The Missing Daughter (Blake Wilder FBI Mystery Thriller Book 17) by Elle Gray

Author:Elle Gray [Gray, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Bella Walker FBI Mystery Series
Publisher: Elle Gray
Published: 2023-04-27T16:00:00+00:00

Liberty Heights Neighborhood, Residence of Billy Chapman; Clayville, IA

We pull to a stop at the curb behind Sheriff Irving’s SUV and climb out, taking in the quiet, well-maintained, tree-lined street. The neighborhood around us is solidly middle class and is filled with nice homes that are well taken care of. The homeowners all have a palpable sense of pride in their small piece of the community. Though not right on top of each other, the houses are spaced out a bit, but they’re not nearly as far apart as they are in Congressman Stills’s neighborhood.

Deputy Chapman’s house is a one-story Craftsman-style home on a brick foundation with pale green clapboard siding and white trim. Three white columns hold a roof over the small porch which has a steep pitch and white gables. It’s expertly landscaped with a neatly trimmed yard, flowering bushes along the front of the house, and a large tree in the front corner of a yard that’s surrounded by a white picket fence. An American flag stands in a bracket on one of the columns beside the stairs that lead to the porch, rippling gently in the slight breeze; and the sound of a dog barking echoes from somewhere down the street.

“Nice neighborhood,” Cora remarks. “It’s quiet.”

Irving nods. “Quite a few of my deputies live in the area,” he says in a gruff voice. “I live just a few streets over myself.”

“Okay, shall we do this?” I ask.

Irving hitches up his belt and shifts on his feet, looking uncomfortable. But he nods.

“Yeah. Might as well get this over with,” he groans.

He opens the small gate in the fence and leads us up the walk. We follow him up the stairs and onto the porch, but before we get to the door, Irving turns and looks at us, as if silently asking for a reprieve. Which, of course, I’m not going to grant him. He seems to get the message, turns back, and raps hard on the door, then steps back. From inside the house, I hear footsteps, and a moment later, it opens up and we find ourselves looking at the dark-haired, green-eyed deputy who’d glared hard at us back in the sheriff’s station the morning we introduced ourselves. He glances at Astra and me, then turns back to Irving and licks his lips nervously.

“Sheriff,” he says, suddenly on guard. “What’s all this?”

“We need to talk, Billy. The agents have some questions for you.”

His eyes shift over to us again, and the look of trepidation on his face deepens. “Questions about what exactly?”

I smile tightly. “Mr. Chapman, may we come in and have a chat?”

His jaw flexes as he clenches his teeth. “Chat about what?”

“Billy, let’s all go in and sit down,” Irving says in a stern but fatherly tone. “We don’t want to do this out here, son.”

Chapman looks at the sheriff like the man betrayed him but relents. He steps back and lets us step past him into the house, then closes the door behind us.

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