Manhunt. Tyler Snell Anne
It was smooth—void of facial hair that would hide the perfection that outlined his face. How kissable it looked, Sophia would have thought, had anger, fear and suspicion not been vying for the top emotional spot. Richard had called her with a voice drenched in worry. When she admitted she had no idea where Lisa was, he had assured her he would have it taken care of—that he would take all of the necessary steps to find her sister. Sophia had assumed that meant talking to the police.
“Why wouldn’t he have talked to you?” she asked.
“That’s a good question,” Thatcher said before leveling his gaze. There was a look she couldn’t decipher behind the eyes of the detective. All she knew was that it comforted and scared her at the same time. “That’s a very good question.”
Detective Thatcher’s cool expression returned as he ordered Sophia to stay in his office. He sent in one of the beat cops, Officer Whitfield, to take down an official statement with all of the contact information between her sister and her. Whether he sent in a woman thinking it would make her more cooperative, she didn’t know.
Cara, as she was told to call the woman, was curt but kind and even though her gender didn’t affect Sophia’s mood, she managed to dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s.
“Don’t worry too much,” Cara said with a smile that contrasted her darker skin. “Detective Thatcher is one dedicated man. He’ll locate your sister and bring her back, no problem.” She went as far as to pat Sophia’s knee. “I’m sure she’s just lost track of time or is staying with a friend.”
Sophia resisted the urge to disagree and instead pasted on a smile. Maybe the woman had softened her attitude a bit, but that was only patching one spot in a dam that was ready to burst. If she didn’t get some answers soon, there would be no man or woman in the whole town who could keep her from exploding.
“Thank you for waiting,” Detective Thatcher greeted when he came back in. He nodded to Officer Whitfield as she collected her things and exited.
“Well, I seem to be doing that a lot here.”
Thatcher ignored the pointed response and leveled his gaze at her.
“Miss Hardwick, do you know any women by the names of Trixie Martin or Amanda Alcaster?”
Sophia didn’t have to think about that long. She shook her head. “No.”
“Those names don’t ring a bell at all? Maybe your sister, Lisa, has mentioned them?”
She crossed her arms across her chest. “No, I don’t recall her talking about them. As I stated before, Lisa and I haven’t been on the best of terms recently. There’s a chance she may know them, but I couldn’t help you with that,” she answered honestly. “What does that have to do with Lisa being missing? Do you think they took her?” She compiled a quick list of why someone would kidnap Lisa. For one, she was beautiful—long legs, big bust, thick black, tangle-free hair and a pair of lips that drew men’s attentions from a mile away. Lisa was also annoyingly perfect when it came to socializing. She knew how to command a room and entertain an audience. She also seemed to be dating a man who carried a lot of weight in town. Surely any or all of those reasons could make a few women jealous.
Detective Thatcher scratched at his chin, staring through her as he thought. When he realized she needed an answer, he straightened.
“I don’t think so.” His answer was made to put her at ease, but it wasn’t as concrete as she would have liked.
“Then why are we talking about them and not about Richard and the fact that he did not report my sister missing?”
“I’m about to go question him myself,” Thatcher said, pushing off the desk. He handed her a piece of paper.
“That’s my office number and my cell number along with Detective Langdon’s numbers.”
Sophia raised her eyebrow. “And you’re giving this to me why?” It was his turn to look confused.
“So you can contact us if you hear from Lisa or think of anything else that could help this investigation.”
“But you just said you’re going to go talk to Richard, right?”
“Yes, I certainly am.”
“I’m coming with you, then.” Sophia stood and pushed her bag up her shoulder. Detective Thatcher looked less than pleased but she didn’t care. She had up and left her job as an office manager at Jones Office Supply, traveled from the big city to a town that in comparison would barely fit in a shoe box, all while being submerged in a pool of worry. She didn’t want answers—she needed them.
“We’d like it if you would stay here and answer a few questions to help us, Miss Hardwick. Don’t worry, I’ll ask Richard all of the important questions.”
“I can answer questions later, Detective. Right now I want to go see what Richard has to say.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She was glad she hadn’t changed her outfit since work that morning. The heels gave her the height to feel intimidating.
Thatcher mirrored her stance, crossing his arms over his chest. The biceps that flexed at the movement didn’t lie about his workout habits.
“Listen, you’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t know much about your sister’s boyfriend or this town, so let me enlighten you on a few things.” He made sure she was focusing on what he said next. “Richard Vega is the wealthiest man in Culpepper. He is also one of the most loved residents. Pissing him off and yelling at him won’t get you any answers. At least, no truthful ones. If you want to come with me you need to calm down and try to keep a level head. Got it?”
Sophia nodded, slightly offended. It was true that she wasn’t the best with confrontation but why Richard didn’t report Lisa missing was a big question she was more than capable of asking. Unless Thatcher was arresting her for something, there was no way he could stop her regardless. She knew how to work the GPS on her phone—she could get to Richard’s by herself. Sophia would go over the detective’s head or behind his back if necessary. He must have guessed as much. After a tense moment he let out a long sigh.
“You’re riding with me, then,” he said, not trying to hide his annoyance.
“I have my own car, thank you.”
“Listen, if you want to come along, you’re riding with me.”
“Why?” she asked, voice raised. Was this some kind of cop-civilian power trip? She wasn’t afraid to start yelling again.
“Because I want to make sure you come back to answer those questions.” He took his keys out of his desk and motioned for her to go through the door. “I have a feeling you aren’t a person who respects any kind of rules.”
Sophia tried not to blush as she struggled to get into the cab of the detective’s truck. Her heels, now more cumbersome than intimidating, snagged on the small step up making her look like a drunken fool as she stumbled inside. At least Thatcher kept his mouth shut and pretended not to notice. If she had been Lisa, the movement would have been effortless and graceful.
“How far is it to Richard’s?” Sophia asked as they turned out of the station’s parking lot.
“You’ve never been there?” he asked.
“No, I haven’t.” She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, guilt starting to move through her stomach. “I’ve never met the man, either.”
“And how long have Richard and your sister been dating?”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “Over a year now.” She set her jaw and mentally dared him to ask why she hadn’t met him. He must have picked up on her body language—he shut his mouth and they rode in silence until he finally answered her.