The Fury - Jason Pinter [41]
Stephen.
Most silencers were not professional. They were
made from simple items. A pillow.Aluminum tubing.
Aluminum tubing filled with steel wool.
I looked up at Amanda.
"Steel wool," I said.
"What?"
"The gun that was used to kill Stephen--whoever
did it used aluminum tubing filled with steel wool to
create a silencer. They didn't find evidence at Stephen's
murder scene, but the coroner said the wounds sug
gested a silencer. But it was impossible to tell what
kind of silencer was used. When I saw Beth-Ann
Downing, there was a piece of metal near her body. I'm
positive it was steel wool. Which means the intruders
knew where Helen was. And between the silencer and
the offroad tires, they didn't want anyone to know they
were there."
Fear grew in Amanda's eyes. "That means the same
people who killed Stephen probably killed Beth."
"And are still after Helen," I said. "Not only that, but
they're actually taking precautions during the murders.
According to Makhoulian, no shell casings or bullets
The Fury
123
were found at Gaines's apartment. Whoever killed him
took them to prevent analysis, but left the gun itself.
Somehow I don't see my father on his hands and knees
picking up spent shell casings, or digging a bullet out
of the wall. And why would they leave the gun?"
"Someone out there has the answer," Amanda said.
"We need to find Helen Gaines," I said. "She has to
know what's going on. And something has to be fright
ening her enough to stay away from the cops."
"If someone doesn't want to be found," Amanda
said, "they won't be found."
"Not necessarily. If you have the resources, anyone
can be found. The trick isn't going from point A to
point Z. There are stops in between. Each one will lead
you closer. We need to find the next step, even if it only
takes us a little bit closer."
"So who knew Helen Gaines besides Stephen and
Beth?" Amanda said. "And who knew Stephen besides
Rose Keller?"
"The question isn't necessarily who knew Helen and
Stephen," I said, "but who else knew Rose and Beth?
Beth-Ann Downing had a daughter. Sheryl Downing,
who now goes by the name Sheryl Harrison. She's
thirty-five, and according to the Indian Lake officer
who spoke to Sheryl, she and Beth hadn't spoken in
nearly ten years, ever since Sheryl moved to California.
For there to be that kind of estrangement, something
had to have driven mother and daughter apart."
"But it could be anything," Amanda said dubiously.
"Maybe Beth disapproved of her daughter's husband.
Maybe Sheryl didn't like her mom's cooking."
"Or maybe there was something else," I said. "It
124
Jason Pinter
took a lot more than burned meat loaf to make me want
to leave a burning trail of rubber when I left Bend."
"So how do you plan to get in touch with Sheryl?"
"She lives in Sherman Oaks. We have her name.
She's on her way to New York, but will likely still be
checking her messages. Give me one minute."
I went to my laptop and booted it. Opening Internet
Explorer, I went to 411.com. I plugged in Sherman
Oaks as the city, then entered the name Sheryl Harrison.
The page loaded for a few seconds, and then three
names popped up, along with their phone numbers.
"Let's hope this works."
I called each of the three numbers. The first Sheryl
Harrison picked up. I told her I had a question about her
mother, Beth. She said her mother had died years ago.
I thanked her and hung up. Neither of the next two were
home. One of them might have been the right one. I had
no idea if they were, or which one. But I left them both
the same message:
"Hi, Sheryl, my name is Henry Parker. I'm so sorry
for your loss. I have a question about your mother. I
don't mean to pry, and I know this is a difficult time for
you, but I wouldn't be contacting you if this wasn't of
the utmost importance. If you can, please call me back
at the following number."
I left my number on both machines, and thanked them
again for their time. One Sheryl would call me back. I had
to believe that.And to believe that, all I had to