Vanished(17)

The four adults in the home had created one hell of a sociology experiment.





9

25 HOURS MISSING

Mason noticed that the number of cars outside the church command center had tripled. Fewer police vehicles, but more plain-looking American-made sedans and SUVs. More federal help. Mason turned his vehicle into the parking lot. The media had set up another camp in the far corner of the church lot, a mass of tents, RVs, and cameras. He drove in the opposite direction, looking for a parking spot that wasn’t too far from the doors.

The FBI had picked a good location for their command center. The lot and church building were huge. There was room for everyone. But what about church services tomorrow?

“The church announced it was cancelling all services tomorrow,” Ava announced beside him, as if reading Mason’s thoughts. “That’s a bit of a hard thing, considering Christmas is next week. It asked its members to stay home and pray for Henley or attend the candlelight vigil downtown at the water tomorrow night.”

“What?” Jake shifted forward from the backseat, sticking his head between the front seats. “What vigil?”

“I don’t know who organized it,” Ava answered. “Possibly the church. Waterfront Park tomorrow at seven.” Her words sped up, her voice rising a bit. Mason understood the hint of emotion in her speech. It hurt to think of Henley missing another thirty-six hours. The longer the girl was gone, the less likely she was to be found alive.

“Maybe they won’t need it,” Jake mumbled.

“We’re all praying for that,” Ava said.

Mason parked and the three of them exited the vehicle and headed toward the church doors. He fought an urge to tell Jake to hold his head up and not slouch. The kid looked like he’d suffered a beating. Emotionally, he had. Mason’s coat pocket vibrated. He glanced at the screen and told Jake and Ava to go ahead. Ava gave him a careful look but nodded and guided Jake inside with her hand at his elbow. Mason watched them walk away, Jake slumping and Ava with her chin up, walking with the purpose and confidence expected from a federal agent. Mason shook his head. Why did he even notice the sloppy and insecure impression Jake was making? That was the last of his priorities.

Mason glared at Schefte’s name on his screen, Ray’s warning from that morning going through his mind.

“Callahan.”

“Mason, it’s Denny. Got a minute?”

“Yep. I heard you found my prints in Josie’s place.” No point in bullshitting around.

“Yeah, there’s no doubt. I went to the lab and made them show me in person. They’re clear as day from the toilet handle and fridge. There’s one from a doorframe that’s not very good.”

“I didn’t touch anything, Denny. You can ask Ray, Morales, and Hunsinger. One of them was with me the entire time.”

“I did talk to them. They said the same. Ray says you were in the kitchen for a moment by yourself, but I assume you didn’t help yourself to any soda from the fridge?”

“Fuck, no. And there was a uniformed officer in there. I was in the fridge on a previous visit, but that was months ago. There shouldn’t be prints there or on the toilet handle. I don’t know how they can be finding my prints.”

“Let’s get you printed again. Maybe the comparison prints are crap.”

Mason wiped his forehead. It was forty-five degrees outside, but he was sweating.

New prints would definitely clear this up.

“What about the cowboy hat sightings? What’s with that? I haven’t been anywhere near that building in months. Inside or out.”

“You know the type of people who hang around that building. I wouldn’t put a lot of weight on their observations.”

Mason frowned. Why was Schefte so quick to downplay the evidence? If he were in Schefte’s shoes, he’d be yelling at him on the phone. “Ray was going to check my calendar for my last visit with Josie. I think it was in September.”

“Yeah, I saw Ray a few minutes ago.” Schefte cleared his throat. “We’d already pulled your hard drive.”

“What?” Mason’s vision tunneled.

“We’re checking your calendar, too.”

“You don’t take my whole computer to look at a calendar. What the hell is going on there?”

Schefte was quiet.

“Do I need a lawyer?” Mason asked. His brain spun like he was drunk. What was happening?

“It wouldn’t hurt to talk to your union   rep,” Schefte answered. “I don’t know about a lawyer. I don’t think that will be necessary.”

A sharp pain shot through Mason’s temple.

“Denny, I don’t have time for this! I’m trying to help my family stay sane while their daughter is missing! My son is so stressed he’s about to cave in on himself.” And so am I.

“I know you’ve got a lot going on. This was a good time to take some time off. Come down and get your prints done again. Then we’ll talk.” Schefte sounded distant. His usual good-buddy tone gone from his voice.

Did they think he killed Josie? Impossible.

Something was screwed up somewhere. Evidence lines were getting crossed.

“Fine,” answered Mason in the same even tone. “I’ll have my rep with me.” He ended the call and slipped the phone in his pocket, feeling as though his support system was being chiseled away. His family was dealing with the worst imaginable horror. Now his job was in jeopardy? He felt like he was being ripped in half. As slowly as possible.

How did his prints show up in that apartment?

Josie. What did you get into?



Ava signed in and led Jake through the command center, appreciating the heat. Outside was crisp and cold. No rain or snow was predicted this week, just near-freezing temperatures.

Was Henley warm?

She put the thought firmly out of her mind. Someone had taken the girl for a purpose. She didn’t like to think what purpose, but whatever it was, she prayed they’d kept her indoors. An image of a small, motionless body hidden deep in the woods flashed through her head.

Stop it!

They would find that girl. This case would end happy. She glanced at Jake, seeing the first sign of life in his eyes as he took in the hustle and bustle of the command center. It was good for him to see. Sitting at home, he probably felt like no one was doing anything. The FBI could tell him over and over that they were searching high and low, but seeing it in action made it believable. Every seat in the space was manned. Various conversations filled the room. People were busy; people were focused.

Jake wiped his eyes.

Ava spotted Special Agent Sanford in a conversation with two other agents at a computer screen and raised a hand at him. He held up one finger. She and Jake stayed put. The boards on the walls were filling up with notes and photos. She spotted a board with about ten large photos of homes, recognizing them instantly. All the homes Henley would have walked past on her way to the bus. Ava had stared at the homes in person, wondering about the people who lived inside.

Was their kidnapper a passerby? Was it intentional or spur-of-the-moment?

At nearly eight in the morning?

Her experience told her it was intentional. Premeditated. A complex plan.

How else did a child vanish from between her house and the bus stop?

Sanford hurried over. “Morning. Ready to talk for a bit?” He directed the question at Jake, who silently nodded. Sanford forced a tired smile. He looked like shit, and Ava wondered when he’d slept last.

“You bring a guardian?” Sanford looked from Jake to Ava with a frown. Even though Jake was eighteen, it would make everyone feel better to know he had an adult with him for an interview. The look on Sanford’s face plainly said he didn’t consider Ava to be that person.

“His dad is outside on a phone call. He’ll be a minute.”

The three stood silently for a moment, eyeing each other.

“Do you have any leads?” Jake asked, and Ava’s heart broke at the teen’s whisper. She’d told him all she knew on the drive over. Her gaze pleaded with Sanford to be gentle with Jake.

“Ah . . . we have a lot we’re following up on. Tips are coming in from the public. We’re looking into each one.”

Jake shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hope on his face.

“And all the specialists made it in last night. We pulled them from a half-dozen states. We’ve got senior special agents in evidence recovery, hostage negotiation, computer forensics, and even some guys from BAU working with us.”

“BAU?” Jake asked. “Like from Silence of the Lambs?”

Annoyance flickered for the fleetest second on Sanford’s face. Ava had no issue with the public’s view of the movie. So what if an agent-in-training was pulled in on a huge serial-killer case? The movie still showed the talent of that department. But other agents didn’t feel the way she did.

“Yes, but without the Hollywood gloss,” Ava answered. “We met one of them yesterday. He was very helpful with some of his insights.”

“How long will all these people be here?” Jake asked.

“As long as we need them,” replied Sanford.

Callahan joined them, nodding at Sanford. “Sorry I’m late.” He rubbed Jake’s shoulder.

Ava picked up a highly annoyed vibe coming off the detective. He seemed distracted. What had happened on his phone call? It couldn’t have to do with the case. He would have immediately brought up anything they needed to know. She had a hunch it was about his time off from his department. Perhaps they were struggling with his abrupt departure.