Page 51 of Peak Suspicion
Trisha lay back on the grass, both arms wrapped around Noah. “Shhh,” she said, rocking him back and forth. “You’re safe now. Mama’s got you.”
They lay there several minutes. Riley joined them, both children clinging to her, all three of them crying. Trisha could feel a knot rising on her forehead where the scooter had hit her. Slowly, she sat up and, the children still clinging to her, made her way inside. She found her phone and picked it up. The woman from the insurance company was still talking, apparently oblivious to Trisha’s absence.
“I’ll have to call you back,” Trisha said, and ended the call. She dialed 911. “A man just tried to kidnap my son,” she told the operator who answered.
Tuesday afternoon, Travis Walkerstudied the man across from him in the modest living room. Mitch Anders was a stocky, clean-cut man in his early thirties with blond hair andblue eyes. He looked nervous, but most people would under the circumstances, being questioned by law enforcement again so soon after his release from jail.
“Someone tried to snatch a little boy from the yard in front of his house yesterday afternoon,” Travis said. “The car the man was driving matches the description of your car.”
“There are a lot of white SUVs in this county,” Mitch said.
“Where were you yesterday afternoon between four thirty and six thirty?” Travis asked.
“I was at my girlfriend’s house.”
“Who is your girlfriend?”
“Shayla Green.”
“Address?”
“Twelve-fourteen Wild Rose.”
Two blocks from the Isbell house. “Was your car there?”
“No. Shayla picked me up this morning and she drove to her house.”
“Was your father at home?”
“Probably. He doesn’t go many places.”
“Where is your dad now?”
“He’s in his room. Taking a nap.”
“Could he have driven your car?”
“Dad has an old red Jeep he drives. He doesn’t like my SUV. He says it’s too hard for him to get in and out of. You’ve seen him, Sheriff. He can hardly walk. How could he snatch a kid?”
“Is there anyone else who would drive your car?” Travis asked.
“No. Why would they?”
“We talked to your neighbor. She’s sure your car wasn’t in your driveway that afternoon.”
“It was.”
Travis glanced out the window. He could see the white Toyota from here. “Can we take a look at the car?”
“I guess.”
Travis and his brother, Gage, followed Mitch out to the car. It shone in the afternoon sun, and smelled like wax. Gage opened the passenger door and looked inside. “It’s been cleaned recently,” he said. “It’s spotless.”
Mitch frowned. “It wasn’t like that this morning.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” He walked around to the driver’s side and opened the door, stuck his head in and sniffed.
