Page 119 of What She Saw
“Think any could still be alive?”
It had been more than ten days. Yes, they could be alive, but his doubts grew each day. “I don’t know.”
“If you’re wrong, we both are going to get roasted.”
He’d been hung out to dry before. “It’s a simple search. No charges have been made.”
“Don’t pull in the state police yet,” the mayor said.
“It’ll be Paxton and me.”
“And Paxton can keep his mouth shut? That boy ran his mouth when he was a kid.”
“He won’t talk. I don’t tolerate any leaks.”
“Okay. When are you going to do it?”
“As soon as we have an open window.”
The mayor shook his head. “I hope you’re wrong.”
“I hope that I’m not. We have four missing women and a community that’s getting impatient. An arrest would help calm nerves.”
“Call me when it’s done.”
The mayor was right. Colton was a con artist and a shoddy promoter, but that didn’t make him a killer.
Taggart had nothing solid on Rafe Colton other than a gut feeling that he was tangled up in the girls’ disappearance.
He’d watched Colton’s house for eight nights, sitting in the dark. Colton usually arrived home about 10:00 p.m., only to leave two hours later.
On the first night Colton was on the move, Taggart had followed him to a ramshackle convenience store. Taggart had sat outside andwaited almost thirty minutes before Colton reappeared with a six-pack of beer and a plastic bag filled with VHS tapes.
The next day, Taggart had returned to the store and asked the clerk to tell him what Colton had rented. Twenty bucks later, he’d learned the videos Colton liked to rent were the hardcore kind. Kink. BDSM. Forced sex. Taggart had rented a few himself, wanting to know how Colton thought. It wasn’t his first porno, but he’d never liked the added violence.
Taggart got his search warrant quickly.
He knew Colton’s pattern well enough to guess he’d leave his home by 1:00 in the afternoon. When he and Paxton had arrived on the property, Colton’s truck was gone.
Taggart pulled his Crown Vic around the house, so it wasn’t visible at first glance from the street. Out of the car, he surveyed the tall grass surrounding the house and a small barn out back.
“What are we looking for?” Paxton asked.
“Anything tying him to the missing women.”
“Where can we look?”
“Open surfaces. But if you have a gut feeling about something, let me know.”
Taggart strode toward the back door. The house was a rental, and Briggs had gotten Taggart a spare set of keys to the house. He shoved the key in the lock and twisted. The dead bolt opened.
They entered the residence. The shades were pulled, and the house was bathed in shadows. It smelled of pot and beer. Music posters decorated the walls. Woodstock. Rolling Stones. Bad Company.
“You stay in the living room,” Taggart said. “I’ll check the bedroom.”
“Will do.” Paxton moved, his body tense, as if he expected to get caught.
Taggart entered the bedroom. Colton had a large bed with a headboard and posts. The spread was smooth and the pillows in place. Across from the bed was a dresser, and on it sat a television and a VCR.He pressed the eject button on the machine and a movie popped out.Bondage Babes.
