Last Seen

by Rick Mofina

  The intern held up her phone, recording Faith being escorted by the officers, then immediately sent it to her editors with a message.

  A Sun-Times exclusive—looks like River Ridge police just arrested Faith Hudson.

  45

  Is it all over?

  Is this how they’re going to tell us about Gage?

  Faith saw nothing beyond the squad car windows.

  It was getting late and the neighborhoods were a teary blur during the drive to headquarters. The officers had refused to answer her questions, so she stopped asking them, squeezing the rosary as if it were her lifeline. The blood rush drumming in her ears had muted the sounds around her.

  She was numb in the elevator as it ascended to the same fourth floor where detectives and FBI agents paused to look at her as she was taken through it.

  Where was Cal? He’d never answered her calls or messages from the car. Did they find something with one of his stories?

  Something was wrong; she felt it.

  The officers escorted her down the hall toward the interview rooms. As they neared Interview Room 402, she saw that the door was open and gasped.

  Cal was in a chair at the table.

  She couldn’t see the detectives—it looked like they’d taken a break from questioning him.

  His gaze met hers in the instant she passed by.

  “Faith! Did they find Gage? What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” she called back as the officers kept her moving.

  Across the hall, the door was also open to Interview Room 403, where she had been questioned previously. As she passed it she looked inside and her eyes widened.

  Roy Tate stared at her from a chair at the table.

  He looked at her in silence as she walked by.

  Her mind was reeling as the officers led her into Interview Room 404, where Malko waited at the table with a woman in a business suit. Her hair was cut in a short, neat bob.

  “Hello, Faith.” Malko and the woman stood while the officers patted Faith down and searched her before leaving, closing the door behind them. “This is Agent Sue Marsh. Please, sit down.”

  “Why bring me here like this? Did you find Gage?”

  Malko stared at her for a long, cold moment. “No, unfortunately, but our investigation is ongoing.”

  “You keep telling me that. Why did you bring me here when you have nothing new to tell me?”

  Malko continued staring at Faith, his eyes devoid of emotion.

  “I can tell you this—you have the right to remain silent.”

  Faith was stunned as Malko continued.

  “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights?”

  Faith was frozen in place.

  “Do you understand these rights, Faith?”

  She nodded.

  “And with these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”

  Faith’s mind swirled with confusion and fear. Cal and Roy Tate were down the hall in interview rooms. She had no idea what they’d told investigators, no idea what was happening.

  Had they wanted her to see them? Was it some kind of tactic?

  “I don’t understand.” Her voice quavered. “Am I being charged with something?”

  “No,” Malko said. “We have questions based on new information and we need your help with the answers so we can determine what happened to your son. You want to help us find Gage, don’t you, Faith?”

  Her chin crumpled, her eyes stung.

  “With all my heart.”

  “Good. So, do we proceed? Or do you want a lawyer, which means we stop everything?”

  “Tell me what’s happened. What have you learned?”

  “Faith.” Malko stared at her. “Are you waiving your right to an attorney?”

  She swallowed and thought carefully, then began nodding. “Yes, I am. I want you to tell me what you know, right now.”

  “First, sign the rights waiver.” Malko nodded to Marsh, who slid the sheet and a pen to Faith. She signed it with urgency.

  “Is my son dead?” Her voice broke. “You tell me right now if Gage is dead!”

  “We have no evidence to suggest that, Faith, and until such time we’re proceeding under the presumption that he’s alive but missing.”

  Faith exhaled slowly.

  “I’m sure you’ve deduced that we’ve been talking to your husband and Roy Tate,” Malko said.

  “You wanted me to see them, didn’t you?”

  “Why do you think you’re here?”

  “You said you have new information.”

  Malko tapped one of several files on the desk. “We have the results of your polygraph and our polygraphist, who’s been proven to be correct in just about every one of his cases, has concluded that you’ve been untruthful. That you’ve lied to us, Faith.”

  She blinked several times.

  “There are things you’re not telling us.” Malko unbuttoned his collar and loosened his tie. “What’s your relationship with Roy Tate?”

  Faith didn’t answer.

  Agent Marsh began placing the Oak Brook mall security photos on the table showing Faith with Tate.

  “We reviewed all of your credit card and bank card records,” Malko said. “We’ve studied all of the mall’s security cameras. Seems the only thing you bought was lunch and time with Roy Tate.”

  Faith stared at her hands as if reading the lines raked across her palms. She began twisting her wedding and engagement rings. Malko stood and leaned over the table, drawing his face to hers.

  “We need the truth,” he said. “Time is running out.”

  Faith’s stomach writhed and the walls came to life, moving toward her, offering no escape. The room began spinning, spitting up images of Gage, the insane butcher, the burning witch, the lunatic with the chain saw. Faith saw bloodied, twitching limbs. Lights pulsated, music hammered at her brain, then she saw herself in her wedding gown at the altar with Cal.

  “You can’t hold on to the lies any longer.” Malko raised his voice.

  His words cut into her with surgical precision and the wound ran deep. The truth clawed at her, forcing her to steel herself. She raised her head to meet Malko’s gaze as she admitted the truth for the first time.

  “I was having an affair with Roy Tate.”

  Malko stared at her for a long victorious moment, assessing her in a new light as he slowly pulled back.

  Faith covered her face with her hand and sobbed. Agent Marsh slid the tissue box toward her.

  “Why didn’t you tell us this at the outset?” Malko asked.

  “Because it was my life and had nothing to do with Gage.”

  Malko’s fist came down hard on the table. “Wrong, Faith. It has everything to do with Gage.”

  46

  Faith’s eyes were iridescent with tears as her last moments with Gage pierced her memory.

  How she reached for his hand, how he shook hers away.

  “I’m okay, Mom! I’m not a baby!”

  She should’ve held on to him...she should’ve...

  She was a horrible mother for not watching over him and now she was revealed to be a failure as a wife. Faith’s skin tingled with shame as Malko and Marsh stared at her for what she was: a lying, cheating adulteress.

  Yes, she’d had her reasons for being unfaithful, and her suspicions about Cal, but that had been before the mounting horrors she was facing; now, her fractured life—what was left of it—had been torn to pieces.

  “Does Cal know about you and Tate?” Malko asked.

  Her face bunched up and she groaned for air. “God, no, I never told him. Did you tell him?”

  Malko di
dn’t answer.

  “Did you tell Cal?” Faith repeated. “Are you using this against me somehow?”

  Malko didn’t answer, letting the uncertainty torment her before moving on with new questions.

  “Tell us how your affair with Tate happened.”

  Faith twisted a tissue in her hands.

  “I met him when Cal and I went to a big press and police party, maybe six months ago. He seemed nice.”

  “How did you meet afterward?”

  “Not long after the party he called me at my office. He said he was in my building on business and invited me to coffee. At first I thought it odd, kind of forward, but I was flattered. I agreed to meet him.”

  “You were attracted to him?”

  “Yes. He was charming, handsome and a good listener. We talked. He casually suggested that we should meet again. I was going through a bad period with Cal, my life was whirling... I agreed.”

  “Then what?”

  “We met in a park, we talked, we connected and we kept meeting and talking, agreeing that we’d keep our situation secret.”

  “And things progressed and you became intimate?”

  Faith gave him a tearful nod.

  “What about Cal? Do you think he suspected anything?”

  “No, he was barely home to notice. Cal was married to his job. That was part of the problem. He completely checked out. I think it was one of his stories, something happened with him. He changed.”

  “Which story?”

  “I’m not sure which one.” Faith shook her head.

  “Do you think he got something wrong?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure. He never talked to me, no matter how much I tried.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He withdrew, like he was carrying something dark inside. It got worse when the layoffs started and the rumors flew of even more looming job cuts at the Star-News.”

  “So your marriage was not strong and you were not happy, like you told us earlier. In truth, it was strained, it was in trouble?”

  Faith blinked several times as she nodded.

  “He was never home. I was doing everything and I felt completely alone. I told you, Cal was married to his job. He worked closely with other women at the paper—vibrant, exciting, attractive women.”

  “Did you suspect he was unfaithful?”

  “I had fears, suspicions. I’d seen how some of the reporters touched him—it was intimate. He made me feel alone and I hated him for it.”

  “So you looked outside your marriage?”

  “I felt invisible until Roy came along. He was alone. I was alone.” She stopped, tears rolling down her face, and stared at the cinder-block walls. “We found each other and things just fit for both of us. It felt good and it helped for a while. Roy was like medicine I needed.”

  Malko let a few beats pass while he stared at her.

  “You can see how this looks, Faith.”

  “What’re you getting at?”

  “Let’s look at some facts. You lied to us about being happy in your marriage. You chose to have an affair with a man who is an expert at secrets and helping people disappear.”

  “I don’t know what you’re driving at. I broke it off with Roy.” She indicated the photos from the mall. “That’s what the Oak Brook meeting was about. I ended it with him there.”

  “How did he take it?”

  “He was angry. He thought the relationship would lead to something more. He thought it would help him with his own issues.”

  “What issues?”

  “The war. He was dealing with much more stress from what he’d experienced than anyone knew. And there was his divorce. His daughter wouldn’t connect with him. In many ways he was lost.”

  “But you were on the brink of asking Cal for a separation. Our review of your calls and emails shows that you’d consulted a divorce lawyer. You just admitted you hated your husband.”

  “I know but—”

  “Our review of your personal bank accounts shows that months before your son vanished, you withdrew nearly six thousand dollars in cash. It was from your account so Cal wouldn’t have known about it. That amount is well under ten thousand, the threshold for which the bank would have to file a CTR, a currency transaction report on suspicious activity. Still, six thousand in cash comes in handy if you’re planning something that needs seed money, doesn’t it?”

  “My God, that was for a bathroom renovation. The contractor wanted cash before he canceled on us. I got a refund.”

  “We’ve got no record of the money going back into the account,” Malko said. “Let’s look at some other factors. What’s your relationship with Alma McCain and Sidney Griner?”

  “I’ve never heard those names.”

  “They were working at the Chambers when you reported Gage missing. Griner was on the chutes, McCain was inside on the control board. You talked to them.”

  Faith thought for a moment. “Then that’s all I know of them.”

  “They may have known Tate. I’m sure you’re aware that he was a former security consultant for the River Ridge Fairgrounds.”

  Faith stared at Malko, then Marsh and back. “What are you driving at?”

  “Given what we now know,” Malko said, “the possibility that a stranger took Gage at random is growing more and more unlikely.”

  “What are you insinuating?”

  “We think you needed Roy Tate for more than attention and affection.”

  “What?”

  “We think you were somehow involved in Gage’s disappearance.”

  “That’s crazy!”

  “Is it?” Malko nodded to Marsh, who set down more photographs. “Then why did we find the lock and chain that Cal bought at Roy Tate’s residence with your fingerprints, Tate’s fingerprints and Gage’s DNA all over them?”

  Faith gasped. “Oh God—is Gage dead? What happened?”

  “You tell us.” Malko stood. “You were there when Cal bought the chain. You were sobbing in the car. We know why he bought it but it wasn’t needed. What happened to it after that is a mystery, other than that we found it in Tate’s possession with your prints all over it. We don’t know the details, Faith, you do.”

  “I don’t know how it got there, but none of this makes any sense. I’m telling you I broke it off with Roy! I couldn’t go on. It’s true that I was contemplating separation, but for Gage’s sake and for my sake I needed to work things out with Cal. We would start talking about our problems but he wasn’t there, mentally—it was like he’d checked out of our relationship. He spent more time at work. As painful as that was, I was willing to do whatever it took because I believed we needed to save our marriage, to keep our family together. But as much as I tried with Cal, even after ending it with Roy, it was looking more and more futile. I was so torn on what to do.”

  “Stop lying to us, Faith. You had an affair with a man who is expert at tracking people and helping them disappear. A man who was also expert at security for the fairgrounds and the midway attractions. A man who by your own admission was desperate to start a new life with you!

  “And then we find Gage’s shoe in the Dumpster where Cal bought the lock and chain that we later find at Tate’s, with your and your son’s trace evidence on it! When are you going to start telling us what you did and who helped you to do it?”

  Faith felt the room spinning, thrust her face into her hands and sobbed.

  Malko and Marsh remained silent as her gasps bounced off the cold walls and her shoulders shook.

  A long moment passed, broken by a soft knock at the door.

  An FBI agent stuck his head in, ready to face Malko’s wrath for the interruption.

  “Something’s come up,” the agent said.

  47

  In the hall outside the intervie
w room Malko and Marsh looked at the images the agent was showing them on his phone.

  “These just came in, from the warrants.”

  Malko’s lower jaw tightened as he studied the photos. This was a break, another big piece. The agent handed him a folder with hard-copy prints of the images and notes.

  “And they’re expediting processing for trace and DNA analysis.”

  Malko tapped the folder in his hand, thinking and looking at the doors of the interview rooms. All the players were here—Cal, Faith and Tate.

  Marsh studied a new message on her phone and nodded to the door. “Tate’s got his lawyer in there with him now, Tibor.”

  “All right,” Malko said. “Let’s do this. We’ll start with Tate.”

  They entered the room. A man in a dark suit with glasses and a neatly trimmed beard halted his muted conversation with Tate. Their attention went to the agents, prompting the man in the suit to stand.

  “Mitchell Slotter, attorney for Mr. Tate. And you are?”

  “Agents Tibor Malko and Sue Marsh.”

  They sat. Slotter moved his briefcase to the floor beside the table and consulted his tablet.

  “I acknowledge Mr. Tate is still under the Miranda caution and take this time to inform the FBI that my client states that he has no involvement in the disappearance of Gage Hudson.”

  Malko said nothing as the lawyer continued.

  “Mr. Tate is prepared to cooperate with the investigation by answering your questions with me present to advise. He will also agree to submit to a polygraph examination in my presence.”

  Marsh’s eyebrows rose slightly.

  “Thank you,” Malko said, then looked directly at Tate. “So, Roy, you were banging Faith Hudson?”

  Slotter’s jaw dropped.

  “This is an outrageous question,” he said, “and I fail to see what bearing it has on the case.”

  Tate had no reaction and said, “We had an intimate relationship.”

  “And what did you hope that relationship would bring you?”

  “Don’t answer,” Slotter said. “I don’t see this as being relevant.”

  Malko ignored him. “Care to cooperate and answer, Roy?”