Because her description had been broadcast to the Nevada State Pblice, the FBI was immediately dispatched to the scene. Under fierce wind and rain, they managed to recover the cellular phone in the SUV. They immediately traced the vehicle to a rental agency where it had been rented by a man bearing a California driver's license identifying him as Carl Whitman. William's contact told him that when the DMV faxed their field office a copy of the license he was stunned. "It's him," he'd said as William sat in his car, rain pelting down on the windshield. "It's the same guy Lisa identified as Tim Murray. Beard's shaved off, but it's the same guy. He must've gotten a false ID."
An APB was out on Tim Murray, as well as the stillunidentified man seen in the bank surveillance video with Lisa. In addition, a still taken from video cameras at the Luxor was now being distributed. Brads description of the events of Lisa's abduction were fantastic but certainly credible. 'An old woman would be the perfect ruse," one of the agents told William. 'Nobody expects somebody who looks like their grandmother to be a cold-blooded killer. I mean… even criminals get old, Billy. This old lady's probably been involved in this shit for years!
The rainstorm was hindering search efforts, but the authorities were certain they would make progress by tomorrow Meanwhile, Lisa was in surgery, and once she regained consciousness and was able to talk, various law-enforcement personnel wanted to meet with her. William would be present, and he wanted to question Lisa himself on certain things. Once he got her by herself, he wanted to ask her questions about Frank.
William had received only one call from Phil, the private investigator he had hired. Phil had told William that the minute he had pulled into the neighborhood where Frank and Joan Miller lived to begin his surveillance, the couple left their home. 'I'm following them now,' he'd said. "Looks like they're heading out of town. What's up?"
That report had come in shortly after two. William had been sure Frank would leave the house, maybe meet up with Shectman. That hadn't happened. Instead, the Millers had gotten into their vehicle and driven straight to Las Vegas. Maybe Flank doesn't have anything to do with this, William thought. Maybe I'm just… being paranoid.
If he was being paranoid, he was doing a good job of it. He watched Bank out of the corner of his eyes, noted how the man was standing quietly at the window, looking out at the dazzling lights of the Las gas strip in the distance. William watched him, wondering what was going on in the man's head, trying to retrace his, steps. Then, telling himself it was now or never, he rose to his feet and approached Frank.
Flank turned around, smiled when he saw William. "Thanks for being here, Billy," Frank said.
William nodded. "It's the least I could do." He grasped Frank's elbow and motioned him away from the window. "Listen, can we talk in private?" His voice was lowered, serious. "Just the two of us?"
Frank's expression became serious. He nodded. "Sure, Bill."
The two men headed out of the waiting room. Joan called out: "Frank?"
Frank turned to his wife. "Bill and I are just taking a quick walk. We'll be right back, dear."
William waited until they were out of earshot. He motioned toward the snack bar. "I could use some coffee. How 'bout you?"
"Sure"
Coffee purchases were made from the dispensing machine, and once the cups were in hand, William nodded at Frank. "I've got… well, I've got some concerns I want to talk to you about, Frank." He started feeling nervous and he licked his lips, hating himself for it. Normally, he was fine when it came to confronting people. He did it all the time as a lawyer and he thrived on the atmosphere in the courtroom. But here? At the hospital, with Lisa Miller undergoing emergency surgery to save her life, he was going to confront her father-in-law with suspicions that he'd arranged her murder?
Was he losing his mind?
"I've been helping Brad deal with this the past few days," William began, taking a sip of coffee. "When Brad told me everything, I was… well, I was shocked. It's just-"
"It's just so unbelievable that people would be into such things," Frank Miller said, shaking his head. "I know It sickens me."
William glanced at Frank, noted his expression. Was Frank's expression of shock genuine? It was hard to tell. William pressed on. "Anyway, I… I employ the services of a lot of private detectives. I'm sure you know that. And I gave the details of the case to one of them and he went to work on it. I've also been working with law enforcement in California in helping to find the people that… you know… abducted Lisa in Ventura. Of course, we had no idea that what happened today was going to happen. I had Lisa and Brad sent out here for their safety, not knowing that-"
"How the hell did they find them?" Frank looked at William, open shock and horror in his features. "How the hell could these… these freaks find my son and Lisa and try to do what they failed to do in California?"
With rising doubt, William shook his head. "1 don't know, Frank. That's what I'm trying to find out."
"It just makes no sense," Frank continued. He took a sip of coffee. William noted that, as usual, Frank looked impeccable in his Gucci loafers, his polo shirt, his dark gray slacks. His wavy hair was slicked back, speckled with gray. A gold bracelet dangled from his wrist. He should be a criminal defense attorney, William thought, rubbing self-consciously at his own gold chain bracelet. "The only people that were supposed to know about Brad and Lisa being here were your people, us, and Lisa's parents! Who else could have found out?"
"I don't know," William said quickly."That's what we're trying to find out"
"1 know Brad hasn't talked to anybody in California since arriving here a few nights ago," Frank continued. "He asked us to start looking into getting psychiatric care for Lisa. I just don't see how anybody outside of our little circle could have-"
William tuned him out as a slow, dawning realization came to him. Lisa's boss, George Brooks. He had called just yesterday, wanting to get ahold of Lisa. Something about missing files. He'd needed to speak to Lisa desperately. And what had William done?
He'd given George their room number at the Luxor.
It can't be George, William thought. I know him. He's no more a sadist than I think Rank is. And as far as I know, he has no connection to Golgotha. The only way I can pin him to anything is that he had knowledge of where Lisa and Brad were holed up and-
"You okay, Billy?"
William started, looking at Frank. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
"Looked like you were letting your mind wander. I know this looks bad, but we're gonna,nail these bastards. Don't worry about it. I've been talking to one of the lead detectives on the case and-"
William spit it out. "I know the FBI hasn't questioned you yet, Flank, but I'm guessing they will soon because of your affiliation with Golgotha. That you know one of the board members, that he gave you a key to his place. I know all about it.'
Frank stopped talking, mouth gaping open in shock. He looked stunned.
William pressed on, feeling inspired. "Why didn't you come to me with this information before? When we found out?"
"When you found out?" Frank asked. "What do you mean, when you found out? How was I supposed to know that a man I'm friends with would be linked to a crime scene that my daughter-in-law was a victim of? My God, Billy! If I had known-"
"You would have told the authorities? If so, why didn't you?" William could feel himself getting on a roll now. He felt very much the way he did when he was in court cross-examining a witness. "You would have found out about the Golgotha cabin the same time Brad and I did, which was shortly after the FBI took Lisa up to Big Bear and she identified the place. I got her and Brad out of Orange County that evening, and here it's been over two days and you haven't said a word about it."
"Are you accusing me of setting this up? Is that what you're getting at?"
William stared at Frank. "I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm just saying that the circumstantial evidence is-"
"What? Overwhelming?" A red flush crept up Rank's neck. He looked p
issed off, but there was something about his eyes that gave off a hint of panic. Was he panicked because he had been found out or because he was scared that he was being framed?
"Yes. It's overwhelming."
"Bullshit!"
"Rank, listen to me" Flank had stood up and was walking back toward the waiting room. William caught up with him, their coffee cups left behind on the snack room table. "Just listen to me. If you aren't involved, fine. But the police are already nosing around. If they catch this Tim Murray guy and he corroborates any of the evidence they've found, there could be some serious implications-"
Frank stopped, whirled around so that he was facing William. "You are accusing me of arranging this, aren't you? You think I had something to do with it! You think / set up the murder of my daughter-in-law, that I hired a snuff pornographer to capture her rape and murder on videotape for whatever reason you've dreamed up in that sick little mind of yours. And you're coming to this conclusion because in Lisa's confusion and fear she misidentified the place she was taken to as the Golgotha cabin. That's it, right?-
"The FBI is still running tests on the evidence they found at that cabin," William said, "and you know it. If they don't find anything, great, but if they do, it might be wise for you to start thinking now about retaining the services of-"
"Of a lawyer. Right, Billy. I take it you're going to recommend your services to me, huh?"
He wasn't listening. William could see that Frank was furious. His face was beet red; his eyes were blazing pits of anger. He could feel the tension in the air, thick as butter. "You and I know that you were nowhere near that cabin that weekend," William hissed, meeting Frank's gaze. "1 saw you that weekend, Flank. I saw how Lisa's disappearance affected you. I saw how worried you were, and how worried you are now even though she's been found. I know you're not anywhere capable of-"
"77zen why are you accusing me of setting this up?" Frank shouted.
William started, the loudness of Frank's voice ringing in his ears. He looked around, saw a nurse coming down the hallway glance at them with a frown. William turned back to Flank, his heart pounding. "I'm not accusing you of anything! I'm just saying that the evidence that points to you is-"
"Overwhelming. There we go again!" Frank threw his hands up in the air, and there was something about hisdemeanor now that William would look back on later as odd. For despite Frank's obvious anger, William detected a hint of genuine fear coming off the man. It was a fear that said I've been caught. William had seen this behavior thousands of times in his career. He'd defended thousands of people in various criminal cases, and most of them were guilty-he'd known that going in. Yet he never coerced his clients into revealing their guilt or innocence; his job was to defend his clients, to ensure them a fair trial as outlined in the U.S. Constitution. And even though William had never outright asked his clients if they had committed the crime in question or not, they always volunteered their plea anyway: I didn't do it! It wasn't me! And they always made that plea with the same look and telltale body language signs that told William they were lying. Frank Miller's speech, the way he reacted to everything, told him all he needed to know. And with that epiphany came a sudden burst of revulsion.
William stared at Frank, mouth gaping open in horror, which he tried to rein in. "Oh my God," he said.
"What?" Frank barked.
As quickly as the feeling came William shook it off, hoping Frank didn't catch it. He didn't want Frank to know that he had gotten a sudden revelation.
That he was looking into the eyes of a man who was not only afraid but was lying.
He was lying to save his skin.
William stood straight, injecting a calm purpose in his voice and mannerism. "I'm sorry if I've offended you," he said, forging ahead with a new plan. "I just thought I would let you know and be honest about it. I don't want the police to see you as a suspect, Frank. But if you don't know what you're up against, how are you going to defend yourself if they come after you?"
That question spiked through the armor Frank had erected around himself. For a moment, the Teflon that Frank Miller wore slipped down briefly and William saw a scared, confused man standing in front of him. A scared, confused man who was afraid of being exposed for the monster he was.
Frank looked at him, the fear a faint hint in his eyes, and then it was quickly gone, the mask slipping back comfortably into place. "'T'hey won't come after me because you won't encourage them anymore, will you?"
"I'm not encouraging anybody, Frank, I'm trying to help your son and Lisa!"
Frank's mouth was open to say something, and he stopped. He nodded, his shoulders slumped slightly, as if he had seen his fate and was accepting it. "You're right," he said. For the first time, he looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry I made a scene. I know you're just trying to help. I just-"
William treaded carefully, choosing his words with precision. "'[hat's all I'm trying to do. Help your family. All I've done is help the police and the detectives with certain information I've been able to uncover. They're already investigating the underground S&M market, trying to get people to talk. I know they've talked to one guy already who they're considering a suspect."
Frank's head snapped up. 'They do? Who?"
"A guy named Rick Shectman." William watched closely for any sign of recognition on Flank's face; if Frank knew Shectman, he didn't show it. "He's got a record for peddling child smut, and it's rumored he'll film anything if the money is there. Including snuff films."
"Really." Frank's tone of voice was tinged with an inflection that suggested he had prior knowledge of Rick Shectman.
"Yeah," William said, trying to keep Rank calm. "And of course they're still working on identifying the guys who actually kidnapped Lisa. My guess is that they'll find them soon. Once Lisa comes out of surgery, she'll be talking. Your son's already given a good description of the woman who killed John and Titan, and we have witnesses that saw her with a guy that matched rim Murray. The pieces are failing into place. I'm sure Lisa will be able to tell us more by tomorrow. We're going to get these guys. You can trust me on this.'
Frank smiled, laid his hand on William's shoulder, his grip firm. "I know you will, buddy. That's why you're one of the best damn lawyers I know. Even if you do defend scum." He smiled.
William smiled back. As genuine as he wanted to believe Flank's smile and demeanor were, that sixth sense was telling him that there was something lurking beneath the surface. Something that had a dark soul and dark desires. "It's a dirty job, but somebody's got to do it"
Frank laughed.
They began walking down the hall toward the waiting room. Frank put his arm around William's shoulders. "Listen, I'm sorry about the way I reacted back there. I don't know what got over me. I guess… all the stress is just getting to me."
"It's okay," William said.
The waiting room was still another hundred yards away. Frank stopped and motioned toward the men's room door ahead of them, on the right. "Listen, why don't you go back to the waiting room and see what's up. I gotta pee and wash up. All that yelling made me sweat." He grinned. William laughed. Sweat dotted Flank's brow and was shining in his hair. He hadn't noticed how badly Flank had sweated; it was literally beading on him like water on a freshly waxed car. Dark wet patches had appeared along the underarms of his shirt.
Another sign of guilt? William nodded. "Yeah, sure, Frank. Take your time. And listen, I'm sorry if I came across as being… well, accusatory. I didn't mean it"
They shook hands, Flank's gaze meeting Williams. Flank's smile was pensive. "I know you didn't." Then he turned and headed to the men's room.
William walked to the waiting room, his heart racing. He felt the flesh along the back of his neck ripple in gooseflesh. A shudder of cold fear enveloped his system. Something about Frank's demeanor was really bothering him. He had defended a lot of bad people in his life: gang members who didn't care that they had inadvertently blown the head off a three-year-old while they had been aiming
at a rival; child molesters who feigned repentance but went right back out again and committed other heinous acts upon children when they were released from prison; rapists who took delight in terrifying and abusing their victims. It was a dirty job, but somebody had to do it. Those accused of crimes,had the right to defend themselves in a court of law-anybody who had cruised through a course in U.S. government knew that. William had defended his share of clients who he knew in his heart were innocent of the charges brought against them. It was this motivating factor for being involved in criminal defense-to protect and defend the wrongly accused. Yes, there were times when he had to defend scum; it was part of the territory. But of all the people he had defended that he had the feeling were guilty of the crimes in which they had been charged, none had ever creeped him out as much as Frank Miller just had. Looking into Frank's eyes was like looking into the face of evil itself. He thought he had known Frank Miller; he had been proven wrong.
Halfway back to the waiting room, William got the sudden urge to head to the men's room. He didn't have to relieve himself; instead, he had the strong feeling that something was going to happen, that Frank was going to do something and that he had to somehow stop him.
William raced back down the hall and entered the men's room, and at first what he saw was so surprising his first reaction was to gasp in surprise. He felt his breath freeze as Frank Miller, who was standing with his back to the lone urinal with a gun to his head, looked up at William's sudden intrusion and, seeing him, took the gun away from his head and pointed it at William.
"Flank, no!" William cried, barely aware of the door to the restroom dosing behind him. The look on Flank Miller's face before he pointed the gun at him was one of surprise and despair. He was breathing heavily, his arms trembling as he held the gun on William.
Survivor Page 31
