The Night Monster_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [14]
Boone shook his head and flipped his notebook closed. He had rings beneath his eyes and his clothes stank of cigarettes. His body language told me that he didn’t want to hear any more of what I had to say. I folded my hands and waited him out.
“Here’s the skinny, Jack,” Boone said. “We have a suspect named Tyrone Biggs cooling his heels down at the county lockup. Biggs is Sara Long’s ex-boyfriend. He also plays basketball at Florida State, and is a really big dude. My partner and I think you saw him in the parking lot at the Day’s Inn.”
I followed college basketball, and knew Tyrone Biggs. He was the Florida State center, and was headed for a pro career in the NBA if his knees held up. He was big, but he wasn’t the monster I’d seen stealing Sara Long out of her motel room.
“It wasn’t Tyrone Biggs,” I said.
“The evidence says it was,” Boone said.
“What evidence is that?”
“Sara Long’s abductor didn’t break into her motel room. She opened the door, and let him in. Chances are, she wouldn’t let in the guy you just described.”
“Did the room have a peephole in the door?”
“Yes. We talked to Sara’s teammates, and they said that she’s extremely cautious, and wouldn’t have opened her door without first looking outside.”
“You’re sure she let him in?”
“Positive.”
That didn’t make sense, but it still didn’t change what I’d seen.
“Are you holding Biggs based solely on that?” I asked.
“There’s more,” Weaver said. “Sara and Biggs recently split up, and Sara considered having a restraining order placed on him. It seems Biggs called her and threatened her if she wouldn’t get back together with him. Sara decided not to pursue it because she didn’t want to hurt his chances of playing pro ball.”
“It wasn’t Tyrone Biggs,” I repeated.
Boone rested his elbows on the rail of my bed and looked me squarely in the eye. I had more to say, but shut my mouth instead.
“All we’re asking is that you drive over to the lockup with us, and take a look at this guy,” Boone said. “Maybe it will clear your head.”
“My head is fine,” I said.
“Come on, Jack. Play ball with us. This guy Biggs is a real jerk.”
The worst thing that could happen during a missing person investigation was that the police followed the wrong leads and went down a rabbit hole. Boone and Weaver were going down a rabbit hole right now. If I didn’t convince them they were wrong, they’d take the rest of the detectives working the investigation down with them.
“Okay,” I said.
Boone slapped his hands on his knees. “Great. I’ll go find your doctor, and get you cleared out of here. Do you want us to wheel you out?”
“I can make it on my own.”
I got out of bed and found my clothes hanging in the closet. I started to dress. “Where’s my gun?” I asked.
“Down at headquarters. It’s being held as evidence.”
“How do I get it back?”
“Talk to Burrell. She has it.”
The detectives went to find a doctor. I dressed while staring at the TV. The channel I’d been watching had an update about Sara. The stolen Ford minivan had been found in the elevated parking garage across the street from the Broward County Library. In the back of the minivan were Sara’s clothes.
I shivered. I knew what had happened inside that van. Sara had been drugged, and her abductors had changed her clothes. They’d also stuck a wig on her, just to play it safe. They’d stolen another car, and driven to a motel, where they’d rented a room with double beds, and tied Sara to one of them. Now they were waiting for the dust to settle. Once the police removed their roadblocks, which they’d eventually have to do, they’d move Sara to another location.
Every crime had a signature, and this crime’s signature was very distinct. I was dealing with a pair of serial abductors who’d done this many times before. If Sara was going to have a chance, I needed to move fast.
CHAPTER 9
finished dressing and headed for the door. A doctor came into my room holding a clipboard. He had me sign a form, and handed me a vial of pills to deal with the pain. The label