Key West Gone into the Night Elizabeth Hilleren (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud txt) 📖

His face softened. “You do the same for me,” he said softly.

“Come on, let’s go back and at least get the setup of a murder story going. I’ll get more about this from Sharkey,” Mckenzie said, “or know the reason why.”

“Will you take, ‘It’s none of your business’ for an answer?”

“No. That never works for me.”

“I was afraid of that.  Okay then, we’ll take a ride. I have something to show you.”

Mckenzie’s eye’s sharpened down to suspicious slits. “Where?”

“No talking.  Go to work while I drive.”

“You.”

*    *    *

Sharkey entered the Medical Examiner’s office and saw Becky heading for exam one.

“Becky,” he called.

“Sharkey, glad you’re here,” Becky said.  “I think you will want to know this.” She pushed through the door with her back and held it open for Sharkey.

“Sharkey,” Frank said, “I ran the fingerprints and came up with nothing so she’s not in the system. I’ll check for a DNA match too but that could take a while.  I’ll try to fast track it. But don’t expect much from that.”

“I didn’t find anything unexpected in the autopsy aside from the superficial wounds on her knees and palms of her hands.”

Becky added, “She didn’t have a wedding ring and no white area where the ring had been. But a woman like this, someone must be missing her.”

“I’ll get a picture out to the hotels, B&Bs and motels,” said Sharkey.

“Good. I’ll call if I find out anything else.”

Sharkey returned to the station, sprinted up the staircase, and sat down at his desk to call the public outreach department. That was Debbie Anderson who was on desk duty until she recovered from an accident on bicycle patrol.

She appeared at the door to their office. Her arm was still in a sling. “Yeah, I know. At least I didn’t fall off the damn horse.  You have a photo of the victim?”

“Yeah, here. So far, she’s a Jane Doe.  We suspect she’s a tourist,” Sharkey said.

She looked at the photo and said, “I’ll be right back. I’ll make her more natural looking. You look too dead and it freaks people out and they don’t really look at the photo.”

Thirty minutes later she returned with the results.

“You made her look good,” Sharkey said.

“Hope we find out who she is. I hate the thought of someone being a Jane Doe.”

“Me too,” Sharkey said.

Officer Debbie Anderson sent a police alert memo to all the hotels, motels, B&B’s and resorts asking if this person was registered with them.

*    *    *

Around three that afternoon a call came in from the Sands Inn Motel up near the Atlantic side.

“Detective Sharkey, we have the manager of the Sands Inn Motel. She thinks your Jane Doe was staying with them.”

“Patch her through,” Sharkey said.

“Detective Sharkey, this is Shirley Reiner. I’m the manager of the Sands Inn Motel.  I saw your picture alert. Mrs. Susan Abbott is registered with us.  That picture is strange looking, but it’s her, I’m sure.”

“I’ll be right over, and I would like to look at her room. Is her car still there?”

“Yes, a green Prius.  It’s parked two down from her room.”

“Thanks, we’ll be there in a few minutes. Please don’t disturb the room.”

“No problem.  There’s a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. It hasn’t been cleaned yet.”

Sharkey hung up.  “Harris, she’s Susan Abbott.  We found the motel that our lady was staying in. Let’s roll.”

Harris put down the sandwich he was about to bite into, rewrapped it, and followed Sharkey out the door.

Sharkey and Harris headed straight for the office where a red-headed woman stood waiting. She waved and called out, “Detectives.  I have the key here.” She headed for the room and using her key, unlocked the door.  As she prepared to open the door she asked, “What about the kids?”

Sharkey looked at Harris realizing the case had just pivoted.  “Kids?”

“Yeah, she has a young boy about six and a baby about three months. Darling kids, so cute.”

Sharkey and Harris stepped into the room.  There was a faint smell of baby powder. The bed was unmade.

Sharkey looked in the bathroom and saw a diaper in the garbage can. Harris found a toy truck and an action figure on a chair.

“Where the hell are the kids?” Harris grumbled.

Sharkey opened the suitcase on the end of the dresser. He looked through the clothes and personal items. He found a leather paper holder and opened it up.

“What have we got here? There’s a copy of a birth certificate for the baby. The mother’s name is Susan Abbott. That’s a match to the renter of the room. The father is listed as Javier Trujillo.”

Sharkey looked at Harris. “Okay, let’s get the information on Susan Abbott. I want an APB out for Javier Trujillo. Get Officer Anderson to check the hotels and B and B’s for him.  We have a person of interest.”

“You got it, Boss,” Harris said, flipping closed his notebook.

When the forensic team arrived Sharkey told them, “look for evidence that doesn’t match. We have the possible abduction of two young children.”

*    *    *

 “I need more information,” Mckenzie said as she pounded away on her keyboard for the article about the Government Road dead woman.

“You’ve been working on that for an hour,” Connor said. “You don’t have that much to say.  Call Sharkey and get what you need. Your ace detective must have found something more by now.”

She shoved her chair away from the computer and rolled over to her phone.

“I need to speak with Detective Sharkey,” she said sharply.

“Use a little finesse,” Connor suggested.

She glared at Connor then spoke in her normal voice to Sharkey.

“Sharkey, look, this is Mckenzie Jones, reporter for the Eye on Key West…”

Sharkey chuckled. “Yes, Miss