there?”
Cole thought about it, and a concern began to gnaw at him. “She stayed at the clinic actually. There was one client she interacted with who seemed taken with a story she was telling him.”
“Tell me about that.”
He remembered Gus Tilley sitting cross-legged on the floor, hanging onto each of Sophie’s words as she spun her tale. Although yesterday he’d thought nothing of it, the memory of his client’s infatuation, coupled with Tess’s statement that the man was acting odder than usual, caused a tremor to pass through him. Trying to stay calm, he began to relay the information to the detective in an objective manner, as much as was possible, wanting her to draw her own conclusions.
He’d never want to accuse an innocent man of anything. But his baby was missing, it was dark outside, and he’d never gone to bed before without knowing exactly where his children were and what they were doing.
“The client’s name is Gus Tilley,” he said. “I think we should go talk to him. He lives in the mountains west of town, and I can show you the way.”
The detective’s cell phone rang. She looked at her caller ID and answered it, listening for a moment, while Cole felt an urgency to get going.
“Please stay where you are and keep him there with you,” she said. “I need to talk with him.” She listened again before speaking. “That’s your right if you want to, but I’ll be there within twenty minutes.”
After disconnecting the call, she turned to Cole. “This is a priority lead on Sophie that I need to follow. Get me Tilley’s address, and we’ll follow up there if nothing turns up on this one.”
“Where are you going?”
“I can’t say, Dr. Walker. But I promise that if we find Sophie, you’ll be the first to know.”
Cole felt like he was being left at the gate.
Chapter 18
It was dusk as Mattie and Stella drove through the wide wrought-iron arch that marked the entryway to the Waverly Ranch. As they pulled up to the ranch house, attorney Justin McClelland stepped out onto the well-lit porch, followed by Jack Waverly. Brooks was nowhere in sight.
“Waverly said he was going to call his attorney,” Stella muttered. “Looks like he’s as good as his word.”
A frown punctuating his unibrow, McClelland met them as they exited the Explorer and moved to stand under the yard light. “Are you harassing this family, Detective?”
“No harassment, Counselor. I need to talk with Brooks is all.”
“You got away with that lineup without me. I want you to know right now for the record that you’re not to speak with Brooks again without me present.”
“That’s his right if that’s what he and his parents want. Mr. Waverly was present at the lineup.” Stella looked at Jack, and he stared back at her, his mouth set in a grim line and his hands in his pockets.
Using the too-sweet version of her smile, Stella looked back at McClelland. “Now that we have that settled, let me talk to Brooks.”
Jack turned on his heel and retreated to the house. They waited in silence until he came back, this time accompanied by his son, his typically handsome face spoiled by a sullen expression.
Stella didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Where were you this afternoon at three o’clock, Brooks?”
The kid threw a look at McClelland, who nodded at him. “I was on my way to Hightower on an errand for my dad.”
“And you didn’t get home until a half hour ago?”
“It took a while to find everything.”
“Do you have a receipt?”
Brooks shrugged. “I think so. It’s probably in the car with the supplies.”
“I’d like to see it.”
Brooks turned toward the silver 4Runner parked at the edge of the yard but hesitated when McClelland spoke.
“Wait, Brooks. What’s your reason for seeing the receipt, Detective?”