Chapter 35 â Floor 4: Part 3
âDid anyone enter your garage for the past week?â Mathew asked, looking around the clean space. The garage was large enough for a single vehicle but was being used for storage. There were dozens of boxes stacked in a corner, along with a lawn mower and some toolboxes.
âThe investigators would have been in here, but not since Monday evening.â Albert offered.
âMy son came on Sunday to help me look for Tim. I donât know if he took anything, but I remember we searched all over the house and around the yard. Do you think heâs in danger?â Mary replied, her eyes widening in concern.
âYour son and his family are fine. Weâve taken statements from them. Whatever is taking people hasnât touched them.â Albert reassured her.
âWe should ask the son if he remembers seeing anything. Or if he took something from here.â Mathew suggested, and the Sherrif nodded.
Tim Burnson Jr, or TJ, lived with his wife and daughter on the other side of town. Climbing aboard the police cruiser once more, Alberta pulled out of the driveway and began driving to their new destination.
âSo you think TJ Burnson took something from the garage that may have been responsible for Timâs disappearance?â Albert asked. He had his window rolled down and was smoking a cigarette.
Mathew replied, leaning back in his seat and letting the fresh air keep the smoke away from his face.
âI donât know. It seems like a big coincidence that they happened to buy antiques, and then Tim goes missing.â Mathew reasoned.
âIf that were the case and TJ did take the stuff, why hasnât anything happened to him or his family?â Albert queried.
âIâm not sure. Maybe it needs to be triggered or something. Has there been any disappearances around TJâs part of town?â Mathew asked.
âThe second disappearance was only a few blocks over from his place. It didnât seem important at the time. Arlen isnât that big, and they didnât have any relationship with Tim or his family, so we didnât make the connection.â Albert confessed, tapping his cigarette into a tray to get the ashes off.
âI can understand. Itâs a pretty thin connection.â Mathew agreed.
The rest of the trip passed in silence until they pulled into TJ Burnsonâs driveway. A one-story bungalow, its lawn was covered in childrenâs toys. There were kids playing in the yard, with TJâs wife sitting on the front step watching them.
She stood as soon as she saw the police cruiser. Opening the door, she shouted for her husband inside.
TJ Burnson was a large man with a big beer belly and a beard. He was wearing a pair of khaki pants and a button-up shirt. Meeting them by the driveway, Albert shook his hand and introduced him to Mathew.
âAny word on my father?â TJ asked eagerly. He looked disappointed when Albert shook his head.
âNothing yet, but we think we have a lead. Did you find anything in your fatherâs garage when you were there on Sunday?â Albert inquired. TJâs face scrunched up into a confused expression as he answered.
âIn their garage? No, nothing.â TJ said, and Albert looked disappointed.
âYou didnât see any antiques or an old travel trunk?â Mathew pressed, and TJ shook his head.
âNo, there wasnât anything like that there. I would remember. We looked all over the house and yard for my Father. I thought he had just wandered outside or something, a senior moment, you know? I didnât think it was that serious until hours went by, and he didnât come home.â TJ explained.
âDid you take anything from the house?â Mathew asked, and this time, TJ nodded.
âThere were some old bags of garbage that mom asked me to take out when I left that night. They were in the garage. I was going to put them in their bin, but it was full, so I brought them back here and put them on the curb with mine.â TJ said, shrugging.
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âWait, you took something from the garage? What did the bags look like?â Mathew asked eagerly, and even Albert was looking at TJ like he had the answer to their mystery.
âThey were black garbage bags. I didnât look in them. The garbage truck took them away on Monday.â TJ replied, not understanding what the big deal was. What did garbage bags have to do with his father going missing?
âWait, you donât think my fatherâs body was in those bags?!â TJ exclaimed, and Albert shook his head.
âNo, of course not. You wouldnât have been able to lift them, and we would have seen evidence all over that house. Your father wasnât in those bags, TJ.â Albert reassured him while giving Mathew a pointed look.
âI think we should go to see where the next disappearance occurred.â Albert said. Once they were back in the car and moving, they discussed what they had just learned.
âSo, instead of antiques, TJ took out a few garbage bags. Do you think the antiques were inside them?â Albert asked, and Mathew shrugged.
âIâm not sure. Was the second victim connected to TJ and his family in any way? Or did they work in garbage collection?â Mathew asked.
âI wouldnât trust the Alfredsons with my garbage, let alone a job working with a truck. They would rob you blind. Iâve had dozens of reports of thefts in the area, and most of them match their descriptions.â Albert explained.
âAnd theyâve both gone missing?â Mathew asked, remembering the name from the board. A middle-aged man and woman, both looking hard and rough. The pictures of the couple were from mugshots.
âHmm, since Monday. Their oldest reported it and said they were gone when he got home that morning. We would have suspected him of having something to do with it, but he was at a house party all night. We got the noise complaints to confirm it. It wasnât hard to confirm his alibi.â
âSo they disappeared either Sunday night or Monday morning.â Mathew remarked, and Albert nodded.
âMaybe they picked something up from TJâs place or from the flea market.â Mathew finished.
The Alfredsons lived in a small, run-down house on the edge of Arlen. The paint was peeling on its walls, its roofing shingles looked faded and in need of replacement, and the lawn looked like it hadnât been mowed in months, with large brown patches and weeds coming up through the concrete walkway.
The entire house looked neglected.
Pulling into the drive, Mathew and Albert came to the front door and knocked on the screen door. In a few moments, a teenager answered them. Wearing a white shirt and black pants, he looked to be about fifteen or sixteen.
Shading his eyes against the bright Texas sunlight, he stared at the pair of them. He made no move to let them in or speak first.
âShaun, This is Mr. Larson. Weâre here to ask you some questions about your parents.â Albert started, and Shaun nodded.
âStill havenât found them? I told you theyâre probably dead in a ditch somewhere. I donât know why youâre bothering even looking.â Shaun replied, and Mathew was shocked that their own son would say that about his parents.
âDid your parents grab anything from TJ Burnsonâs house or from the flea market?â Albert asked, ignoring the comment about the Alfredsons.
âNo.â Shaun said with a shrug of his shoulders.
âYouâre sure? This is important.â Mathew interrupted.
âNo, they didnât steal anything from the Burnsons or the flea market. Whose been tattling?â Shaun replied, frowning.
âNo one. We think your parents may have picked up something from the Burnsons on Sunday night or Monday morning. Iâll ask again, and we arenât looking to get anyone in trouble. Did your parents get anything from TJs or the flea market on Sunday?â Albert asked carefully.
Shuan shifted on his feet, and Mathew caught on that the teen was uncomfortable.
âThis could make all the difference. I swear that you wonât get into trouble if they or you did something. Weâre just trying to find them. If you have something to tell us, nowâs your chance. If we find out later, immunity is off the table.â Mathew explained.
Shaun was silent for a moment, chewing on his fingernail nervously before letting out a huff of air.
âLook, they were just throwing that stuff out anyway. Once it's on the sidewalk, it's trash and fair game. I didnât steal anything.â Shaun explained, and Albert nodded.
âAlright. We understand Shaun. Why donât you slow down and tell us what happened.â Albert asked calmly.
âI was walking home Sunday to get changed for the party. I went past TJ Burnson's place, and he had all this stuff on the sidewalk. No one was around, and they were dumping it, so I took a look to see if there was something I could sell for a couple of bucks. I sometimes fix things and drop them off at the flea market.â Shaun explained.
âAnd what did you find?â
âThere was a trunk, like luggage with some old junk in it. I figured people love that kind of crap, so I lugged it home. I was going to dig through it the next day, after the party, but it was gone when I got home.â Shaun finished.
âAny idea what happened to it?â Mathew asked.
Shaun shook his head.
âI figured Mom and Dad took it, or Uncle Jimmy. He comes by sometimes looking for money. He might have grabbed it. Like I said, it was gone the next morning, and so were Mom and Dad.â
After thanking the teen, Mathew and Albert walked back to the car as the screen door slammed behind them.
âSo, he takes a trunk full of antiques from TJ's place, and his parents go missing a little while later.â Mathew observed as they stood next to the car.
âBut TJ said that it was nothing but garbage bags.â Albert replied, shaking his head.
âCould he have been lying?â Mathew asked.
âMaybe, but why? Why would he bother lying about throwing away a trunk of antiques? It doesnât make any sense.â The sheriff responded.
âDo you know this âUncle Jimmyâ that Shuan was talking about? Could he have taken those items to the next victim?â Mathew asked, and Albert nodded.
âItâs certainly possible. The next victim owns a pawn shop.â