The kid was nine or ten and as far as Chace knew didn’t have superpowers or the capacity for clairvoyance. He was in survival mode and would take chances in order at the very least to eat.
The longer he remained gone, the more Chace’s, and Faye’s, concern escalated.
But this was not the only thing weighing on Chace’s mind.
The town had not surprisingly not rejoiced at Darren Newcomb’s murder.
It wasn’t that he was well-liked. He was roundly hated. But it was the same as Misty. No one felt he deserved that and further, no one felt his kids did.
They were braced for whatever might come next after what had already happened. It didn’t take someone with the powers of deduction akin to Sherlock Holmes’s to know that Newcomb’s murder might be the tip of the iceberg.
As a matter of course in the investigation of Darren Newcomb’s murder, Newcomb’s home had been searched and Clinton Bonar and the men he’d worked for had received visits from Frank.
It was also not a surprise that they found Newcomb’s house had been tossed and whoever tossed it did a thorough job. Almost the entirety of it was destroyed. Couch cushions torn open. Mattresses slashed. Carpet pulled up. Linoleum ripped away. Dresser drawers broken. Even pockets in clothing turned inside out or ripped out completely.
Whether they found what they were looking for was anyone’s guess.
Chace had visited the scene. Even though Frank was primary that didn’t mean Chace wasn’t still looking for his unwanted but dead wife’s murderer.
What he saw made him come to some conclusions.
Newcomb and Misty’s murderer, if they were the same person, knew that when he did Misty his tracks would be covered by the dirt at CPD. That didn’t mean he wasn’t careful with everything but his se**n. With Newcomb, he left them nothing. Whoever tossed Newcomb’s house also left nothing but a mess. No prints. No one had heard anything or seen anything. Then again, Newcomb lived local but removed, up in the hills at the east of town. The closest house was a wood away. Easy not to hear or see a thing.
Still, Chace didn’t think the killer did the search. He reckoned the man got in, did his thing, and got the f**k out. Whoever went through Newcomb’s house took their time. A man with one, possibly two local murders on his hands would not hang around.
This meant Bonar and the Boys had a team working Carnal and therefore shit hitting the town was shittier.
Further, Bonar and the Boys were not thrilled to get visits from Frank.
This was communicated through voicemail by Bonar and Chace’s father. He’d ignored both calls and listened only to Bonar’s message. He deleted his father’s without listening. This was because, from experience, he knew that even the man’s voice set his teeth on edge in a way that could stick with him for days.
But he’d replied to Bonar in a text, Threat was made against Newcomb to a police officer. This was reported. Murder investigated by the book.
This was all he said, he felt it said it all so he intended to say no more. After receiving this text Bonar had called him three times. Chace had answered the calls then immediately ended the calls without even putting the phone to his ear, taking away Bonar’s opportunity to leave a message.
He gave up.
But Chace knew they hadn’t.
Chace knew Newcomb was a moron, racist pig who beat his wife but he was not stupid enough to keep the shit he had on those men at his house and he was a good enough father not to want it close to his kids. Where he kept it or who he gave it to either still had it and were in danger or it had been found and the threat was over.
Frank was looking into the former and not coming up with much.
They’d have to wait and see if it was the latter.
If this wasn’t enough to make his thoughts heavy, there was more.
The library.
Chace had made five calls to the president of the City Council asking for specifics about the future of the library and when the library’s possible closure would come up for public discussion at an open Council meeting.
Although all his calls and messages were taken by Cesar Moreno’s assistant, Chace had not received a call back.
Chace knew Cesar Moreno, the City Council president. He knew him as a good man, a family man and a devoted husband. The kind of husband who still held hands with his wife even though they’d been married eighteen years. The kind of father who was always at his three sons’ baseball games. The kind of father who doted on his only daughter like she was a princess.
In fact, his daughter’s Quinceañera last year was such a huge event, it was still talked about. Well-attended, most the town invited, no expense spared and all of the traditional ceremonies, such as the Thanksgiving mass, the donning of the crown and the changing of the shoes were performed.
Chace knew Cesar well enough he was invited to the Quinceañera but since Misty was still alive and he’d have to bring her, as he usually did when they received an invitation as husband and wife, he declined attending.
Cesar knew Chace enough to understand.
Misty had been devastated. She liked a good party, a chance to dress up and a further chance to strut around on Chace’s arm. This was why he very rarely gave her those opportunities. That and he couldn’t stomach spending time with her.
Cesar had also kicked in the instant shit went down at CPD. His hands were tied when Arnie was at his zenith of power and he didn’t like it. But he was smart enough to keep quiet about it in order to protect himself and his family from being targeted and he did what he could within the Council and as an advisor and leader in the town.
Therefore, the moment he could begin clean up, he did. Openly, honestly, quickly, no red tape and a great deal of communication. The goal was to communicate to the town that the storm had passed and it was a dawn of a new day. Chace knew he threw himself into this including spending countless hours engaged in reorganizing the Department, searching for replacement personnel, hiring and working with consultants and holding town meetings to gather feedback and keep citizens informed.
So his non-response to Chace was a surprise Chace didn’t like and further didn’t get. From what he knew of Cesar, he was a civic leader, a cultural leader, a respected businessman and a decent family man. He was honest, direct and approachable.
This was not his MO at all.
And Chace didn’t like it.
“Please don’t curse.”
Faye’s voice took him out of his thoughts and he asked, “What?”
He felt her eyes on him so he glanced at her before looking back at the road as she repeated, “Please don’t curse in front of my family.”