Cut and Run

by Allison Brennan

  They knocked on the door and a very pregnant woman answered. “Hello?”

  “Jill Young?”

  “Yes?”

  Lucy and Nate identified themselves and showed their badges. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Of course. What’s this about?”

  “The Albright family.”

  Her face fell and she opened the door for them to enter.

  She waddled over to a chair and sat down. “Sorry, my feet are swollen and I can’t wait to pop. This little gal was a surprise and trust me—it’s a lot harder to be pregnant at forty than it was when I was in my twenties.”

  “When are you due?” Lucy asked.

  “Christmas Day, but my doctor is thinking about inducing two weeks early. We’ll make the decision at my next appointment provided the baby is on track.”

  Lucy didn’t want to distress a pregnant woman, but she couldn’t lie about the situation, either.

  “Family has been notified, and it’ll be released to the media tonight, so I regret to inform you that the Albright family has been found dead. They died within weeks of their disappearance.”

  “Dear Lord, I’m so sorry,” she said. “That’s awful—I just knew something bad had happened to them. People don’t just disappear like that.”

  “You spoke to the police shortly after they went missing and said that Ricky had left your house at six that Friday evening. It’s very possible that you and your children were the last to see him alive. However—and this hasn’t been released, other than to the family—his is the only body we haven’t found.”

  Jill put her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. “How am I going to tell the kids?”

  Lucy didn’t envy her.

  “What happened?” Jill continued. “Did they have an accident? The police said they left the country. I have family in Mexico. Sure, parts are dangerous, but Glen and Denise wouldn’t go to those areas.”

  “Their bodies were found locally. About ten miles from their home as the crow flies.”

  “I don’t understand. What happened?” she repeated.

  “They were murdered.”

  She closed her eyes again, took a deep breath. Opened them. “How can I help?”

  “Did Ricky say anything to you that day? Anything you remember that sounded strange at the time, or in hindsight?”

  “It was three years ago, I don’t remember anything specific. If I had, I would have told the police when they first came to talk to us.”

  “I’m sure you would have, and we have their notes, but anything you can tell us about Ricky and his family would help us.”

  Jill said, “I want to help, but I don’t know what to say, really. Ricky was here all the time. He, Joe, and Ginny were inseparable, and he was a good kid. Very polite, smart. Joe—my son—he would much prefer to play than do homework. Ricky was a good student, he more than anyone could get Joe to focus for thirty minutes to finish whatever project they were doing, then they would play. The three of them—they’d been friends since first grade, when we moved here. They rode their bikes to school together, and he was here almost every afternoon. If Ricky had a fault, it was being late. Time was more a suggestion to him.” She smiled sadly at the memory. “Half the time his mom or dad would be calling over here for him because he forgot a dentist appointment or it was past dinner. All I really remember about that day was that it was six and I called out to the tree house that it was six and did Ricky want to stay for dinner. He ran in, said he couldn’t, that he was late getting home. I told him to go ahead and I’d call his parents and tell them he was on the way.”

  “Who did you speak to?”

  “No one. I called the house phone, no one answered, and I left a message on their answering machine.”

  “And you’re certain it was six in the evening.”

  “Yes—a few minutes after six, in fact. JJ, my husband, owns an auto repair shop in town and he’d opened a second storefront in Boerne, which is thirty minutes from here. Thursdays and Fridays—at least back then—he worked extra hours to get the new place off the ground. He would always call me when he was leaving so I’d know when to expect him, and I looked at the clock. It was after six on the microwave. I saw Ricky’s backpack on the kitchen table and realized he was still here. Called him, he rushed in, grabbed his backpack, and ran off. Not more than five minutes after I called him out of the tree house.”

  That was consistent with the report from three years ago, so Chavez’s theory that the timing was fluid and they didn’t remember exactly when Ricky left was not correct. While it had been three years, the family had been interviewed shortly after the Albrights went missing, so likely they remembered the details.

  “Did you know the family well?” Lucy said.

  “I talked to Denise often, but always about the kids. Sleepovers and that sort of thing. I’ve of course met Glen and Ricky’s older sisters, and Becky babysat on occasion—she was the younger girl, but much more responsible, in my opinion. I never thought twice about leaving the kids with her.”

  “Did you socialize outside of the kids?”

  She shook her head. “Other than Ricky, we didn’t have a lot in common. I’m a stay-at-home mom but do a lot of volunteer work, mostly through our church or the VA. I wanted a large family, but we had trouble conceiving, and the pregnancy with the twins was very difficult. I didn’t think I would be able to have more kids, and so when this girl came along I was surprised. A happy surprise.” She rubbed her stomach.

  “That doesn’t really answer my question,” Lucy said.

  “We didn’t have a lot in common,” she repeated. “Nothing. I always had the feeling Denise looked down on me for not going to college and choosing to stay home. Early in our marriage we moved a lot—JJ was in the Army, so we lived on base wherever he was stationed. The twins were born at Fort Buchanan, in Puerto Rico. That was the fourth base we lived on. When they were three, we moved to Fort Hood. He was deployed for eighteen months, and then shortly after chose not to reenlist, and we moved here. He’d given the Army twelve years and felt it was time for a new chapter.

  “I take classes here and there when I’m interested in something, but I never felt I needed to spend the money on an advanced education when all I really wanted was to make a nice home for my family and help people through my church. I don’t think Denise respected my choices. So no, we didn’t socialize.”

  “We were hoping that we could talk to Joe and Ginny. Ricky might have said something to them about what was going on with his family.”

  “The police told us that Denise embezzled money from one of her clients and left the country. Are you saying that didn’t happen?”

  “No, but no one has seen the family since that Friday, so we need to look at the investigation with fresh eyes and confirm all the facts.”

  Jill frowned, her hands rubbing her large stomach. “Joe and Ginny are going to be so upset when they find out that Ricky is … is dead.”

  Lucy glanced at Nate, then said, “We don’t know what happened to Ricky. We found the remains of his parents and sisters, but not him. That’s why it’s so important that we talk to Joe and Ginny and find out if he said anything to them, even if they didn’t think much about it at the time.”

  “They’re at school,” she said.

  “We can come back.”

  “I need to talk to my husband first. We need to decide how we want to tell the kids about Ricky and his family.”

  “We understand. We can come back about five thirty?” Lucy suggested.

  “Okay, but I can’t make any promises.”

  “We’re going to be in town for the rest of the day, so we’ll stop by on our way back to San Antonio.”

  They got up, and Lucy motioned for Jill to continue sitting. “We’ll let ourselves out. Thank you, Mrs. Young.”

  They walked to the car and Nate said, “He was probably grabbed when he got home.”

  “Probably,” Lucy said.

  “You don’t
sound like you believe that.”

  “I don’t know what to believe at this point. Ash didn’t find his body. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but I want that kid to be alive.”

  “So do I, Luce,” he said.

  She pulled out her cell phone and called Sean. He answered on the second ring. “Hey, I’m going to be late tonight,” she said.

  “How late?”

  “Nate and I are still in Kerrville, and we have an interview scheduled for five thirty tonight. So I don’t see me getting home before seven thirty, maybe eight.”

  “Jess and I will find something to keep us occupied.”

  “Save me food.”

  “Well, that’s asking quite a bit, but I’ll see what I can do.”

  “You’re so funny,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Be careful out there. I love you.”

  “Love you, too.” She smiled and ended the call. “We have a couple hours, I’d like to talk to Glen Albright’s principal, if she’s still there. Check on Ash at the Albright house.”

  “Becky Albright’s best friend was originally interviewed, we should talk to her as well.”

  As Nate drove off, Lucy had the odd feeling that she was being watched. She looked at the Young house but didn’t see anyone standing at a window. She looked over her shoulder and didn’t see anyone on the street.

  “What’s wrong?” Nate asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s something. You have that look on your face.”

  “What look?”

  “Concern.”

  Lucy didn’t like talking about her odd sixth sense about being watched. It had started years ago, and while she controlled the panic that used to come with the sensation, it still made her feel off-center.

  “Someone was watching us. I had a feeling as we left the house, and it just got stronger.”

  “Maybe you’re psychic.”

  “I’m not psychic,” she snapped.

  “I was joking, Lucy. But I trust your gut, and if you say someone was watching us, someone was watching us.”

  “A neighbor most likely.”

  Lucy looked back several times, getting the sense that they were being followed, but no one followed them out of the Youngs’ neighborhood.

  She wanted to believe that she was being paranoid … but that sixth sense, whatever she called it, had saved her butt more than once, so she wasn’t going to discount it.

  Even if no one was around.

  Chapter Four

  THREE YEARS AGO

  Ricky pedaled as fast as he could, but he was hot, tired, angry, and unbearably sad, all rolled into one.

  He knew his parents were going to get a divorce. For months all they had done was argue. He didn’t know about what—he didn’t hear anything specific, other than that his mom had done something that made his dad really, really mad. And his dad never got mad. Even when Ricky and Joe, his best friend, broke the big picture window because they were playing baseball too close to the house. Even when Tori missed curfew for the hundredth time. So when his dad got mad, everyone would freeze because it was so … weird.

  Ricky talked to his sister Becky, whom he thought of as his nice sister, when he heard their mom crying after their dad went on a walk. That was another thing—his dad didn’t just go for a walk. That meant he was thinking things through, like a complex problem or something. Becky said that it was normal to argue and they weren’t getting a divorce. They’d been married for almost twenty years. As proof she told him that she’d just the day before walked into the house after school and they were hugging in the kitchen.

  He didn’t know if that was proof of anything, but it made him feel better. Until this morning when he heard his mom crying again when talking on the phone. He didn’t know who she was talking to, but she said one thing that stuck with him.

  “I have to leave. I don’t a choice, I have to.”

  Divorce. Just like his friend Rafi two years ago. Rafi’s parents got divorced and Rafi moved to Austin with his mom and Ricky only saw him when he visited his dad and it was weird. It wasn’t the same, and Ricky didn’t want anything to change. He didn’t want to see Joe and Ginny only a couple times a year. He didn’t want to change schools and find new friends. He didn’t want to move. He wanted everything to go back to the way it was before his mom and dad started fighting.

  That morning, he’d left for school early even though he didn’t even really like school. Sure, he was good at tests and stuff, but he was bored. Joe made school fun, and if he moved he wouldn’t ever find another friend like Joe, who could make him laugh when he drew funny pictures of Vice Principal Jenkins or the biggest bully in the school, Monica Brazzno. Or when Joe put a frog in Mrs. Perez’s desk drawer.

  It made him feel all weird to hear his mom cry and talk about leaving. He was going to cry and he was not a crybaby. He didn’t want his mom to leave. He didn’t want his dad to leave. He wanted everyone to stay. Even Tori, who was sometimes mean to him.

  After school he’d gone home with Joe and Ginny, which he did almost every day. They were twins, which was cool, and Ginny wasn’t a girl like Becky and Tori. Well, she was a girl, but she liked baseball and dirt bikes, so she wasn’t a girl girl. Joe and Ginny’s dad worked and their mom was always at her church volunteering for this and that, so they had the house to themselves. Ricky called his mom, and her phone went right to voice mail. He left her a message that he was at the Youngs’ and he’d be home by six. He did the same thing almost every day, so he didn’t think much about it. And she wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye.

  She’s not leaving.

  He’d feel better when he talked to Becky, but Becky had volleyball practice every day after school and he’d much rather be here with Joe and Ginny than alone waiting for everyone to come home. Waiting and worrying.

  They made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and then went out back to the tree house. The twins had the coolest tree house ever. They had this humongous yard, and three years ago when they moved here their dad had built a tree house in two trees that had grown together. It even withstood a huge storm that took out lots of trees and telephone poles and they didn’t have power for two whole days. But the tree house was safe. They played cards and ate and talked about stuff. Ricky didn’t really talk about his parents, but his friends knew he was upset and didn’t make him talk about it. And what could he say? He didn’t want them to feel sorry for him or anything. He just wanted things to be normal.

  After a while Mrs. Young called out, “It’s six o’clock! Ricky, are you staying for dinner?”

  “Jeez, I’m late again,” Ricky said. He said good-bye to the twins and climbed out of the tree house and ran into the house to grab his backpack. “Sorry, Mrs. Young.”

  “I’ll call your mom, let her know you’re on your way.”

  “Thanks.” He hopped on his bike.

  Being late was a bad habit according to his dad, but neither his mom nor dad had called, and Tori—who just got her license at the beginning of the summer and loved driving around—hadn’t come over to get him. It wasn’t that the Youngs lived all that far, it was less than two miles, but it was a steady slope uphill, so by the time he got home he was sweating.

  He dumped his bike on the back porch and tried the door—it was locked.

  Okay, that was weird. They never locked the back door. He knocked. “Hey! Open up!”

  No one came to the door. Both his dad’s car and Tori’s car were out front, and his mom usually parked in the garage. It was really quiet—he couldn’t hear the television or the radio his mom listened to when she cooked. Or his dad watching baseball, if there was a game on.

  He went in search of the key that was under a brick in the flower bed, but it took him jiggling ten bricks before he found it. He let himself in.

  “Mom! Dad! I’m home!”

  He walked around. No one was home. His mom’s purse wasn’t on the kitchen desk where she always left it. Tori’s and Becky’s backp
acks were there, in the mudroom. But Becky had practice today, didn’t she? Maybe he was wrong about that and his sisters came home after school.

  He looked in the garage. His mom’s car wasn’t there. It was an Escalade and large and comfortable, and whenever his family went out together they took that.

  Ricky checked the chalkboard where they left messages for each other. It was blank. Where was everyone? Had they gone out to dinner without him? A volleyball game without telling him? His dad said no cell phone until he was twelve, but he needed a cell phone. So his parents could call him and tell him what was going on and where they were.

  He checked the answering machine. There was a message from Mrs. Young that he was on his way home, but that was it. He deleted it. No one really called the house phone anymore, they usually called his dad’s cell or his mom’s cell. Both his sisters had cell phones, but he didn’t, which he didn’t think was fair. Joe and Ginny were getting cell phones for their tenth birthday, but his mom said just because his friends get something doesn’t mean he gets it. The girls had to wait until they were twelve, he could wait, too.

  Whatever.

  His mom often worked late meeting with clients and stuff. Maybe his dad went to the store. His mom hated to be interrupted when she was in a meeting, so he tried his dad’s cell. No answer.

  Ricky grabbed a banana and went upstairs to his room and played some Mario on his DS but was bored and hungry and it was already after seven. Where was everyone?

  He started to get a little weirded out. He bit his lip and thought about calling Mr. Young. Joe’s dad was scary in a good way. He used to be in the Army and now he was a mechanic. He looked scary, but he wasn’t mean and he liked Ricky, he was pretty sure. At least, he never said Joe and Ginny couldn’t come over and play and he always asked if Ricky wanted to stay for dinner or spend the night.

  But Ricky didn’t want to act like a baby. He was almost ten. Right after Christmas was his birthday (which wasn’t really fair because it was Christmas and then two days later he got a birthday present, but they didn’t really have parties because it was so close to Christmas).

  He walked through the house again and it felt so empty and he did get a little scared, so he called his mom’s cell phone. She didn’t answer, so he called his dad’s phone again. No answer. He was about to leave a message when he heard a car coming up the long driveway. Finally!