Dawn pulled out her ID and showed it to the girl. “In answer to your first question, I'm Detective Dawn Cimarron. And this,” she added as Rafe entered the room, “is my partner, Sergeant Rafe Melbourne. And your name is?”
“Maya Shilltoe. Lee's my roommate. And my friend.”
“Okay. Maya, can you tell me Lee's full name and address?”
“Leanne Zarafin. But she goes by Lee. We live in the Wharfe Apartments, right off campus. The address is 150 Franklin Avenue. Apartment 4B.”
“What about her parents? We'll have to get in touch with them.”
“Her father died a couple of years ago. Colon cancer. Lee was pretty broken up about it. Her mother's name is Vivian Zarafin. She still lives here in Mountpelier.”
“You know how we can get in touch with her?”
“I have her number, but contacting Vivian won't do you any good. It's Monday morning. She's probably been on a bender all weekend. You'll have to wait for her to dry out before you'll get anything that even resembles a sensible answer out of her. Besides, she's the last person who would know where Lee is. Lee hasn't spoken to her mother in months.”
Maya paused for a minute, picked up a bottle of water from the table in front of her, and sipped. Then she continued, “When her dad was alive, her mother wasn't too bad, but after he died, Vivian went completely out of control. That's why Lee moved out as soon as she graduated from high school last May. She just couldn't take it anymore.”
“Her mother is still the next of kin. We'll need her contact information.”
“Hang on - I've got her phone number right here.” Maya pulled out her cell phone and rattled off the number from her contact list.
“Thank you, Maya. Now, what about your living situation? Do you have any other roommates?”
“No, it's just the two of us. At first I was going to live by myself. I like my privacy, and my dad is paying the bills, so I can afford it. But then Lee needed a place to stay. She's one of the few people I could actually stand the thought of living with, so I let her move in. She helps out with the rent, the utilities, things like that. I told her she didn't have to, on account of my dad's taking care of everything, but she insisted. Lee's like that.”
“Okay. Maya, how old is Lee? What about her date of birth?”
“Well, let me think... Her birthday is December twenty-first. She's eighteen, almost nineteen.”
“How long have you known Lee?”
“About four years now. We were freshmen in high school. I was new in town, and Lee took me under her wing.” Maya smiled reminiscently. “I was a little shy back then.”
“What about a physical description, Maya? We have a photograph of Lee with Will, but it's in black and white and it isn't full length. Can you give me her approximate height and weight?”
“Height? She's taller than I am – maybe about 5'8 or 5'9? And she watches her weight. She tries to stay between 124-127 pounds.”
“Hair and eye color?”
“She has blonde hair. Her eyes are blue.”
“Okay. Now, when did you last see Lee?”
“On Thursday. She was all excited. She was going camping for the weekend with Will.”
“Can you tell me what she was wearing?”
“Well, she had on these skinny black boot-cut jeans that made her legs look like a mile long and a sort of fuchsia-colored tank top. She was wearing black boots and her black leather coat. I told her that she was crazy, dressing like that for a camping trip at this time of year, but she just laughed. She had other clothes in her bag – more practical things, you know? But it wasn't just a camping trip; it was a date. She said that she wasn't planning on staying in those particular clothes very long, and Will would keep her warm.”
“How long had she been seeing Will?”
“Just for a few months. They met in late July or early August – I can't remember which. Lee got a flat tire on her way home from work. She doesn't have a road service like Triple A or anything, and she couldn't afford to call a tow truck. So she was really grateful when Will pulled up and offered to change the tire for her. She asked him to come back here afterward, made him something to eat to sort of thank him, you know? And he asked her out for a date. They clicked right away, and they've been together ever since.”
“What about prior relationships? Ex-boyfriends?”
“Well, there was Jason. Jason Lostuck. She went out with him all through our senior year at high school, until she caught him cheating on her right after graduation. She ended it then.”
“How did he take it? Was he upset?”
“Oh, no. He just shrugged it off. In fact, he's still seeing the other girl. Last I heard, they were engaged.”
“What about before that, Maya? Did she date anyone else in high school? And what about the time between breaking up with Jason and getting together with Will?”
“Let me think. She went with Chad Colnie for a while. Before that, it was Dorian Hotler. But she wasn't serious about either of them.”
“Maya, my next question may sound a little strange, but trust me, it's important. Can you tell me if Lee had a favorite kind of beer that she liked to drink?”
“Beer? Not really. If we're at a party, she'll pretty much drink whatever they have. She's not choosy. But she does have a limit. Two beers. No more. You can't get her to drink any more for love or money. Probably has something to do with her mother.”
“Thank you. Now, Maya – has Lee been worried about anything, lately? Like someone hanging around who didn't seem to belong, who made her uncomfortable?”
“You mean like a stalker or something?”
Dawn nodded.
“No, nothing like that. It's pretty much been business as usual. I go to class, Lee goes to work at Martine’s Beauty Stop. That's a day spa and salon down on 21st Street. Lee's a hair stylist. She does nails, too, and she's really good at it. She did mine just before she left to go camping with Will.” Maya looked down at her hands, studying fingernails painted a deep blue and studded with tiny gold beads that marched down the center of each nail. “What else can I tell you? I like to party on the weekends, but Lee hasn't gone along with me that much for the last couple of months. She likes to spend all of her free time with Will, and he's just not into that.”
Maya dragged her gaze away from her nails and focused her dark brown eyes on Dawn. “I'm just rambling on. I can't seem to think straight. It's all so confusing, so unbelievable. And why are you asking me all these questions? I thought Lee had an accident or got lost or something. What's going on?”
“We're not sure, Maya, so we have to explore every possibility. And it would help if you would allow us to look around your apartment. We'd like to take a look at Lee's computer, look at her Facebook page, see if she kept a journal or something that would help us out. She may have noted something in there that might help us. And we might want to take her hairbrush or toothbrush with us. Would you have any objection to that?”
Maya's eyes grew even wider and rounder than before. She was no fool. She understood the significance of the request for the hairbrush and toothbrush.
“You think Lee is dead. You want that stuff for DNA,” she said flatly.
“We're not sure of anything, Maya. We just need to follow the protocols for situations like this.”
Maya fumbled in her pockets, produced a key ring, and pulled one of the keys off.
“Here's my key. My bedroom's the one on the left. Lee's is on the right. There's a toothbrush holder in the bathroom. Lee's is the green one. Mine is pink. Take whatever you need. Anything to help find Lee.” She paused for a moment, then added, “The password to her computer – she has it written down, in case she forgets. It's on a bookmark in the volume of poetry she keeps on the nightstand next to her bed. She doesn't have a Facebook page. Lee's very protective of her privacy. I can't imagine that she keeps a journal, either. Same reason.”
Dawn reached out and took the key. “Thank you for all of your help, Maya. We'l
l see that the key is returned to you as soon as we are finished. In the meantime, would you leave us your contact information? And what are your plans for today?”
“I'll give you my cell phone number. I've got classes from ten until four, but I'm not budging from this spot until I find out what's happened to Lee. She's my best friend. That's more important than keeping my grades up. Besides, she'd want me to stay with Will.” Maya reached out and took Naomi Preisinger's hand. “If you find anything out, you'll know where to find me.”
No one was answering the phone at the Zarafin house. Vivian's cell phone was going straight to voice mail as well, so Dawn and Rafe dispatched two patrol officers to drive over to the house and see if they could contact Lee's mother in person. However, there was no sign of Vivian Zarafin. Her car was not in the driveway, and inquiries among the neighbors yielded no results. The only thing to do was have the officers check back periodically and wait for her to show up.
The hospital wasn't that far from Maya and Lee's apartment, so they decided to stop there next. Using the key that Maya had provided, they let themselves into the apartment. They found themselves in a fairly spacious living/dining area, with a galley-style kitchen off to the left.
“I'll take this room and the kitchen,” Rafe said. “Why don't you start on Lee's room?”
The bedroom on the right contained a single bed with a nightstand next to it against the right-hand wall. On the left side stood a small desk, with an old-fashioned desktop computer on it. Neatly made, the comforter on the bed was decorated with a geometric pattern in dark pink and dull gold, surrounded by a wide border in cocoa brown. A dust ruffle of pink and cocoa stripes flowed down from the box springs to the floor below. Pillows in a variety of shapes were carefully arranged against the headboard.
Walking over to the far side of the bed, Dawn found the volume of poetry, an illustrated copy of William Blake's Songs of Innocence and Experience. The bookmark fell out as she picked the book up. She put the book back on the nightstand and retrieved the bookmark from the floor. The computer password was written on it as promised. Dawn crossed the room to the desk and placed the bookmark next to the computer. On a dresser against the other wall, she spotted a hairbrush. Crossing over to that side of the room, she lifted it with a gloved hand and carefully sealed it in an evidence bag. Then she moved into the bathroom and did the same with the green toothbrush from the toothbrush holder. Returning to the bedroom, she sat down at the desk, booted up the computer, and began skimming through the files.
“Find anything interesting?” Rafe asked as he entered the room.
She shook her head without bothering to turn around. “Not much. Projects and papers, obviously from when she was still in high school. Some saved searches on financial aid and scholarship opportunities for college. A budget planner, her resume, some cover letters to go along with it. A list of consignment, thrift and resale stores in the area. Let me click on her pictures file next.”
Rafe leaned over her shoulder to look as she scrolled through the pictures that Lee had downloaded. “Not that many. Mostly of her and Maya or her and Will. One or two of her with an older man – probably her father. None of her with anyone who looks like she could be the mother.”
Dawn nodded. A clearer picture of the missing girl was forming in her head. “She wasn't extravagant. She had her budget planned out and lived well within her means. She'd made a break from her family and was trying to build a new life for herself. No college yet, but she's making inquiries, planning for the future.”
Dawn moved away from the computer and checked the dresser, the closet. She fished a few receipts out of the wastepaper basket. “She has some nice clothes, but not new ones. Looks like she got most of her stuff from consignment and resale shops. Good way to look like a million bucks without spending a lot of money. Wasn't too proud to wear second-hand clothes. Smart and practical.”
“Keeps her space tidy as well,” Rafe remarked. “I glanced into Maya's room after I finished in the living room and kitchen. Place looks like a hurricane hit it.”
Dawn nodded and returned to sit down at the desk again. She scrolled through the pictures again, stopping at one of Lee by herself, sitting on a railing, laughing, her hair blowing in the wind. Something about the girl was tugging at the strings of her heart. She pushed the feelings down ruthlessly. Too much emotion had no place in an investigation of this sort. She needed to remain cool and professional. Deliberately, she closed the picture file and shut down the computer. Rising from the chair, she took one long last look around, trying to see if there was anything they had missed.
“We done here?” Rafe asked. When she nodded, he said, “Let's get out of here then. We're due to talk to Lee's employer next.”
The salon where Lee worked was closed that day, but the owner, Martine Rothay, had agreed to come in and meet with them once she had learned that Lee was missing.
She must have been watching for them, for the door of the salon flew open even before they reached it. Martine, a tall forty-something woman, had a rather square face, dominated by huge, heavily made up dark eyes framed by bronze hair cut into a stylish angled bob. She invited them in, offered them coffee, and sank into a chair in the waiting area of the salon. In answer to their questions, she said, “I haven't seen Lee since she left here after her shift on Wednesday night. She asked me about two weeks ago if she could take a couple of vacation days, and I was happy to oblige. Girl hasn't taken a day off since she started working here. Not a single sick day. You know, she got her license at the age of seventeen by enrolling in a Vo-tech program when she was still in high school, and she started working for me part-time even before she graduated. She's really good, and the customers all like her, so I was happy to offer her a full-time job when she graduated. Employees like that girl are worth their weight in gold. And Lee – she's special.”
Martine reached down absently to straighten a pile of magazines before she continued. “She's crazy about that new boyfriend of hers - Will. They haven't been going out that long – just a few months – but she seems really happy. And so excited about going camping with him this weekend. Me? I'd rather pack up and go somewhere warm than go camping in Colorado in the fall, but Lee thought it would be romantic. And she said they could keep each other warm.”
Dawn took the lead in questioning Martine, asking her basically the same questions that they had asked Lee's roommate. But Martine did not have much information to add. Lee had seemed perfectly normal when she had last seen her. And no, she hadn't noticed anyone unfamiliar around who was paying undue attention to Lee.
After they had left Martine Rothay, Dawn and Rafe spent the rest of the morning canvassing the local real estate offices. Armed with Barbara's sketch, they made the rounds. Finally, after hours of pounding the pavement, they caught a break. One of the agents, a man named Trevor Stoss, thought he recognized the man in the sketch.
“It was a few weeks ago,” he said. “This guy who looks a lot like the man in the sketch comes around looking for a house to rent. He was really specific about what he wanted, and the only one I had that matched his requirements was a house that had just come on the market. At first he seemed pleased. It was a small, two-bedroom place, with an attached garage and a finished basement. But then he said that the garage was too small and that the basement wasn't nice enough. Well, the garage was described as being a two-car deal, but they would have to be pretty small cars. It's really more of a one and one half car garage, you see? Bigger than a single, but not quite big enough to really be described as a two-car garage. And the basement? He wanted one with a bathroom down there, and then he complained that there wasn't enough light. It's a basement, right? It's underground. What was he expecting? A sun room?”
“Did you see him again after that?” Rafe inquired.
“No, he didn't come back. Guess he found what he wanted through some other agency.”
“Do you remember his name?”
“Can't say as I do. He was a w
alk-in, so I never wrote it down in my appointment book.”
“What about an address?”
“Never got that far. If he'd wanted the house, I would have had him fill out all the forms, but just an inquiry? No. Clients looking for a house to rent want to start right away. Make them stop and fill out a bunch of forms first, they could decide to walk away, find somebody else.”
“What about a phone number?”
“He didn't leave one. I pressed him for it, but he said no, he'd be in touch with me.”
“What about his car? Do you remember what kind of car he was driving?”
“Let me think. It was a truck, actually, not a car. A full-size pick-up truck. American-made, not foreign. Maybe a Chevy Silvarado or a Dodge Ram?”
“Color?”
“Nothing flashy. Kind a beige color, I think.”
“Older, newer?”
“Didn't look brand new. Looked like it had some miles on it. Look, I really wasn't paying much attention to his ride, okay?”
“Okay. What about the guy himself? Anything else strike you about him?”
Trevor Stoss pushed his glasses back up on his nose and considered. “He didn't say much. Pleasant enough, but not talkative.”
“Any unusual quirks or habits?”
“Not that I recall. Look, I have an appointment in a few minutes. I need to get going.”
“Okay. Here's my card. Call me if you remember anything else.”
As Stoss hurried away, Rafe turned to Dawn. “He wanted a large, two car garage.”
Dawn nodded. “And a basement with a bathroom and a lot of light. Because he's an artist? Why not just convert one of the upstairs rooms into a studio?”
“Easier to turn a basement into a prison. And if he needs a prison...”
Dawn finished it for him: “There's a chance that Lee is still alive.”
Chapter 7
Michael had hardly been able to contain himself when the girl had asked him to tell her more about Vanadis. None of the others had understood the way this one did. They had cried and argued and pleaded, refusing to acknowledge the truth. But this incarnation of his goddess – she had some glimmer of understanding. He'd been working on a sketch right then, but he'd laid it aside for the time being and responded to her question eagerly.
When the Tiger Kills Page 13
