Page 30 of Not Our Daughter

“You have security cameras?” Davis asked him.

He bunched up his face, shook his head. “Nah, this ain’t the dang Hyatt of storage properties, fellas. We’re low-tech here. But I can keep the rent fair because of it.”

Burns and Davis shared an annoyed glance.Of course!

Burns looked back at Jethro Gilley. “A guy named Cole Shipley rent here?”

Gilley pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, unwrapped it. “Printed this out after I first got here. Wanted to see if I could tell if something had been stolen.” He scanned the list. “Yeah, he’s been renting a slip in the back.”

“Take us to it.”

“All right.”

They followed Gilley through the property toward the back. Boats, RVs, and other vehicles were lined up back-to-back throughout, most protected under metal roofs.

Reaching the end, Gilley pointed toward an empty slip. “Right here.”

If Cole Shipley had kept a vehicle here, it was now gone.

“For how long has he been a renter?” Burns asked Gilley.

“A longtimer. Ten years.”

“So you know him?” Davis said.

“Nah. My boy mostly runs this place. He might. I only come here occasionally.”

“Do you have any record of what he was storing here?” Burns asked.

Gilley shook his head again. “We don’t pay no attention to that.”

Burns blew out forcefully, frustrated. “Let me ask you something, Jethro. Why the hell would Cole Shipley smash through the front gate if he’s a renter? Don’t you give out codes or something?”

“Hell if I know,” Gilley said, spitting on the ground. “Gonna cost me a dang fortune to have that gate replaced. Hope this Shipley guy has good insurance.”

“Don’t count on it,” Davis mentioned.

Burns said, “I need you to get your son over here.”

“Why?” Gilley asked.

“He might remember Shipley and know what was in this parking slip.”

“Doubtful. He ain’t the brightest.”

“Still, call him. We need to talk to him ASAP.”

“I done been trying to call him. He ain’t answering. I talked to his girlfriend, though. She said he went over to Tin Cup earlier to play pool. Probably passed out drunk somewhere already. Boy is almost thirty, and I can’t get him to grow up.”

Burns turned to Officer Marshall. “We need to find him right away.”

“Come with me, Mr. Gilley,” said the officer. “Let’s see what we can figure out.”

Burns walked into the empty slip. There were no lights. When his forensic crew showed up in a few minutes, he would have them examine tire tracks and any other ground markings to see if they could sort out a particular type of vehicle. Had Lisa Shipley been here on her own with only her daughter? Or had they somehow rallied with Cole and all come over here together?

Either way, he didn’t like it. One or all of them now had up to a two-hour head start in an unidentified vehicle. That was a major problem. However, someone still had to drive the vehicle. Hard to drive and hide at the same time. And the police had had every exit from the valley blocked by officers with high-resolution photos of the Shipleys for the past two hours. He could only hope that was enough to keep them confined to the local area.

Burns shined the flashlight on his phone around the parking slip. He noticed a pile of something on the dirt and bent down to take a better look. Then he cursed.

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