Cop Hunch

Part 2

A half hour later, Tom and Cassy were pulling into the driveway of the Johnson household. The house was located on the outskirts of the city, in a quiet, remote residential neighborhood, at the end of a cul-de-sac. The nearest house was at least a block away. Medium sized trees and scrub grass separated the lots between the houses, but the lawn of the Johnson's home was well-manicured. Tom parked the car in the front drive. As he and Cassy exited the vehicle, she flashed her badge at the officer standing next to the front door of the house. "Anything new?" Tom asked as he walked past the officer and into the foyer of the home.

"Nothing. No signs of a struggle. We've talked to the neighbors, they didn't see anything unusual. Davis from the lab is in the garage right now, but I don't think he's come up with anything either," the officer returned to his patrol car which was parked next to Tom's Mustang in the driveway.

A petite woman approached the detectives from a living room which was to the left of the foyer. The woman was an attractive brunette in her mid-forties. Her red-rimmed eyes revealed that she had been crying. Cassy smiled at the woman and held her hand out to greet her. "Mrs. Johnson?"

The woman nodded and shook Cassy's hand with a weak grip. "I'm Carol Johnson. Are you here to help find my husband?" The woman's voice was quietly emotional.

"I'm Sgt. Cassandra St. John. This is my partner, Sgt. Tom Ryan. We're the detectives assigned to your husband's case." Cassy's response was equally quiet, not wanting to overwhelm the woman.

Tom stepped from behind Cassy and shook the woman's hand. "Mrs. Johnson, we need to ask you some questions about your husband. Is there some place we can talk?"

"Let's go to the living room. The woman turned back to the room she had just vacated. Tom looked around the house and found that it was an older home, not like the typical Palm Beach elite homes that he was accustomed to. This home had a lived-in look, with comfortable warm colors. The living room had bookshelves aligning one wall, filled with law books and classics. Mrs. Johnson sat on a leather couch. She motioned for Tom and Cassy to take the two chairs which were on the opposite side of the coffee table.

As soon as the woman sat down, she lost control of her emotions. Tears welled up in her eyes. She dabbed at the corners with a well-worn tissue. "I just can't imagine what's happened to Derrick."

"The report that we read said that Mr. Johnson left the house at 8:00 last night, is that right?" Cassy asked the distraught woman.

"Yes. We had been home all day. Derrick likes to putter in the garden on the weekends. At about 7:30 he told me he had to go to a quick meeting at the office. Something about reports which needed to be completed for a board meeting."

"What exactly does your husband do?" Cassy remembered that the Councilman had resigned his position earlier that year, citing job-related stress as the reason. She hadn't heard a lot about him since.

"My husband decided to return to his previous line of work. He's a financial advisor. He also sits on the boards of some local companies," she responded with a hint of pride in her voice.

Tom then spoke up, "Mrs. Johnson, did you actually see your husband leave for the meeting?" When the woman looked confused by the question, Tom rephrased, "Did you actually see your husband leave in the car?"

"No, I was in our bedroom when he left. I was getting ready for my evening bath. These types of meetings aren't unusual. They are popping up all the time."

"Who was he meeting with?" Cassy queried.

"I'm not really sure. I presumed he was meeting with Bob Ravenwood, his assistant. But I talked to Bob this morning. He said that he hadn't heard from Derrick since Friday."

"How long has your husband known Mr. Ravenwood?" Cassy followed.

"He's worked for Derrick for about six months now." The woman looked from Cassy to Tom. "You don't think Bob had anything to do with this do you?"

"No, Mrs. Johnson," Tom responded quickly. "We just have to ask these questions to understand your husband's habits and patterns. We need to know about his daily routine, his friends and associates. We don't mean to upset you, but we need to know your husband as well as you do right now."

"I know…I understand."

"Did you ever hear your husband come home after his meeting?" Tom pressed.

"No. I had gone to bed at about 10:00. I was having some trouble sleeping so I took some sleeping pills. I think I fell asleep at about 11:00. He wasn't home yet. I got up this morning at about 8:00. He wasn't in bed. I assumed that he must have come to bed late last night and left early in the morning. Sometimes he does that…he can be as quiet as a mouse if he wants to. Since I had taken the pills, I wasn't surprised that I didn't hear him."

Cassy spoke up, "Mrs. Johnson, does your husband have any close friends we can talk to about this…friends that might be of some help?"

"Oh my, yes. In fact, it would probably be easier for me to give you his address book." She walked over to the telephone on the sofa table and picked up a brown leather address book on the corner. She handed it to Cassy. "I started to call some of our friends this morning, hoping they might have talked to Derrick. But no one had seen or heard from him." Tears began to flow again, "I was so worried that I decided to call the police." She dried her eyes.

"Has there been anything unusual which has happened lately…anything out of the ordinary or anything that your husband has been upset about." Tom had left his chair and was looking at framed pictures displayed on a bookshelf. He saw one of Derrick Johnson, his wife and another woman standing in the middle of a field with a large placard sign bearing the words "New Homes for the Future by Harper Construction" behind them.

"My husband has a few investment projects he's involved with, but nothing out of the ordinary."

"Is this one of them." Tom picked up the picture and showed it to the woman.

"Yes, it is. Pamela Harper, the woman next to me, approached my husband about investing in a new residential development just north of here. We decided to build the first home there..." her voice trailed off as tears began to form again.

Cassy, not wanting to upset the woman further, stood "Mrs. Johnson, I'm going to leave my card in case you think of anything else that might help. Your phone has been tapped and all calls will be monitored from the police station. If you receive any ransom demands by phone, we'll know immediately. If anything comes to you by any other source, call us as soon as possible. An officer will stay here as long as you like to make sure that you're okay."

"Thank you…please find my husband," the woman cried softly.

Tom followed Cassy to the door. On a hunch, he turned to the woman and asked, "Mrs. Johnson, is it possible your husband would have gone to your new home last night?"

She looked surprised by the question. "I can't see why he would. We were just out there on Saturday. The house isn't even close to being finished." Besides, how would he have gone there…his car was in the garage? It's too far to walk."

"Do you mind giving us directions to the house. I'd like to talk to Pamela Harper to see if she has heard from your husband," Tom smiled at the woman.

She grabbed for the pen and paper next to the phone and quickly wrote instructions to the housing development. "The development is only a couple of miles to the north, but it's pretty easy to miss the turn off to the work site. There isn't a lot out there as far as landmarks are concerned. Our lot sits about a mile off the highway." She handed the piece of paper to Tom. He looked at her directions and nodded.

"Thank you, Ma'am. We'll give you a call as soon as we find out something." As soon as Mrs. Johnson had shut the door, Tom turned to see that Cassy had already left the house and was walking towards the three-car garage.

Mike Davis from the lab approached the duo. "So what do you have for us?" Cassy spoke first.

"Not a lot. There are no signs of struggle or violence. The only thing we found was mud in the garage…partial tire tracks. Looks like they came from the tires of a large vehicle, a truck maybe."

Tom looked at the vehicles in the garage, as Davis continued, "The Johnson's drive a Mercedes and a Lexus. There's nothing in the garage which would account for the tire treads. I asked the wife about it. She said she didn't know where the tracks had come from and that no one had visited for the past few days. Said they didn't use that side of the garage very often. She guessed that some workers from a construction site north of town had been to the house last week and tracked it in. There wasn't enough there to get a clear tire tread print. We found more of the mud in the drive and street, but unfortunately, with all the cars pulling in and out of the drive this morning, there's nothing to use." Davis shrugged, "If we come up with anything I'll give you a call." He returned to the garage without saying more. Tom and Cassy followed, but found nothing in the garage to spark their interest.

As soon as they were back in the Mustang, Cassy turned to her partner. "Well, what do you think?"

Tom looked at Mrs. Johnson's hastily written instructions in his hands, "I'm not sure. The whole thing is a little strange. Her husband leaves for a meeting, but she doesn't actually hear him leave the house. She doesn't get concerned when she doesn't hear him return or leave for work the next morning. She never notices that his car is still in the garage…"

Cassy cut him off, "I don't see anything strange about it. She'd taken sleeping pills. Besides, when we were married there were times that I'd go for days without seeing you. We were working in different divisions on different shifts. Infact, we were sleeping in the same bed, but always alone," Cassy reminded her ex-husband.

"Yeah, I suppose it's possible…" his voice trailed off. He folded up the map and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

"Well, I say we start with Bob Ravenwood. Confirm whether Johnson made it to his meeting," Cassy decided.

"Do you mind splitting up?" Tom asked.

Suspicious of Tom's motives, Cassy responded with a hesitant, "Why?"

"I want to go out to the housing site. Talk to that woman, Pamela Harper," Tom stated simply.

"Hunch?" Cassy grinned.

"No…well, not really. I just want to check it out." Tom looked somewhat guilty. He new what Cassy's attitude was about hunches…she didn't like them…they didn't fit on a chart.

"Fine, no problem. I can talk to Ravenwood by myself. Drop me off at my car and then I'll meet you back at the station later." She wasn't surprised by Tom's desire to follow a hunch. He would rather work on instinct than facts and logic any day. Sometimes she thought he did it on purpose, just to irritate her. Oh well, at least I know that Harry agrees with me on this "hunch" crap. He'll keep Tom in line.

Within a half-hour, Tom had pulled into the police station parking lot and parked next to Cassy's Porsche. He looked at his watch, "Well, I guess I'll see you in a couple of hours." Cassy glanced at her's. It was already 2:30. She had a feeling it was going to be a late night.

"Later," Cassy responded. She got out of the Mustang and into her car.

Looking in his rear view mirror as he pulled away, Tom saw the Porsche pulling out of the lot behind him. At the stop sign, he turned right and Cassy turned left.