Page 48 of The Fragile Ones
She shrugged, not paying close attention to them.
“The Diamond Mines,History of the Boston Tea Party, andThe Disappearing Polar Bears.”
Katie didn’t understand what the titles meant. “And?”
“The film crew who you babysat filmed all of these.”
“You mean those guys with Wild Oats Productions?”
“Yes. I recognize the DVDs of their work from when I did a brief background on them.”
Katie was shocked. “What would their documentaries be doing here?”
“Unlike us, people who have spare timedowatch films and documentaries.”
Sissy had walked into the apartment. “Yeah, he always had those boring docu-films blaring in the background, day and night.”
“What about Whitney Mayfield?”
“What about him? Sure, he watched them too. I think it was him that got Darren into them.”
Katie turned to Sissy. “Did you ever see the Mayfield girls over here with their dad?”
“Um, a couple of times, I think, when they were really little.”
Katie took a tour of the rest of the apartment looking for any personal items that would indicate where Darren had gone. The kitchen was mostly empty, though the refrigerator still had old food inside. The heavy cleaner had been poured down the drain and in the kitchen trash can. Several mouse traps were scattered on the floor.
Katie went into the bedroom where a bed frame remained without a mattress. The closet was a graveyard of empty wire hangers. It was clear that he had left in a hurry, taking only what he needed and wanted.
“Sissy, what kind of car does Darren drive?”
“One of those big trucks with enormous wheels, a monster of a truck. Black with that extra chrome stuff. He had to park it across the street because it wouldn’t fit into our designated parking spots.”
“So, he could have moved everything he could fit in there himself…” said Katie. “Everything else, he left behind.” She pondered. “I wonder if he missed anything?”
“Let’s see what we can find out…” said McGaven.
Both Katie and McGaven spent twenty minutes combing the apartment, but found nothing more.
“What do you think?” he said.
“I think we should take all of the DVDs and documentaries,” she said. “It’s just too…coincidental, that someone of interest in the Mayfield homicides has films from the same crew that just came to our town.”
“Agreed.” McGaven pulled some evidence bags from his pocket and filled them with DVDs, stooping to pick up a slip of paper that fell from the sleeve of one. “Look, it says ‘Property of W. Mayfield.’”
Katie looked at it to confirm. Turning to the old woman, she said, “Sissy, is there anything else you can tell us about Darren Rodriguez?”
“Like what?”
“Like anythingyou remember about him. Strange. Unusual. Anything you’ve seen that would stand out in your mind.” Katie watched the woman think hard, and waited.
“Darren and Whit always seemed to be working on something.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like they were always plotting something…that no one else knew about. It was weird if you ask me, that’s all.” Petting the cat, she continued, “What’s that they say? Thick as thieves.”
“Something like that,” said Katie. To McGaven, she said, “Call in for an APB for Darren Rodriguez and get his vehicle license number on that black truck. Find out if he has a warrant. We need to talk to him as soon as possible.”
