by Alexa Grace
Frankie was finishing a lettuce salad in the kitchen when Lane carried in both laptops. He put his down on one end of the small kitchen table and put hers down at the other. He went outside to check on the burgers on the grill, flipped them over before returning.
Too angry to talk, he clenched his jaw and turned on his laptop then read the email with the ATF report. Mandy Morris was shot with a .38 hollow point bullet with a Ruger, Taurus, or Smith & Wesson.
"Frankie, what kind of guns did you say were registered to either Dr. Caine or David Chambers?"
She wiped her hands on a dishcloth and came to the table to sit down in front of her laptop. "I don't remember, but I'll look it up."
Watching her open the laptop, Lane asked, "Is there anything you want to tell me, Frankie?"
"About what?"
He just glared at her as she looked at her screen and saw the email from David Chambers to Dr. Caine. He knew the exact moment when she realized that he now knew what she’d done. She blinked, her cheeks burned with color, and she cleared her throat.
"I can explain," she began.
"I'm all ears. I want to hear it, every last detail, especially the part about why I knew nothing about any of it."
"Give me a break, Lane. You had to know that I sometimes do things out of the box. Why do you think my private investigation company is doing so well? Sometimes you have to break the rules to get the job done."
"Have you forgotten you're a sworn deputy for this op?"
She didn't answer for a long moment, and then said, "I saw an opportunity to get some information we couldn't have gotten any other way and I went for it."
"Why don't you start your explanation from the beginning? Don't leave anything out." His face colored with anger.
Lane's cell phone rang and he whipped it out of his jeans pocket. He had only said a couple of words when he ended the call and grabbed the keys from the kitchen counter.
"We'll continue this conversation later. The sheriff wants to see us right away. He says it's an emergency."
"Why does he want us to drive all that way back home? Can't he do a conference call?"
"He's at the Courtyard Marriott on College Avenue. He's here."
Frankie knew as soon as they entered her uncle's hotel room that something was very wrong. His face was pale; his muscles looked tense and ready to snap. He also looked like he could drop from exhaustion any second. He motioned for them to sit at a small table in the room then sat down himself. He pressed both hands over his eyes as if they burned with weariness. She looked at the stack of papers on the table and noticed her cousin, Jennifer's photo.
"I need your help," he began. "Jennifer is missing and I need you to find her."
"Missing? What do you mean she's missing?" Frankie struggled to stay calm. Surely she had misheard him.
"Just what I said, she's missing and has been missing for maybe five days or so. Her bastard boyfriend told me earlier today and I didn't want to believe him. So I drove down here. I talked to her roommate and some of her friends. No one's seen her for weeks. "
"How could that happen? Hasn't she been calling home?" she asked wanting to put all the pieces together. She glanced at Lane who was staring at Jennifer's photo lying on the table with an odd look on his face. Surely, he'd seen Jennifer's photos in frames all over her uncle's office.
"We got a call from her every weekend. The last call was five days ago."
A knock at the door startled them. As her uncle moved to answer it, Frankie made a wish it was Jennifer she would see when he opened the door. Instead a tall young man with dark, unruly hair appeared. She recognized him as the man Jennifer often brought to family dinners.
"What in the hell are you doing here? Get out!"
"No, I'm not leaving." Paul Vance met Tim Brennan's glare head-on. "I've been following you all day. Did you find out anything?"
"I said, get out. Do you want me to throw you out?" he seethed with mounting anger.
"No, I'm not leaving. You need me. I know this campus and town much better than you do. I know where Jennifer goes and where she doesn't. I'm staying. I want to find her as much as you do. Let me help."
Frankie went to her uncle and squeezed his arm. "Uncle Tim, let him stay. Maybe he can help."
Tim was incredulous. "Help? Do you want to know how much he's helped so far? Jennifer is pregnant with his child. So what does he do when he finds out? He dumps her."
"That's not true. I didn't dump her. I said some things I wish I could take back, but I never stopped loving her. I need to find her as much as you do."
"Get out!"
Paul looked at Tim Brennan then Frankie, and backed toward the open door and into the hallway. "Please call me when you find her. Please."
Tim slammed the door then returned to the table where he sat down in the chair opposite Lane. Frankie watched him gulp the rest of his coffee. She knew how emotions could get in the way of an investigation. Her uncle had to calm down, because this was the most important investigation of their lives.
Jennifer awoke in a strange room. Her mind was fuzzy. She sat up and looked around. The walls of the room were covered by a royal blue foam material that looked like egg cartons. There was a small white sink and toilet in the corner. A white, wooden dresser with four drawers was on the other wall. Other than the twin bed where she sat, those were the only objects in the room. The only light came from a horizontal strip of small basement windows located near the top of the opposite wall.
She remembered now. She was with Dr. Caine. He'd offered a tour of his home but she had asked for a glass of water. He'd returned from the kitchen with a glass of ice water and when she drank it. She remembered an odd bitter taste but she was so thirsty she ignored it. He'd led her through the house and by the time they'd reached the lower level she'd felt so sleepy she could barely stand. That's when he'd helped her lie down on the twin bed and fled the room, slamming the door behind him.
She looked at the door. It looked thicker than the average bedroom door and had a glass peep hole which she thought was odd. She moved to the door to open it so she could find Dr. Caine, but it wouldn't budge. That's when the terrifying realization hit her. She was locked in.
Dr. Eric Caine pulled his sports car into his garage and pressed the button on his visor to move the garage door down to its closed position. He'd spent the morning making the rounds at the clinic. He yawned and thought a nap sounded like a good idea. It had been a long night — a productive one, but long just the same. He twisted his key in the locked door and entered his house.
He noticed the coffee pot was still on and realized Miriam must have cleaned earlier. He hoped she'd stayed out of the basement but then thought again. Even if she'd cleaned the basement, she wouldn't have heard a sound from Jennifer's room. He'd gone to a lot of trouble and expense to have it sound-proofed.
He poured a mug of black coffee, and then headed for his room upstairs to change clothes. In the hallway, he noticed a light on in his office. That idiot maid was always leaving lights on, even after he'd lectured her.
He entered the room. Startled, he nearly panicked and fled the room. David Chambers was sitting behind his desk.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"It was hard to stay away with no money," answered David.
The doctor glared at him and asked, "How did you get into my house? What are you doing in my office?"
"It was easy to get into your house, and you're damn lucky I chose to wait for you in your office."
"What are you talking about?"
David held up a gold lipstick case between his index finger and thumb. "Do you know what this is?"
"Yes, stupid, that's lipstick." The man was a moron, and the quicker he could get him out of his house the better.
David pulled off the top to reveal the flash drive beneath. "Oh, it's more than a lipstick, smart-guy. It's a flash drive that someone used to install surveillance on your computer."
Dr. Caine ease
d up closer to the desk to look at it. "What does that mean?"
"It means prior to my finding it, someone was reading every email you received, recording every website you visited, and possibly recording every keystroke. Someone went to a lot of trouble to record everything you do and have stored on this computer. Whoever did this have your passwords, screenshots, emails and anything else that might be on your hard drive."
"Oh my God," he gasped as he sat down in one of the leather chairs across the desk from David. "What am I going to do? Who did this?"
"You don't have to do anything. I took care of it. I removed all traces from your hard drive. The issue, and it's a big one, is finding out who did this and what they've done with the information. Who's been in this room?"
"Miriam, my maid, cleans in here once a week. But that twit doesn't have the brain or the know-how to do anything like this."
"Who else? One of your girlfriends?"
"It couldn't be Candace or any of the others. Their time spent in the house is mostly in my bedroom. I doubt if any of them even know how to use a computer. Their interest is my money and what it can do for them."
"So there's no one else who might have come into your office?"
"No, no one," he said as he smoothed back his hair with his hand. "Wait a minute. The night of my dinner party, I found Lane Henderson up here standing against the wall outside my office. I asked him what he was doing and he said he was waiting for his wife who was using the bathroom. I told him that he was standing near the wrong room and led him to the bathroom to wait for her. But when I came out of my bedroom, he was back outside the office door pressing his wife against the wall near my office door kissing her."
"And you didn't think that was odd?"
"Not at the time. I thought maybe she'd come out of the bathroom and the mood had hit him in the hallway and he'd backed her up against the wall to make out. I know I'd do the same thing every chance I got if she was mine."
"I think it'd be a good idea if I kept an eye on them — especially her, due to the fact a lipstick container was used to hide the flash drive. A man wouldn't do that."
Dr. Caine sat silent for a moment thinking about Frankie Douglas and how much he wanted her. He didn't want this sick freak to be anywhere near her. But then he thought about the amount of potentially damaging information on his computer. He'd be put away for a long, long time.
"Do it."
Chapter Nine
"Just sit down, you have to have food. Besides, we can talk more about the case." Frankie had nagged her uncle until he agreed to go out with them for pizza. The Italian spices in the air had Frankie practically drooling. Lane held her chair out for her, and then sat down himself.
The waiter took their order for a large pepperoni and mushroom pizza with extra cheese and three cold Heinekens. They waited to talk until they were sure the waiter was out of earshot. Tim Brennan spoke first.
"Frankie, you can't breathe a word of this to your mother or anyone else in the family. We can't let your Aunt Megan find out about this yet. I don't know if her heart can take it."
Frankie watched him as he scrubbed his face with his hands. She knew he was struggling for control. The more calm he remained, the better for him think clearly and the better their chances of finding Jennifer.
Frankie simply nodded and looked down at her hands. They had to find Jennifer and take her home. They had to. She was still trying to wrap her mind around Jennifer's pregnancy. She hadn't realized how much she still thought of Jennifer as the child she used to carry around on her back. Now a baby was growing inside her — a baby that belonged to Paul Vance.
"What about Paul?" she asked. "Do you think he had anything to do with her disappearance?"
"Hell, yes, I do. You know as well as I do how these cases go. Isn't it usually the boyfriend or the husband who plays the major role in a woman’s disappearance?"
He looked at Lane. "I want you to do a background check on Paul Vance. I want you to question him, then talk to his friends, neighbors, guys on the football team, and anyone else you can think of. I want his whereabouts for the last five days. I also want to know what he's told them about Jennifer and their relationship."
"Yes, sir," Lane said.
"Tomorrow I'll file the missing person report at the police station here in Bloomington."
"Why here? Why can't you process it back home?" asked Frankie.
"She was discovered missing in Bloomington, so here is where I have to file it."
He reached in the manila file he brought in with him and pulled out two slips of paper. He handed one to each of them. "Here is a photocopy of Jennifer's most recent picture. She drives a blue 2010 Honda Civic. I've listed her license number at the bottom of the page. If you need anything else, call me at the hotel."
"Are you going to release it to the media?" asked Lane.
"No, not yet. Let's see what our search efforts uncover. I hope there won't be a need for that. I still hope we find her." He paused as the waiter set a bottle of beer in front of each of them along with plates and silverware. "We'll follow our usual process for a missing person. I'll apply for a warrant for her cell phone call as well as cell tower history tomorrow."
Frankie looked down at her hands again. It would take too long for the warrant and time was of the essence. She and her partner, Ted had contacts at the cell phone company who would get her the information with a moment's notice. Every second counted. For every day Jennifer remained missing, the likelihood of finding her alive diminished.
"I want to go back and talk to her roommate again tomorrow. I want to look around her room to see if I can find anything that might help us find her. Frankie, I want you to check her bank account, both credit and debit activity."
She nodded as Tim scratched notes on the manila file. "After I do that, I'll do an Internet search and social media sites like Facebook and Twitter to see if and when she's visited and what she's communicated. I’ll also be able to determine her circle of friends from these sites." Frankie made a mental note to also check the hospitals and mortuaries. It was something she didn't want her uncle to even have to think about.
"Lane, I'd like you to check the apartment and house rental agencies. There's a chance she moved to get away from Paul," said Tim. "I also want you to check for surveillance cameras on campus, especially near her dorm. I'll ask her friends where she liked to go and I'll email those locations to you tomorrow."
The pizza arrived and the three ate their meal in silence. Frankie wondered what the next day would bring.
They were ready to leave when Tim asked Lane to get the car. As soon as Lane left, he leaned in close to Frankie and whispered, "Remember all those times I told you to play by the rules? Well, forget I said that. I know your private investigative equipment is state of the art. Use anything you can think of to bring Jennifer home. Do you understand what I'm saying? Go as far out of the box as you need to. Just find her."
"So where's Jennifer Brennan?" David stretched his arms then folded them behind his head as he rocked in the desk chair in the doctor's home office. Dr. Caine sat behind the desk scrolling through his email messages.
"Not your concern, David." He glowered at him then went back to his computer screen.
"You're way out of your league here, doc. You don't know the first thing about getting rid of a problem."
"Look who's talking. Like you did such a bang-up job with the first two problems. You freaking idiot." Dr. Caine's accusing voice stabbed the air.
"Don't call me names," David said. "Where is she?"
"None of your business."
"Do you really think you're so clever that I don't know that she's in your basement in your new locked room?"
"Stay away from her. She's worth $100,000 to us if we wait until she gives birth. After that, you can do whatever you want. Just don't get caught." Dr. Caine glared at David Chambers. He was a loose cannon who would bring them both down if something wasn't done about him.
"Spea
king of getting caught, where is her car, smart-guy? Did she have a cell phone? If so, where is it? The first thing the cops will do is look for her car and get her cell phone information. Hell, they can track her right to your front door with her cell tower history."
"Then they'll track her to the bottom of Monroe Lake."
"Are you kidding me? Did anyone see you?"
"Not a chance."
They'd dropped off Tim at the hotel and Frankie had moved back to the passenger seat when Lane said, "Frankie, I'm going to take you home, and then I have to run an errand."
