Coffee, Kids, and a Kidnapping (A Charlotte Ritter Mystery Book 1) Read online

  “Now, if it were loaded there would obviously be a little kickback, but nothing you couldn’t handle,” she informed me.

  We spent the next half hour with her showing me guns, asking which ones I liked, which ones felt secure in my hand, and which ones were easiest for me to handle. She told me about the classes they offer for everything from getting your concealed carry license to cleaning your gun and tactical shooting. I ended up really liking one of the biggest guns she had shown me, but I wasn’t ready to take that step…not just yet.

  Marcy was very kind, extremely informative, and never pressured me. Leaving there, I felt like I had made some real progress towards a big decision. I had been so focused on what I wanted to ask when I got inside the gun shop that I hadn’t paid attention to where I parked. Having to stand on the sidewalk and scan the parking lot for my van ultimately had a profitable outcome. It occurred to me that Gator couldn’t possibly have been the one to come after me on I-95. We had taken Cole’s car. The only questionable character that knew what my van looked like and exactly where I worked was Randy Tipton.

  When I arrived at the office, Ginny was standing in the hallway giving Cole flack about something.

  “Cole, come to my office,” I sort-of demanded.

  “He’s busy,” snapped Ginny. “We are up to our eyebrows in paperwork.”

  “You don’t even have eyebrows, Ginny. You draw yours on!” I snapped back.

  She stood there in shock while Cole tiptoed away and into my office ahead of me. I just gave Ginny a shrug and walked away.

  “What was that?” Cole questioned once I had closed my office door behind me.

  “She gets on my nerves, and they’re already a bit frayed. I’ll apologize later.”

  Cole chuckled. “I didn’t say you needed to apologize. She’s been impossible all morning. How’d your lunch break visit to the gun shop go?”

  “Very well! I learned so much, but that story will have to wait. I realized something while I was looking for my van. We need to dig deeper into Randy Tipton’s files.”

  Once I had Cole filled-in on my sidewalk revelation, he agreed to help me go back through Randy’s file to see if we missed anything. He even offered to call the Home Improvement store where Randy worked and speak to his manager.

  “But, first I’d better get some things done on this custody battle case that’s come in. Ginny was right. We have tons of work to do,” Cole admitted.

  “Sure. Of course. And I guess I’d better go apologize,” I whined.

  My attempt to tell Ginny how sorry I was for my verbal attack fell flat. She muttered something about it not being a big deal and stomped off to make copies. I was going to have to pray about this and get some help from the Big Guy. Dealing with difficult people was not one of my talents.

  Just before the work day ended, Cole knocked on my office door.

  “I spoke with a co-worker of Randy’s,” Cole began. “He said that he remembered when Amber and Lily first disappeared because Randy was really torn up about it. Said the guy was emotional and distracted for a few days. Then finally Randy went to his manager and asked for some time off. He said Randy even bought one of those build-it-yourself sheds from the store to work on while he was off work. Probably to keep his mind occupied.”

  “A shed?” I asked.

  “Yeah. You know, like to store tools or a mower or whatever.”

  “I know what a shed is, Cole. But, Randy didn’t have one.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I know that because we were at his house and the entire yard was in clear view. I could even see the back yard when we were on the next street over, leaving his subdivision.”

  “You were paying attention to all that?”

  “Of course I was! Trust me. No shed.”

  “Well, that’s interesting.”

  “Isn’t it though? And if he’s so distraught and can’t focus, why attempt building his own shed? He could have gotten one pre-assembled.”

  “I didn’t think about that,” said Cole with one raised eyebrow.

  I grinned.

  “What?” Cole questioned. “Why are you smiling like that?”

  “It’s just kind of funny how much you look like the Rock when you do that eyebrow thing.”

  Cole rolled his eyes. “You’re just using flattery so I won’t feel so stupid for not catching-on to all this about Randy. You’re quite the detective, Charlie.”

  “You know, you’re the only person I let call me that. My name is Charlotte.”

  Cole gave me a wink and started for the door. “Yeah, whatever. You like it.”

  chapter eight

  Get home safely…check. Kids’ homework…check. Supper (actually cooked at home)…check. Quality family time…nope. Everyone retreated to their rooms. Sometimes we used all our social energy at school and work, and there was nothing left for home. It used to bug me, but I learned to accept this as a family quirk. We simply have days when we just need to be alone, and that’s okay.

  With a cup of hot tea in hand and fuzzy socks on my feet, I sat up in bed with my laptop ready to work. If Randy Tipton built a shed, where did he have it and why? It wasn’t on his property…or was it?

  Bringing up the Brevard county property appraiser website, I began searching for property in Randy’s name. Nothing showed up other than the house we visited. A thought popped into my head and I searched under Amber’s maiden name. Sure enough, a ten-acre “unimproved” lot showed up on the screen. This acreage even had a sizeable pond fed by an artesian well. Low visibility, water access…the perfect hiding place.

  I texted Cole, and he responded with “call the police.” He had a way of taking the wind out of my sails. I didn’t want to call the police. Chances were good they’d never get permission to check out the property. What would they say when they requested a warrant…a lawyer’s research assistant told us she had a hunch?

  Next, I texted Su. She was my source of wisdom when I had a decision to make. But, she didn’t immediately respond. Knowing she had three kids on the autism spectrum and went to school full time, I didn’t feel jilted. She’d text back when she could find the time. I thought about what she would tell me, and realized her first bit of advice would be to pray about it. That should have been obvious to me, but it’s easy to get so wrapped up in a situation that you reverse the order of remedies and save the best for last. So, I prayed. Asking for wisdom, direction and safety, I left it in God’s hands and set my work aside. Clicking on Netflix, I figured just one episode of The Great British Baking Show, and I’d go to sleep.

  Saturday finally arrived. Joseph went to work on a film project with his friends. Carrie had a softball sleepover the night before, and would be taken to the game that afternoon by her coaches. I arranged for Tommy to spend the day with a family friend, Ms. Cathy. She had been his teacher when he was younger, and she loved to babysit him from time to time. They had a special bond. She also knew how much I appreciated the break.

  Today was all about work, though. I was going to go snooping…er…do some observation in north Brevard. Cole texted and asked if I had called the police. When I replied that I hadn’t, he called.

  “And why not?” he demanded, the second I answered his call.

  “They won’t be able to do anything with that information. It’s not enough. I’m gonna drive out there—“

  “You’re gonna what?”

  “Drive out there and look around a little. No big deal.”

  “Why on earth would you do something stupid like that?”

  “I just need to see if there’s anything suspicious out there. Then I could give the police more information; maybe something actionable!”

  “You don’t know who or what is out there. You have nothing to protect yourself. This is a really bad idea. Don’t go.”

  “But, Cole, what about Amber and Lily? Someone has to be looking into this; doing some searching. What if I find them?”

  “What if you find bo
dies?”

  His words froze me. I hadn’t allowed myself to consider that possibility.

  “Charlotte?”

  “I’m here,” I sighed.

  “Just wait a few minutes. I’ll go with you.”

  Cole drove his old beater truck, an eighties GMC that looked as though it had been driven in a demolition derby. He figured it could handle rough, dirt roads and any debris we come across while out in “the boonies.” Plus, the two persons of interest in our amateur investigation had seen my van and Cole’s Explorer. This truck would give us an element of surprise. At least, that was the idea.

  “You know, I’m an only child. But, I always wanted a big brother,” I confessed to Cole as he drove us toward Randy’s property.

  “I have a big brother. They’re not that great,” Cole joked.

  “I happen to know that you adore your big brother.”

  “Yeah, well.”

  We rode in silence that last few miles, and then I helped to navigate while studying the map on my phone’s GPS.

  “This is it. Maybe there’s a road or a path along here somewhere.”

  The truck bumped along the pitted dirt road. For miles around, all we could see was overgrown land filled with palms and pines; osprey and blackbirds flying overhead, an occasional tortoise crawling along the roadside. A few minutes down the road, I noticed a small road of sorts. It was barely wide enough for the truck, but we turned onto it anyway. Branches brushed against the windows and the bumps were more plentiful. Cole had to slow to a snail’s pace to save his wheel alignment and to keep me from getting motion sickness.

  The trees began to clear and we found ourselves driving into a grassy clearing. Just a few feet ahead of us was a rather large body of water; large enough that it contained a decent sized island with plenty of space to build a house or a shed.

  “I though you said he had a pond on this property. This is a lake!” exclaimed Cole.

  “What’s the difference exactly? I’ve always wondered.”

  “Doesn’t matter now. We’re here and we don’t have a boat. Hand me those binoculars.”

  Cole took the binoculars and carefully stepped out of the truck. I followed after him and we walked to the edge of the water. He put the binoculars to his eyes and made adjustments, pointing them towards the island.

  “There’s acres of un-cleared land here,” I told him. “If Lily and Amber are here, they could be anywhere.”

  “They’re on that island,” said Cole, matter-of-factly.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because there’s the shed.”

  Cole pointed and handed me the binoculars. There, practically hidden by a grouping of trees, was a wood shed. Its lone window covered by a plywood board.

  “Now, we call the police,” Cole stated.

  “Yeah. Call the police.”

  We decided I should call Sergeant Atwood since he had given me the lead on Randy Tipton.

  “There’s several problems here,” he told me, sounding agitated. “One, you have no business being there. Two, you could be in danger. And three, you’re out of my jurisdiction. Lucky for you, I have a friend in the sheriff’s office that I’m going to send your way. I’m going to tell this friend that you were wandering around and got lost. He’ll have your location, and if he has any suspicions, given what he knows about this Tipton guy; he can look into it. You two will leave as soon as he finds you. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I squeaked nervously. “Understood.”

  “Someone’s on the way?” Cole asked.

  “Yes, but it’ll be a while. And the sergeant didn’t seem inclined to investigate. Mostly he wants to make sure we leave.”

  “I have an idea, but for the life of me I don’t know why I’m even suggesting this.”

  “What? What’s your idea?” I begged.

  Cole rolled up his pant legs and then searched for a long tree branch. When he found one the length he was looking for, he waded a few feet into the water and stuck the branch down to the bottom.

  “Just as I thought,” he said. “This is pretty shallow. We might be able to wade across.”

  “You know, the Indian River Lagoon is only four feet deep. You can wade from one side to the other,” I informed him.

  “Thank you for that bit of Florida trivia,” Cole quipped. He kept wading and was nearly to the other side when he waved me over to join him.

  “You want me to cross, too?” I questioned.

  “That’s the idea. Do you want to investigate or not?”

  I rolled up the legs on my nicest jeans and shuffled my way to Cole. The water was cold and murky. Twice something brushed against my leg and gave me the heebie jeebies.

  Stepping onto the island, we heard a noise coming from the shed. Cole motioned for me to follow him and we stepped quickly through some brush to the side of the small wooden structure. The one tiny window had a piece of plywood nailed over it so that we couldn’t see inside. I walked slowly toward the door and saw that it was chained and locked. More noises from inside startled me. Cole stepped up behind me and examined the shed.

  “Something’s inside, no doubt,” I whispered to him.

  More noises; only this time we could tell it was a voice. Someone was inside that locked shed.

  “She’s talking. See, I told you he had her in there,” I whispered enthusiastically.

  “We don’t know if it’s her or not. And we have no way of opening that door.”

  “So what should we do?”

  Before Cole could answer me, we heard a car bouncing its way down the dirty road. Not knowing if it was the sheriff’s deputy or Randy Tipton coming to check on his hostages, Cole and I ducked into a patch of tall grass along the waterline and remained silent and still.

  The car stopped and a door opened. I struggled to see through the grass and yet keep myself hidden.

  “I see your car, but I don’t see you. This is Deputy Crowder,” the man called out.

  Cole stood and grabbed my hand, pulling me behind him through that nasty, cold water.

  “What are you two doing out there?” the deputy asked.

  “We heard a person’s voice from inside that shed,” I said, pointing to the island behind me.

  “A person?”

  “Yes, Sir. We believe there’s a woman inside,” Cole said.

  “Actually, a woman and her young daughter,” I added.

  “Wait here,” said the deputy and he waded the water while asking if anyone was there and needed help.

  “I’ll ask again; is anyone in there? Does anyone need assistance?” Deputy Crowder yelled at the shed. No answer.

  We waited for five or six minutes and not a sound was heard. The deputy crossed the water again, and was none too happy with us.

  “I think you two need to quit investigating private property. Can you find your way back out to the main road or do you need assistance?”

  We assured him we could find our way and drug our soaking wet selves to the truck. Cole and I rode in silence for what seemed like a long time.

  “You’re going to have to let this one go, Charlie,” he finally said.

  Sighing heavily, I nodded in agreement.

  “You did your best. You’ve pointed the police in the right direction. All you can do now is let them take over and see what happens. Maybe they’ll get a warrant and open that shed. That’s a possibility.”

  “I know.”

  Cole, sensing my despair, decided to be a comedian. “I’ve heard stories about having to bail bratty little sisters out of trouble. Now I know.”

  I patted his shoulder. “Funny. Very funny.”

  Sunday morning arrived, and I was grateful to have managed to sleep until eight before Tommy knocked on my door.

  “Maymay, are you awake?” he asked.

  “Technically, yes,” I replied, sarcastically.

  “Do we have chips and salsa?”

  I shook my head in disbelief. Who on earth wants chips and salsa
for breakfast? Tommy, that’s who. I opened my door and he had to step back to let me out of the room. Then, he followed me to the kitchen as I pulled the chips from the pantry and a jar of salsa from the fridge.

  “Help yourself,” I told him. He did.

  Starting the Keurig, I leaned against the kitchen counter and purposely took a few deep breaths. Part of me wanted to just stay in pajamas and lounge around the house.

  “Hey, Mom!” Carrie greeted me. “Want me to make us all some kolaches?”

  “Sure! There should be a couple cans of biscuits in the fridge, and the Little Smokies sausages are in the fridge in the garage.”

  “Do we have enough cheese?”

  “We should, but you’d better check before you get started.”

  Carrie found half a bag of shredded cheddar and went to work making breakfast. The black, magical device dispensed my coffee. I inhaled the amazing aroma of the Toasted Coconut coffee and took a long, glorious drink. I suddenly felt awake enough to pick out something to wear to church.

  “Good morning,” mumbled Joseph, shuffling into the kitchen with barely opened eyes and serious bed head.

  “My coffee just finished. I’ll start yours,” I told him. “Toasted Coconut or hazelnut?”

  “Either. Both.”

  “One of those mornings, huh? Me, too.”

  Before I knew it, Carrie had the kolaches in the oven. My mother and grandmother would have called them pigs in a blanket, but when we briefly lived in Texas, we picked up the term kolaches. As Florida residents, few people ever knew what we were talking about; but when they tasted them…well, who cared what they were called?

  Once the coffee kicked in some more and I tried on three different dresses, it was smooth sailing getting everyone ready and out the door for church. Tommy knew right where his shoes were and everything. We arrived just early enough for Carrie to take Tommy to his class before she met Joseph and the rest of the youth group for their own version of Sunday school. The downside was that they left me standing in the foyer alone and the gaggle of grannies came at me full force.