Skin Privilege

Sara looked at Jeffrey's phone, wondering what to do. Being a Luddite had once been a source of pride, but now she felt like a backward fool. She knew that Jeffrey's phone stored numbers, but wasn't sure whether or not dialing out would erase the last phone number received. If Lena had called from a traceable line, using the phone might erase it.

Cook poked his head from around the corner. 'Everything all right?'

'I left a message on his cell phone,' she lied.

'Good. Ready?'

Sara nodded. He swept his deputy's hat in the direction of the exit, indicating she should go ahead of him. Outside, she saw the ambulance parked in the bay. The paramedics who had driven Hank to the hospital were leaning against the wall, smoking. They saw Sara and gave her a friendly wave.

Cook's cruiser was parked in a handicapped space, and he walked around to open the passenger-side door for her. The seat was filled with crumpled bags of junk food and several cans of Diet Coke.

'Sorry for the mess. You mind getting in the back?'

Sara felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She was either being really paranoid or really smart. 'Do you mind if I get a ride in the ambulance?' She saw his surprised look and tried one of her more winning smiles. 'I'll just go with them.'

The ride was quickly negotiated with the paramedics. Sara had made their job a lot easier on the short trip to the hospital and the two men were more than willing to return the favor. Besides, the jail was only three minutes away. Sara felt silly as she rode between the burly paramedics, but she had learned a long time ago to listen to her instincts.

Don Cook was pulling into the parking lot as the ambulance pulled away. He scowled as Sara waved at the departing paramedics.

He got out of his car, mumbling, 'Car's not that dirty.'

Sara suppressed the urge to apologize. Instead, she followed him silently into the building.

'Sheriff's office is up there,' he told her, indicating a set of stairs. 'Unless you want someone else to tell you where it is.'

'No, thank you.' Sara took the stairs, feeling his eyes on her the whole time. She heard children talking as she climbed. In the lobby, three young faces looked up at her from their coloring books. They were on the floor, their legs splayed, faces intent, as they worked their crayons. A teenage girl was on the other side of the room. Her sullen posture indicated she was not pleased to be left in charge.

Sara looked around for their mother, but no one seemed to be in attendance. She was about to question them when Jeffrey opened the door.

'Back here,' he said. Then, noticing her concern, he assured Sara, 'They're okay.'

Sara stepped over one of the children as she walked toward Jeffrey. She whispered, I need to talk to you.'

He shushed her, indicating she should hurry. He didn't give her a chance to speak as the door closed. 'We've got a missing persons report.'

'A woman?'

'Her husband came in about twenty minutes ago. Larry Gibson.'

'Any relation?'

'Boyd Gibson's brother. Valentine says he's clean.'

Sara frowned, wondering when Jeffrey had started taking Jake Valentine at his word. She asked, 'How long has the woman been missing?'

'Since last Saturday.'

'I didn't find a wedding ring on the body,' Sara said, though she knew the metal could have melted off in the intense fire. 'If his wife has been gone for six days, why did he wait so long to come forward?'

'She's gone missing before,' he told her. 'Had a drinking problem, dabbled in meth for a while. She's a schoolteacher. Those are her kids in the waiting room.'

'Christ,' Sara whispered. A schoolteacher with three kids. What had Lena said? A mother. A wife. A friend. A lover.

Jeffrey took Sara's arm, concerned. 'Are you okay?'

'You got a call on your phone.' She pressed his cell phone into his hand. 'From an old friend.'

He scrolled through the various screens, saying, 'I had Frank do a trace.' He meant a trace on Lena 's phone. 'There's only been one call made from that number since Monday night – to me at the hotel.'

'She said…' Sara began, her throat going dry. 'She said that the same thing that happened to the woman in the car could happen to you.'

'She'd say just about anything to get us out of here.' Jeffrey frowned at the phone in his hand. 'Number withheld. It's probably listed on my call records, but it'll take a day or two for it to show up.'

'Jeffrey

'Let's deal with the missing schoolteacher first,' he suggested. 'It'll be fine. Okay?'

She nodded, though it was far from okay. Unbidden, that same flash of Jeffrey on an autopsy table came to mind. Her stomach twisted into a knot as she preceded him down the hallway, Lena 's words of warning ringing in her ears.

Do you want the same thing to happen to Jeffrey?

Back in Valentine's office, the sheriff was on the business side of his desk. He was writing on a sheet of paper, probably filling out the missing persons report, as the man in front of him gave the details.

'She's just average,' the man said, sounding frightened and angry at the same time. 'I don't know, Jake… describe your wife. I don't know her height. I don't know her weight. She's just average.'

'That's okay, Larry,' Valentine soothed. 'Listen, I've seen her at church about a million times. I could tell you blindfolded what she looks like. No offense, buddy, but she's a good-looking woman. Am I right?'

The man gave a surprised laugh, as if he'd forgotten that detail. With a pang, Sara recalled the autopsy she'd performed on the man's brother. What if the woman in the Escalade was Larry Gibson's wife?

'Guy can't help but notice a good-looking woman,' Valentine said. 'I'd guess she's around five-six in height. For weight we'll put one-twenty. License probably says one-ten, but you know how women are.' He looked up from his form, saw Sara was watching and winked at her. It wasn't a suggestive wink, more like his way of letting her know that he was just doing his job. Whatever he was doing, it was working. Larry Gibson seemed to be calming down.

Valentine asked him, 'That weight okay with you?'

Larry started to nod. 'Yeah, she's about one-twenty, I'd guess. And I remember now – last time I saw her was around two o'clock. She dropped off the kids at the movies, and when she came back, she got on the phone with her mama. I heard her say she needed to go check on her.'

'Well,' Valentine said. 'Sounds like we need to check with her mama.'

'She didn't go,' Larry countered. 'She was taking a bath, and I asked her was she going to her mama's, and she said no, that she'd told her she'd come by tomorrow.'

Valentine tsked, shaking his head. 'Can't make up her mind.'

'Right, that's what I said,' Larry agreed. 'And then she told me she might still go for a walk and I said maybe later because there was a game on at two-thirty and did she need me to do anything before because I wanted to watch the game.'

'Georgia-Alabama?' Valentine asked, probably to confirm the time. 'Man, that was a good game.'

'Yeah.'

'Did you hear her leave?'

'Yeah,' he repeated. 'Just before halftime I heard the door close. I figured she was going for her walk.'

'Couldn't have been the kids?'

'They were at the movies for that Halloween horror special they advertised in the paper last week.'

Valentine made a note on his sheet. 'Halftime, then. That'd put it at around four, don't you think?'

'Four. Yeah.'

Sara looked at Jeffrey, but he was intently following the interview. She wondered if he was as impressed as she was with Valentine's ability to draw out the details from the concerned husband. The sheriff certainly liked to keep his talents hidden.