Then I repeat Opal’s words from last night.
“Something for every palate.”
I’ve had no success so far with Jamie Lyons, but I got lucky for both Jesper Olson and Bryonne Taylor. Jesper had an active Instagram account until just after Thanksgiving last year when the posts abruptly stopped. Bryonne’s name showed up when I was scrolling through his feed. A picture posted in early August, with the caption; ‘Me and Bryonne hopping the next train.’
I pull up the image I downloaded and turn the screen to show Matt.
The two are standing in front of what looks to be an older railway coach. A good-looking, lanky kid with blond curly hair, his arm curled around a petite girl with long black hair and striking light blue eyes standing in front of him. The top of her head barely reaches his shoulder. Both kids are smiling at the camera. Behind them you can just make out the word ‘Bluegrass’ on the side of the train car.
It’s clear someone else took the picture.
“That’s that scenic railroad, isn’t it?” Matt comments.
“Bluegrass Scenic Railroad and Museum. Yes, it is.”
The museum is in Versailles, a town just outside Lexington, probably a twenty-five or thirty-minute drive from here.
“Okay. Joe can dig into that,” Matt says. “We need to know where they’re from and if someone’s missing them. The rest of us need to focus on finding Georgia. The family and Chief Furmont are putting the pressure on.”
I don’t blame them. We’ve been here a week and have come up with little more than suspicions and theories to show for it. Normally, we’d use local law enforcement offices for a center of operations, but because of the chief of police’s personal connection to the case, Matt made the decision to stick to our hotel to operate from. More often than not we find a family member or close family friend is involved in the disappearance of a child and, although there is no indication the chief is in any way involved, we’re running this by the book.
For the most part, anyway. Working with a private organization like GEM is certainly out of the norm. Something I definitely am finding my way around in.
Because I’m the one who recognized Opal from our earlier encounter, I was assigned as her contact and have my focus on the center. Matt, as team leader, is responsible for keeping the larger picture in view, handing out assignments as needed to the rest of the team.
“What about Kramer’s guests this morning?” I prompt.
“We’ll have to be discreet looking into them. Don’t want to raise any suspicions. See if Opal can find out if they were the same guests at previous occasions or whether the players are different each time. For now, other than they’re all wealthy, prominent members of the community, there is little else to connect them. Maybe if we can identify more players, some kind of pattern becomes visible.”
He gets up from the bed and heads for the door before turning to face me.
“Our resources are limited though,” he cautions. “Finding Georgia, and the other missing kids, has to stay our priority.”
It’s my opening to make a suggestion I’ve been toying with.
“Agreed, and I know we need to minimize local law enforcement involvement, but how about GEM?”
“What about them?”
“From what I gather from Jacob Branch, there are two more operatives currently in Lanark. Why not utilize them as well?” I propose. “Chances are, they’re working on much the same things we are, which is a waste of time if you ask me.”
“Maybe, but what can they do that we can’t?”
“They’re a private organization without the same procedural parameters.”
It’s a careful way of saying they don’t necessarily have the boundaries of the law to hold them back. Especially checking into Kramer’s three breakfast guests. It may come in handy to be able to skirt the legal limitations and circumvent the loops our CARD team would have to jump through.
“It wouldn’t produce any evidence we could use to build a case.”
“Maybe not,” I agree, “but what if it helps us find Georgia Braxton and the others?”
I can see the struggle on his face.
Matt is a by-the-book kind of guy for the most part and is good at managing all aspects of an operation, which is why he is well-suited to the role of team leader. However, it also means he doesn’t like what he can’t control, and getting an independent agency like GEM involved would mean easing up on those tight reins.
“I want to talk to Branch myself,” he finally concedes.
So far, I’ve been the point of connection with Jacob Branch but I get Matt wants to set the parameters for any further collaboration with GEM. After all, as team leader it’ll be his ass on the line.
“I’ll give him your number.”
He nods and goes to open the door when the sound of a phone ringing stops him.
“Driver,” he answers after checking his screen.
He listens for only a moment before his eyes meet mine, his lips compressed into a tight line.
“Understood. We’re on our way.”
When he ends the call, I know I’m not going to like whatever news he just received, but I still have to ask.
“What was that about?”
He draws in a deep breath and slowly releases it through pursed lips.
“This morning, a farmer clear-cutting a swath of land on the bank of the Kentucky River discovered a body.”
EIGHT
Opal
The knock on my door doesn’t really surprise me, but the sudden rush of nervous anticipation I feel does.
I’m not prone to fussing or fidgeting, and vanity has not been part of my emotional makeup for decades, but still I find myself glancing in the mirror over the dresser, patting down a few strands of wild hair before I reach for the door.
Maybe it’s because I shared my real name with him yesterday, but for some reason this time when he steps into my motel room it feels different. More personal…intimate, even.
“Hope you like Mexican,” he says, plonking a brown paper bag on the table.
Another shared meal.
I wince when I’m hit with a flash of guilt. I’d just blown off Janey and Raj, who asked me along for a quick bite, and if I’m honest with myself, it was because I’d secretly hoped Mitch would show up again.
Guilt doesn’t stop me from taking two plates and cutlery from my drawer and sitting down across from him though. But it does propel me to talk about the case over dinner instead of asking him about the dark shadows I catch in his eyes.
“I wasn’t able to safely go through the files today,” I tell him. “I was hoping to look for more photos, but there was a lot of traffic out in the hallway and closing the door to the office would’ve raised questions.”
Mitch takes a bite of his burrito as he attentively listens, while I’m trying not to get distracted by the flexing of his stubbled square jaw.
“A couple of girls were helping out in the kitchen with cleanup and I overheard them whisper about the football player. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time he’d been there. Couldn’t get them to tell me more.”
I’d pretended to be a fan of his and asked them if he came often, which resulted in a mumbled, “sometimes,” from one of the girls. But when I probed further to see if they knew why he was visiting, they clammed up. Kaylie—the older girl—kept looking nervously behind them into the hallway visible beyond the propped-open door.