“Mine too. She’d bake her own bread and spread it thick with butter.” Webber smacked his lips. “Nothing better.” He scanned his notes. “So this guy is supposed to have seen Knox carrying a woman into his motel room. This in itself doesn’t make him the Axman.”
Rowley shrugged. “If the sheriff wants him interviewed, she has an angle. Knox has priors and if the woman fits the description of Sky Paul, he could be a suspect. Right now, we’re just treading water. We don’t have a shred of evidence and no suspects.”
“Okay, I guess we see what Aitken has to say.” Webber slapped his hat on his head and climbed out of the cruiser.
Rowley stepped over a mound of graying snow littered with candy wrappers and followed him into the store. The bell chime surprised him. It was as if he’d walked into the 1950s. The young woman at the counter smiled at them. “I’m afraid we don’t have much to offer you deputies. Folks have been coming in all day.”
Rowley glanced at the remaining cakes, cookies and bread inside a glass cabinet and smiled at her. “We’re looking for Ty Aitken. Is he here?”
“I am.” A man in his early forties strolled out from the back wiping his hands on a flour-covered apron. “What can I do for you?”
Rowley introduced himself and Webber. “We heard via an informant that you witnessed Jeff Knox carrying a woman into his motel room on Friday of last week.” He pulled out his notebook and pen. “Is this true?”
“Come out back.” Aitken motioned for them to follow him. “I’ll tell you what I know.”
They followed him into a room set to one side of the huge ovens and preparation areas. It had a table and chairs in the center. A couple of lockers against one wall and a counter with a sink. Cups hung on hooks beside a coffee machine and a refrigerator hummed in one corner. Rowley took a seat but Webber stood by the door and leaned one shoulder against the wall. Rowley opened his notebook. “Okay, what did you see?”
“I’m usually here between the hours of ten and five overnight. I’m only here now because we received a special order.” Aitken rolled his shoulders wearily. “That night I’d mixed the dough and set it to rise, then went to find the order book. I remembered I had an order for a birthday cake but I’d left the details at home. My wife handles that side of the business and it was too late to call her, so I went home. On the way back—”
Rowley held up a hand. “What time was this?”
“Close to three.” Aitken rubbed his chin. “I saw him as plain as day. Jeff Knox was carrying a young woman with blonde hair over one shoulder from the back seat of his vehicle to the motel room. She was moving, like wriggling, but not screaming.” He frowned. “I know Knox is a lowlife, so I turned off my headlights and cruised to the curb. I could see clear into the room. He dropped her onto the bed. She wasn’t protesting, so I figured she wanted to be there and I drove off.”
“Are you aware of the people missing between here and Black Rock Falls?” Webber straightened. “It’s been all over the news.”
“The hours I work, I don’t catch the news.” Aitken frowned. “Who went missing?”
Rowley looked up from his notes. “A young woman by the name of Sky Paul, blonde, small build, in her early twenties.” He noted Aitken’s astonished expression. “We believe a man kidnapped her on that Friday night around midnight.”
“Do you recall what vehicle Knox was driving?” Webber leaned both hands on the table and stared at Aitken. “You may have witnessed a crime.”
“Holy shit! I don’t recall the make, and under the flashing lights on the sign over the motel, I’m not sure of the color. A silver, maybe, or white van.” Aitken met Rowley’s eyes. “Do you figure he’s killed her?”
Rowley leaned back in his chair. “We’ll need more evidence before we come to any conclusion. The sheriff will likely apply for a warrant to search his motel room. I’ll need you to write a statement about what you witnessed. Can you do that for me, Mr. Aitken?”
“Sure.” Aitken, visibly shaken, pushed to his feet. “I need coffee first.” He went to the counter and pulled down three cups. “I’m dead on my feet.”
“Okay, we can wait.” Webber flicked a glance at Rowley. “I’ll go get a statement book from the truck.”
Sometime later, with the statement completed, Rowley led the way to his cruiser with a paper sack of cakes and cookie
s tucked under one arm. He glanced at his watch. It was close to five and the weather was closing in. He slid behind the wheel. “I hope we make it through to Black Rock Falls. You’d better call the sheriff with an update.”
“One thing.” Webber peered into the loaded bag of goodies. “We won’t starve.” He pulled out his cellphone and called the sheriff. “Ma’am, it looks like we have a suspect.”
Forty-Six
Sunday, week two
Sunday morning arrived and Jenna felt as if she might as well beat her head against a brick wall. It seemed that every time she had gotten ahead in the case, something happened to slow down the investigation. As Knox was considered a resident of the Blackwater Motel, she would need more than the owner’s permission to search his room. To avoid any issues if they proved Knox was involved and the case went to court, she needed to obtain a search warrant issued by the Blackwater judge. She would be out of her jurisdiction in Blackwater but wouldn’t have a problem seeking assistance from the Blackwater Sheriff’s Department.
After emailing the paperwork to the Blackwater judge, he’d refused to issue a search warrant on what he termed as hearsay and requested more information on Knox. It had been pointless to argue with him and she’d set to work searching the Blackwater databases. She hadn’t asked for Kane’s help but he had worked beside her well into the night hunting down information on the hitchhiker rape case and two cases of violence against women then presenting it in a nice concise file for Judge Eaton. Now they had probable cause but she wasn’t sure it would be enough. Judge Eaton was being difficult and to make things worse they would have to wait for him to return home from church before speaking with him again.
They were on their way to Wolfe’s house to collect his girls and take them back to the ranch. By the time Wolfe had completed the autopsy on Mrs. Palmer, they could drop the girls back home then approach the judge again with the new evidence. Sunday would be a washout. If the judge agreed to issue the warrant on a Sunday, they would have to convince the Blackwater sheriff to send one of his deputies to assist in the search then try to get through the heavy overnight snowfall to reach Blackwater. Bone weary, she groaned softly but the sound caught Kane’s attention.
“Are you okay?” Kane’s eyes had not left the ice-covered road but he gave her arm a squeeze. “Or am I giving you the silent treatment again?” He glanced at her then moved his attention back to the highway.
Jenna turned in her seat. The blinding winter light picked out the sharp lines of his face. He was thinner now, without one ounce of spare fat, and carried a haunted look in his eyes that made her heart twist. “It’s not you, it’s the delay in the search warrant, although I wish you’d talk to me rather than keep what’s eating at you bottled up inside. We had gotten to be close friends before your head injury and I miss that.”