Cut and Run (Criminal Profiler 2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Thursday, June 28, Noon

“I’ve got more information on Josie Jones,” Kat proclaimed, suspending any salutation to Faith on the other end of the phone.

It was lunchtime, and Faith had spent the morning conducting the autopsy of a seventy-year-old male who’d accidently been shot by his neighbor. The buckshot had severed the femoral artery, and the victim had bled to death before the neighbor could get him in from the country.

Faith sat down behind her desk. “Kat, I thought you were in school.”

“It’s lunchtime. We get twenty minutes on the prison yard to ourselves.”

She rubbed her fingertips to her temple. “You’re back there because I sweet-talked the principal, and it’s not a prison yard.”

“Broom-Hilda is in her office. She can’t see me. Do you want to know about Josie or not?”

Faith pushed aside the temptation to reprimand Kat about sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. “Just spill it.”

“I found Josie’s older sister’s address. Her new married name is Jones, and she lives right here in Austin.” Kat rattled off the address.

The cops had given her the same name, but she’d not had the time or courage to follow up yet. “How did you find that?”

“Faith, everything’s on the Internet if you know where to look.”

“Apparently.”

“So are you going to see her?” Kat asked excitedly.

“And just show up out of the blue?”

“Why not? Don’t you think she deserves closure, too?”

“Sure she does. But I don’t have any solid evidence for her yet about Josie, who may or may not be related to me.”

“Do you want me to text this tip to Hayden?”

“No. I’ll handle this.” Faith typed in the address to the map app on her computer. The woman didn’t live too far from Faith’s office.

“You don’t sound excited about the idea of seeing her.”

“It’s complicated.”

“You’re worried she won’t want to see you.” Kat’s words echoed exactly what Faith was thinking.

“You’re right, Kat.”

“Don’t be worried. She’ll be glad to see you.”

How could this child possibly know this? It had been over thirty years since anyone had seen Josie. Loved ones moved on and did the best they could to cope with the pain. A reminder about the past from her might not be welcome. “Maybe.”

In the background a bell rang. “I’ve got to go. The prison matron is summoning us back.”

Faith smiled. “Not that bad, kid. Graduate high school, go to college, and the world will be yours.”

“School blows.” Her words didn’t have quite the anger and agitation they’d had before.

“Chin up, Kat.”

The girl moaned and hung up.

Faith was familiar with the area Kat had mentioned. It would take her twenty minutes to get there.

Faith might not get a chance to meet the woman, but she could drive out there and see her house. Maybe spot something that would make sense to her.

Without overanalyzing, as she loved to do, she grabbed her purse, a couple of DNA test kits from supply, and made her way to the locker room to change. Ten minutes after Kat’s call, she was driving north.

Maggie Stapleton’s home was located on a cul-de-sac in North Austin. The one-level rancher was nestled under a large southern live oak tree that shaded the entire yard. There was a blue minivan in the driveway and a rooster weather vane perched on a pole in the front yard.

Drawing in a breath, she tightened her hands on the wheel, beginning to question herself. She had no way of knowing if Josie Jones was her birth mother or that the woman’s body had been found. She had nothing definitive yet. But the need to know was overwhelming.

Before she lost her nerve, she shut off the car engine and crossed the aggregate driveway up to the front door. She rang the bell, almost hoping no one was home. She should have called first, but as soon as she heard the footsteps and saw the front doorknob twist, she had no choice but to stand her ground.

The door opened to a woman in her mid- to late forties. Immediately, she saw similarities between the mug shot and this woman. The face, the eyes, the lips all matched.

“Mrs. Stapleton?” Faith asked.

“That’s right.”

Faith dug out her medical examiner’s identification from her purse. “My name is Dr. Faith McIntyre. I’m with the medical examiner’s office, and I’m investigating a cold case. Was Josie Jones your sister?”

Mrs. Stapleton studied Faith’s identification and then her face. Her head cocked slightly as if something she saw in Faith had registered, but she then brushed the thought aside as if it were too improbable. “Yes, Josie was my sister. Have you found her?”

“I can’t say with any degree of certainty, but I was hoping to find out more about Josie.”

Mrs. Stapleton’s brow knotted. She didn’t invite Faith inside, but she also didn’t slam the door in her face. “It’s been over thirty years. There are days when I have to look at pictures just to remember what she looked like.”

“When did you last see her?”

“It was the fall of 1987. I was a sophomore in college and Josie was a senior in high school and working part-time. She was in foster care and I wanted to have her come live with me, but the judge said I was too young to take care of her.” She moistened her lips and cleared her throat. “Josie was a beautiful girl, and she knew it. But she was always so restless. She was bored so easily. Was always looking for a new thrill. The first time she got arrested was for stealing her foster mother’s watch. The second time, Josie was almost eighteen, and her foster mother felt like she needed a hard lesson. So she stepped back and let Josie face the police and courts. Tough love, she called it.”

“From what I’ve learned so far, she was acquitted of the charges,” Faith said.

“That’s right. The day she turned eighteen, Josie came home like she could pick up where she left off. Her foster mother, who was having none of it, kicked her out. The woman told Josie to find her own place to live. Josie grabbed a few things and left. She said she had someone who said he’d give her a job and a place to live. I never saw my sister again.”

“Do you know who that person was?”

“The cops asked her foster mother that question dozens of times. But Josie never told her or me.” Mrs. Stapleton folded her arms over her chest. “Why, after all this time, are you here?”

“We’ve found a set of remains in the Hill Country. I’m trying to identify them.”

Mrs. Stapleton raised her fingers to her lips. “What makes you think it’s Josie?”

“There are several factors that I can’t discuss right now.”

Mrs. Stapleton’s eyes watered. “To think you might have found Josie after all this time. I prayed for years that she’d show up healthy and whole, but as time passed, I lost hope.”

“Do you have anything that belonged to her?”

“I have a few pictures.” Mrs. Stapleton reached for the door, glanced at Faith as if she were trying to process all the information and emotion flooding her brain. “Does the medical examiner always make personal calls like this?”

“No. This is an unusual case.”

Mrs. Stapleton stared at her and then pushed open the door and motioned Faith inside. The one-level house had a great room with a vaulted ceiling, bedrooms on one side, and the kitchen on the other. Bright light streamed into the room onto a large collection of houseplants. An artist’s easel was propped against the wall along with some paintings.

“You’re an artist?” Faith asked.

“I do portraits. Not getting rich, but it’s a good business.” She crossed to an intricately carved box on the coffee table and opened it. Inside was a stack of older photos that curled at the edges and were slightly yellow. “I wish I had more of Josie. Mom never took many, and neither did her foster mothe

r, who had five other kids to care for.”

Mrs. Stapleton gently handed the stack of six photos to Faith. Nervous energy burned through her body as she glanced at the first picture of two young towheaded girls standing by a Ferris wheel. She flipped to the next picture and found the two girls a couple of years older. Josie in these pictures was a far cry from the somber girl in the mug shot. Each image featured the girls a little older, until she reached the last picture. It was just Mrs. Stapleton.

“Can I snap pictures of these?” Faith asked. “We’ll need it for the files.”

“Sure.”

Faith carefully laid each one on the coffee table and took pictures with her phone. “Thank you, Mrs. Stapleton.” She handed back the photos, along with her business card. “I promise to keep in touch.”

Mrs. Stapleton followed Faith to the door. “Josie did tell me the job she’d been hired for was a nanny position.”

“Nanny?”

“Yes. She said something that was odd then. She said the man who hired her liked her looks a lot.”

“He hired Josie based on her looks.”

“Yeah. That sounded off to me, but Josie told me I worried too much. When she went missing, I relayed that comment to the police, but they never found any evidence that she’d interviewed for a job like that. I’ve always wondered if I had said something more to her, would she have been more careful and would she be here now.”

“Josie wouldn’t want you to believe that. No good will come of it.”

“The guilt is all I have left of her, I guess.”

“Did Josie say anything else about this guy?”

“She said he was handsome. Classy.”

“Did she say anything about the baby or the wife?”

“No.”