Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,76
was everything she’d suspected he’d be and more, and she could feel herself getting attached. She rolled over with a groan. What had she done to herself?
Her gaze settled on the glowing red digits of the alarm clock: 4:44.
He’d exaggerated the time. Why?
It was like someone snapped their fingers in front of her. Bailey, wake up!
He’d had a callout. And he didn’t want her to know. He didn’t want her pelting him with questions like the annoying reporter that she was.
Cursing, she kicked off the covers and got up. She grabbed a T-shirt off the chair where Boba Fett slept peacefully on top of her jeans. She yanked the shirt on and padded into her kitchen, and the dull throbbing in her foot reminded her she needed to change the bandage. She found her phone on the table beside her first-aid supplies.
Her ringer was off, and she’d missed a call from Hannah. But nothing from Max. So what had Jacob been called out for? Anything big would have gone out on the scanner.
She had a text message from Seth: Call me ASAP. He’d texted her at 1:23 a.m.
And at 12:55, Call me.
And 12:40, I found something! Call me.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
JACOB PARKED BESIDE the CSI van on the edge of the parking lot. As he slid from his truck, he looked around but didn’t see Kendra. A blue tent had been erected near a fence surrounding a pair of brown dumpsters. He glanced behind him at the three-story apartment complex nearby. People were milling around near the stairs in bathrobes and warm-up suits, gawking at all the action, and the sun wasn’t even up yet.
“Tell me you brought coffee.”
He turned to see Kendra striding across the lot toward him. She wore her typical pantsuit—gray today—and the white face mask around her neck told him just what kind of morning he was in for.
“No coffee,” he said.
“Shit.”
“What have you got?” he asked.
“Caucasian male in a garbage bag with a slit throat. Body’s a mess.”
“His throat was slit?”
“Yep.” Kendra lifted an eyebrow. That was two knife deaths in one week, which was two more than usual. “Not your typical MO, so Crawford thought we’d be interested. He’s the lead.”
“You two on decent terms?”
“Decent enough.”
Kendra had dated the detective years ago, when they’d both been in uniform. Maybe the connection would work to their advantage. The fact that he’d given Kendra a call this morning was a good sign.
Jacob looked at the dumpster. “Age?”
“Based on the body, no clue. I’m telling you, he’s a mess. He’s been in there a while, and some kind of critter tore into that garbage bag. But a helpful building resident gave a tentative ID based on an Atlanta Braves cap. She thinks it’s her neighbor.”
“A cap? That’s it?”
“I know, I know. But no one’s seen this guy around in days, and his brother’s been by here twice looking for him.” Kendra took a notebook from her jacket and flipped it open. “Missing guy’s name is Scott Rydell. Age twenty-nine. He didn’t show up for work Saturday. By Sunday, people were worried.”
“Where’s Rydell work?”
“A kennel on Airport Parkway. Evidently, he loves animals, and people knew something was up when he didn’t come in to cover his weekend shifts, because the animals didn’t get fed. This is all from the neighbor, who talked to the brother.”
He looked at the dumpsters again, frowning.
“Trash day is Monday,” Kendra said, reading his mind. “But recycling comes every two weeks.”
“Any sign of Rydell’s car?”
“He takes the bus, evidently. But listen.” Kendra stepped closer. “The kennel job isn’t his only source of income. He also rents out a studio apartment here in the building.”
“Airbnb?” Jacob asked.
“One of those, yeah. Someone was staying there all last week, but no one new has been in since then. A couple came knocking on Rydell’s door Thursday, looking to pick up a key, but no one answered, and they left pissed off.”
“We need to find out who that last guest was.”
“I’m working on it. I don’t have a name yet, but I talked to the neighbor down the hall. This man says he saw the last guest pull in here on Friday evening of last week.”
“He get a look at the person?”
“Not much of one, but he knows it was a man. Says the car was a black Ford Expedition with Illinois plates.”
Jacob gave her a long look, and he could tell they were thinking the same thing. This was why she’d called him out here at the butt crack of