by H K Christie
Martina smirked. "What a red-letter day for her. Is your other case wrapped up?"
"Yep, and I can now help full time on this case. That is until another body drops."
"Fingers crossed. No more dead bodies."
Wasn't that the truth and not just because I wanted to help Martina with the missing girls' case, but because I wished people would stop killing one another for no good reason.
The receptionist and presumably her manager, a woman in her forties with dark hair and brown skin, approached. "My name is Patsy Davidson. I'm the staff manager here." Her dark brown eyes studied both of us with curiosity.
"I'm Detective Hirsch, with the CoCo County Sheriff's Department, and this is my colleague Martina Monroe." I handed her my badge and identification.
She studied them and then returned the items. "Thank you. You can come back to my office, and we can discuss the warrant."
"That would be appreciated."
The door next to the reception desk opened, and I took the lead as I entered, and Martina followed behind. Patsy led us back to a small office in the corner. She said, "Please have a seat."
Martina and I each took one of the chairs in front of Patsy's desk. She glanced at the two of us. "I recognize the two of you from the news. Is this about the missing girls?"
I nodded. "We didn't disclose it to the public, but all three were patients here around the same time."
Patsy placed her hand over her heart. "My gosh. Do you think their disappearance is related to the clinic?"
"Possibly. We have a tip that they were introduced to a talent agent by a nurse on your staff. We're trying to verify if that was true or not. Do you have anybody on staff, now or four years ago, with a first name of Jon?" I asked.
Patsy's mouth dropped open. "Well, yes. We do. He's been with us for, my goodness, probably fifteen years."
Martina and I exchanged glances. "Is he here today?" I asked.
"No, he's out today."
"Out sick?" Martina asked with a hint of suspicion in her voice.
"No, it's his regular day off. He's scheduled to be off today and tomorrow."
"We're going to need his address, along with first and last name. It's covered in the warrant."
"No problem. Is there anyone else you need to talk to?"
"Yes, but first, what can you tell us about Jon..." I asked, hinting for her to give me his last name.
"Jonathan Day."
"Yes, what can you tell me about Jonathan Day? You said he's worked here for fifteen years. What else can you tell us about him?" I asked.
"Well, he's one of our best nurses. He is liked by the patients and by the staff. He's never had any complaints against him."
She gasped.
"What is it?" Martina asked.
"I've never met him before, but Jonathan has a brother. He's mentioned him. I think his name is Jordan, like you said on the news."
We didn't even ask if Jonathan had family members, which made the disclosure more than a coincidence. "So, his brother's name is Jordan Day?"
"I would assume so," Patsy said.
I turned to Martina. "We should call Vincent." She stood up and stepped away from the desk before pulling out her cell phone.
"That's very helpful, Patsy. What else can you tell us about Jonathan?"
"Well, I don't think he's married, but he's very social. We have our annual Christmas party and our picnic that we do in the summer. He usually attends. He likes to play sports, and he's a big hiker. Actually, I think I remember him mentioning something about going on a hike with a friend this week, and that's what he was going to do on his day off."
"Did he say where he was hiking?" I asked.
"He didn't say, but he didn't mention going out of town either, so maybe he went to Mount Diablo or somewhere close by."
"Did Jonathan ever have any inappropriate relationships with any of the patients? Or see them socially outside of the hospital?" I asked.
"Not that I'm aware of. It's not allowed, which is why it surprised me that you said he may be connected to the missing girls."
"So, if he did have a relationship outside of the hospital with these girls, then he would've had to keep it secret or he could lose his job. Is that correct?" I asked.
"Yes."
Martina sat down next to me once more. "Vincent is on it."
"Good, thanks."
I refocused on Patsy. "We're going to need to interview the rest of your staff who are here today. Is there a way we can work it out so it doesn't impact the patient's care?"
"How much time will you need with each of them?" Patsy asked.
"I wouldn't think more than five or ten minutes each. If we could have two at a time, I can interview one and Martina can interview the other in a different room if you have one available."
"That shouldn't be a problem. Let me see what I can do. You stay here, and I'll get the first set and another room cleared for Ms. Monroe."
"It's appreciated."
Patsy exited her office, and I faced Martina. "Does this feel a bit too easy?"
"A little. But then again, nobody ever connected the three cases before. It wasn't in any of their files that any of the girls had visited the hospital's eating disorder clinic. The connection wasn't made until now—four years later."
She glanced up and back at me. "Was there a lot of turnover at the station back then?"
I said, "I can ask around. It seems odd that they disappeared only a month apart and nobody connected them back then."
"That's what I'm thinking," she commented.
"With three different detectives who took the reports, maybe that's the reason for the lack of the connection?" I asked.
Martina said, "Maybe."
"All right, let's interview each of the staff as if they're a potential suspect until we have more information about Jonathan Day or his brother. Who knows, maybe the name he told the girl was an alias to pin it on a different staffer."
"That's a good point. We should keep an open mind," Martina concurred.
Two hours later, we exited the hospital with a full list of employment records for the department. None of the staff interviews had produced any useful information other than the agreement that everybody seemed to like Jonathan Day and confirmed he was an avid hiker. Multiple staff members knew he had a brother but weren't sure of his name and had assumed he didn't live nearby.
12
Martina
Detective Hirsch and I sat outside Jonathan Day's house in Bay Point. It had stylish landscaping in the front and a fresh coat of paint on the one-story, ranch-style home. I had suspected that Jonathan took care of his home, considering what his coworkers had said about him. He was fastidious, neat, and punctual. I wasn't expecting to see a rundown old shack, but this was a pleasant house in a decent neighborhood. We hadn't gotten the warrant to search his house yet, but Hirsch put out an APB so we could question him as soon as we found him. We assumed he was hiking locally or maybe on a short overnight backpacking trip somewhere within the greater Bay Area, since he had to be at work in the next two days. If he'd done an overnight, we would be waiting here a long time.
At this point Jonathan Day was our best lead, and we were still waiting to hear from Vincent on the background checks for both Jonathan and his brother, Jordan.
Interviews of the friends of Layla and Willow were consistent. Both girls had told their BFFs about Jordan Starr and the promises of fame and fortune. Both young women were excited about their prospects up until they went missing. What we discovered from Raquel's friends and family was that she had been more close-lipped about what she was doing. All she had told her girlfriends was that something big was about to happen and that they would celebrate soon. If she wasn't an aspiring actress, I would say it was a long shot that she was connected to Jordan Starr, but the secret headshot and impending big news clinched it for me.
Hirsch's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and then looked at me with his eyebrows raised. "This is Hirsch
."
A lot of head-nodding and "uh-huh" before he hung up.
"What was that about?" I asked.
"We got the warrant. One of the uniforms will drive it out to us. Now all we need is to find Jonathan Day."
"Agreed."
"Until the warrant arrives, we should stay put."
"Or we could question the neighbors and see if they've seen him or any girls coming and going."
"All right, are you okay with staying here and waiting for the officer with the warrant?"
Would I be okay sitting on my rear, waiting in the car? No. "While you do that, I'll look around the place from the outside." Both of us exited the vehicle, and I approached the one-story, newish home in a subdivision where most of the homes looked alike. The only distinguishing feature among the homes was the landscaping, which Jonathan Day had put a lot of effort into. There were tall grasses and small shrubs lining a dry creek bed. Likely all drought-resistant plants, which were perfect for California. It conserved water and was attractive at the same time.
I continued to the fence and stood up on my tippy-toes. I glanced over the top and could see that it was an equally well-cared-for backyard. Once we had a search warrant, I'd inspect it further. I walked up to the front and peered through the windows again. No movement since Hirsch and I first arrived.
These types of homes rarely had a basement, so if Jonathan Day was keeping anyone hostage, it wasn't down below. I didn't see any structures like a shed in the small backyard, where he could hide anyone. The house wasn't a likely place for holding someone in captivity either, unless he had soundproofed any of the rooms inside. He could have taken the girls somewhere else to do whatever he wanted before disposing of them. Or maybe he simply handed the girls off to his brother, and he was the one who did whatever depraved thing that went through his mind.
My heart ached for those women and their parents. The most likely outcome was that they had been long gone and dead for years. The very least we could do was to bring them home so their families could have memorials and start the grieving process.
I stood at the end of the driveway as the black-and-white cruiser approached. I glanced down at the next-door neighbor's house, where Hirsch was talking to an elderly gentleman on the porch. I waved, and he nodded back. The officer turned off the car and exited with papers in his hand. "You must be Martina?"
"Yes, sir, I'm Martina Monroe," I said and extended my hand.
"I'm Officer Olsen."
"Nice to meet you."
He handed me the folded-up piece of paper. "Will you be assisting with the search?"
"Yep. I'm at your service. Anything you need."
"Thank you. It's appreciated. Let's wait for Hirsch before we go in."
We watched as Hirsch approached with an extra bounce in his step. He must be as excited as I was to search Day's house. "Olsen, good to see you." They shook hands. "You guys ready?"
"Yep."
Hirsch led the way, unlocking the front door with a lock-picking set. I studied him. "I didn't know you had skills."
"Oh, I have all kinds of skills. You don't even know the half of it," he said with a chuckle. Gloves on, he pushed the door open.
We entered the home, which, like the exterior, was clean and well taken care of. I placed the search warrant on top of the dining table, and we started searching the home for any clues about what had happened to Layla, Willow, and Raquel.
Several hours later, all we had was a computer to take to the lab to be analyzed. We didn't find any obvious traces of the women, or anything sinister for that matter, but the crime scene team had taken evidence and would be able to tell us for sure. Jonathan Day lived alone, and from the photographs and rainbow flag in his home office, I'd deduced that he was a gay man. If that was the case, it didn't make sense for a gay man to take a young woman except to pass her off to someone else. His brother? Traffickers? If so, why? Money?
Hirsch, Olsen, and I stood outside Jonathan Day's home. I wondered when he would return from his day of hiking. Maybe he was doing an overnight camp, and we would have to come back the next day. Or he wasn't hiking at all. Maybe he'd fled after the news report that we were taking a second look at the cold cases. I was about to ask Hirsch if we should call it a day when my cell phone buzzed. I answered it. "What did you find? Please tell me it's something good." Vincent hadn't let us down yet.
"It's a two-parter, Martina. What do you want first, the good news or the bad news?"
The fact there was even bad news was bad news. "Good news first."
"Jonathan Day has a brother named Jordan Day, as his supervisor had suggested. Jordan Day is living down in Los Angeles and hasn't lived in the Bay Area for a few years."
"A few, like four?"
"His address changed three and half years ago from Concord to Los Angeles."
Shortly after the last of the three girls were taken. "Okay, can you give me address, phone number, and employer records for Jordan Day?"
"Of course, I'll email them right over."
"What's the bad news?" I waved over Hirsch, who was chatting with Officer Olsen.
"They've located Jonathan Day."
"How is that bad news?" I asked.
"Well, they found him because he literally fell off a cliff—and died."
"He fell off a cliff?"
"Well, more like a mountain. They found him in Mount Diablo State Park. Looks like he took quite a fall and broke his neck. He was pronounced dead on the scene."
"What the heck, Vincent. That's not bad news, that's terrible news," I said, trying to make light of a bad situation in the hopes it would stop the pit that was forming in my stomach.
"Sorry, Martina. Let me know what else I can do."
"Thank you. I'll tell Hirsch and call you later."
Hirsch cocked his head at me, probably trying to figure out why I was frowning. "That was Vincent. Jonathan Day is dead. Preliminary assessment is that it looked like a hiking accident, and he broke his neck from a fall in Mount Diablo State Park."
He stood, appearing as if he was stunned into silence. "I don't like that. Not one bit."
"There's more. We located his brother, Jordan. He lives in LA now. He moved there from the Bay Area three and half years ago."
"After Layla went missing?"
"That's right."
I could tell Hirsch didn't like this any more than I did. Our first lead in the case just turned up dead. Was it a coincidence or was someone cleaning house? Would Jordan kill his own brother to cover up his crimes?
13
Martina
I hung up the phone and turned to Hirsch in the driver's seat. I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about this, but I was about to find out. "Do you like chicken piccata?"
He cocked his head, and curiosity danced across his face. "I do."
Here goes. "My mother has invited you inside for dinner. Apparently, she's tried a new recipe for chicken piccata and has paired it with brown rice and mixed vegetables."
"A home-cooked meal?"
I smiled. "She's a pretty good cook, so it's likely not to disappoint. But if you choose to dine with us, be prepared to be grilled by the one-and-only Zoey Monroe."
He chortled. "Thanks for the warning. She definitely has a gift for interrogation."
I chuckled. "That she does. And she's relentless."
"All good traits to have. I'm in."
We exited the vehicle and walked up to my front door. It felt natural and strange at the same time. It wasn't romantic but somehow still intimate. I unlocked the door and led Hirsch toward the kitchen, where I could hear my mother and Zoey singing along to the radio. As we approached, I found a now-familiar scene. Not only was it a sing-along but also a dance party. I turned to Hirsch and said in a low voice, "This is how the other people live."
He hunched down to comment. "I'm not sure I've ever seen optimists in their natural habitat before. Fascinating."
The two noticed us watching their routine and stopped. "Well, hell
o superstars," Zoey sang out.
"I don't know about us, but the two of you look a bit more like superstars than either of us," I said.
"Well, we aren't all over the TV like some people." Zoey had emphasized some.
Zoey had been having quite a field day with the fact that her mother had appeared on television. She even talked to her friends about it at school. She had insisted that her mom was a superstar. I guessed in the eyes of a child, anytime you were on the screen, it was a big deal. I hadn't been thrilled with having my picture or name out there for all the deranged to see. I had always been very careful about my personal information—like having an unlisted number and being careful online—so I couldn't help but feel my privacy and the safety of myself, my daughter, and my mother were threatened by having my name and face out there. Perhaps I'd been in this job too long to not think that way. My first concern was always safety, knowing firsthand what could be lurking in the shadows.
I grinned at my angel. "Zoey and Mom, you remember Detective Hirsch?"
Zoey nodded enthusiastically.
"Good to see you, Zoey."
My mother said, "I'm so glad you decided to join us. I'm afraid I made too much food and bet the two of you have had a long day."
I grumbled. "You don't know the half of it."
Zoey stepped forward. "Oh, tell me everything, okay?"
"Maybe one day when you're a little older, I'll give you all the details, but for now, let's just say we had one step forward and one big step back."
Zoey put her hand on her hip and squinted her eyes at us. "So, you didn't go anywhere?"
"Well, we found out one thing and then another thing didn't turn out. Overall, a disappointing day."
"I'm sorry, Mommy, but I think you and the detective will get to the bottom of it."
I glanced over at Hirsch, who wore a grin, clearly entertained by Zoey.
"So, Detective, have you gotten a pet yet?"
"Nope. Not yet. I'm going to buy a new house first."
"And then you'll get a pet?" Zoey asked.
"Maybe."
