The Vanished
Page 5
“Were you in Ardmore Park last Friday?” Barton asked Eddie.
“Yes, sir,” Eddie replied.
Barton hesitated, then said, “Okay, Ed, follow me.”
When they sat down in the interview room, the detective took a voice recorder from his jacket pocket, switched it on, and pressed the Record button. Then he placed the recorder in front of Eddie and asked, “What’s your name?”
“Eddie. Edward Hicks.”
“Were you in Ardmore Park on May sixth?”
“Yes.”
Barton pulled Annie’s picture from the folder and showed it to Eddie. “Did you see this girl in the park?”
Eddie stared at the photo for a long moment and then replied, “Yeah, I saw her. She was going somewhere with some woman.”
“What time did you see them?”
“Around four. The woman was leading this girl by the hand.”
“Was the girl resisting the woman?”
“It didn’t seem that she was.”
“Did you see where they went?”
“No.”
“Can you describe this woman?”
“Average height, long brown hair. She had sunglasses on, so I didn’t really see her face.”
“How old did she look?”
“Thirty, thirty-five.”
“Did you see David Miller in the park that day?”
“You mean her father? Yeah, I saw him. He was looking for this girl, and I told him I saw her. He was really freaked out.”
“How long have you known David Miller?”
“I don’t know him. I only met him twice, last Friday and today.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me about Annie Miller’s disappearance?”
“No, sir.”
Barton pushed the Stop button on the voice recorder and said, “Thanks for coming, Mister Hicks.”
3
When Eddie came out to the lobby, David asked him where he wanted to go.
“Take me back to the park,” Eddie said.
In the car, before he started the engine, David extracted five twenty-dollar bills from his wallet and gave them to Eddie.
“I forgot to ask. What’s your last name?” David said as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“Hicks.”
“Can you give me your cellphone number, in case I need to get in touch with you?”
“I don’t have a cell.”
“Do you have an email address?”
“Yeah.”
David handed Eddie his cellphone and said, “Can you please save it in Contacts?”
“Okay.”
“Do you live in Plano?”
“I mostly live in Dallas.”
“Can you tell me your address? Just in case.”
“I don’t really have a permanent address. I’m staying with my friends.” Eddie gave the phone back to David. “I saved my email address under my name.”
“Thank you.”
After he dropped Eddie off, David drove home.
He was dying to know what Barton thought about the information he’d gotten from Eddie. At six o’clock curiosity got the better of David, and he dialed Barton’s number.
“This is David Miller again,” he said when the detective answered the call. “Do you have a second?”
“Yes.”
“I’m calling about Eddie Hicks. Did he tell you about the woman that took my daughter away?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Do you believe me now?”
“What do you mean?”
“That woman kidnapped Annie. My daughter was kidnapped. Do you believe that now?”
After a silence, Barton said, “How do I know that woman’s not your accomplice?”
David breathed a frustrated sigh. He’d had no expectations, but he still felt disappointed.
At least he didn’t say Eddie made it all up.
It didn’t mean he wasn’t thinking it.
“Are your guys finished with our cars yet?” he asked.
“No. You’ll get your cars back tomorrow morning, I promise.”
The good news was that his efforts were not in vain: Eddie was going to be a defense witness at his trial.
4
As Alicia set the table for dinner, David asked her if any knives were missing from the kitchen. The housekeeper said that all the knives were in place.
When they sat down at the table, Carol asked where David had been all afternoon. He told her about his trip to Ardmore Park and Eddie’s meeting with Barton.
“By the way, did Barton call you today?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“What time did he call?”
“Around two.”
Why hadn’t Carol told him that she had spoken to Barton when he came home?
Because Barton told her about my confession, and she doesn’t want to discuss this subject with me.
“What did you talk about?”
“He asked me if you were a violent person, if you had ever hit me or Annie.”
“What did you say to him?”
“I said that you were not a violent person and that you had never hit me or Annie.”
“What else did he ask you?”
“Nothing else.”
“He didn’t ask you if I had second thoughts about Annie’s adoption?”
“No.”
David took a sip of water from his glass and said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to talk to the detective.”
It sounded hypocritical coming from someone who used to work in law enforcement, but David didn’t care. He had never claimed to be a saint.
“Okay. I won’t talk to him again.”
“You’re not required to answer his questions.”
Carol nodded without saying anything.
“We need to work as a team. And you know what? We make a great team.”
He realized that he didn’t believe Carol. She was holding something back about her latest conversation with Detective Barton. She was holding a lot back. Why was she doing it? Had the detective succeeded in turning her against him?
He had no right to criticize Carol because he hadn’t told her about his confession. And he had lied about his polygraph test results.
Was Carol ever going to talk to him about his confession?
Perhaps she was waiting for him to tell her about it.
Chapter 5
1
Thursday morning, David called his friend Chris Upton, who was a civil litigation attorney, and asked if he could recommend a good criminal lawyer.
“Aaron Brady,” Chris replied. “He’s a fine criminal lawyer with a great reputation.”
Aaron Brady was a partner at Stewart, Brady & Mayer, a medium-sized firm located in downtown Dallas. David met him in his office on the thirty-ninth floor of the Renaissance Tower.
Brady was fifty-eight years old, slender, and had a deeply receding hairline. Thick, fuzzy brows framed his brown eyes, which radiated wisdom and confidence. He told David that, when he was a teenager, one of his favorite pastimes was developing lines of defense for the killers in Columbo, which he said was usually not a hard thing to do since most of the cases were based on flimsy evidence (David believed it was true for virtually every detective TV show).
When the small talk was over, David asked, “How many murder cases have you tried?”
“Twenty three,” Brady said.
“How many have you won?”
“Eighteen.”
“Have you ever tried a murder case where the victim was a child?”
“Yes. I’ve tried two such cases. I got an acquittal both times.”
David held out his hand to Brady and said, “You’re hired.”
The lawyer shook his hand. “Thank you, David.”
David took out his checkbook and asked, “How much is your retainer fee?”
“What kind of case is it?”
“Murder. Capital murder.”
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
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David wrote a check for fifty thousand dollars and handed it to Brady. The lawyer glanced at the check, put it in his jacket pocket, and then instructed his assistant to prepare the paperwork.
Congratulations, Mister Miller! You lawyered up!
Yes, he lawyered up, which was one of the things that made a person look guilty.
What were the chances that the district attorney’s office would not bring charges against him? He believed they were very slim.
If he were the prosecutor handling this case, would he have filed charges?
He would have waited until the body was found. Taking a weak case to court was a bad idea because the state couldn’t retry an acquitted defendant even if it discovered proof of his guilt.
“Do you know any good private investigators?” David asked after he signed the retainer agreement. “I need someone who’s good at finding missing people.”
Brady recommended Daley Investigative Services.
When he left Brady’s office, David called Daley Investigative Services and made an appointment with its owner, Vincent Daley, for tomorrow morning.
Later that afternoon, David and Carol went to the Plano Police Department to take their cars back. They had three vehicles to pick up, and to avoid making two trips, David hired a tow truck to haul the third car.
He didn’t tell Carol about his meeting with Aaron Brady: he didn’t want her to worry more than she already did.
2
Vincent Daley was a broad-shouldered man with dark deep-set eyes, a slightly aquiline nose, and a strong jaw. He was clean-shaven and wore a well-pressed white dress shirt. His gray suit coat hung over the back of his chair.
“What can I do for you, Mister Miller?” Vincent asked after David refused his offer of a drink.
“My daughter was kidnapped last Friday, and I want you to find her. You might have seen her picture on TV. Her name’s Annie. Annie Miller.”
Vincent nodded. “Yes, I think I saw it. Five years old, brown hair.”
David took out Annie’s photo and put it on the desk before Vincent. “This is Annie.”
Looking at the picture, Vincent said, “Have the kidnappers contacted you?”
“No.”
“Are you a wealthy man?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think she was kidnapped for ransom?”
“I used to think so, but now I don’t. It’s been a week, and we haven’t heard from them yet.”
“What are the police saying? Do they have any leads?”
“No, they have no leads. They think I… They think I killed her.”
The investigator raised his eyebrows and leaned forward.
He’s probably wondering why the police suspect me of killing my daughter.
“Have you been formally charged?” Vincent asked.
“No.”
“Did you take a lie detector test?”
“Yes. I failed it.”
Should he tell Vincent about the knife the police had found in Ardmore Park and the confession he had made under hypnosis?
No. What good would it do?
“How was Annie kidnapped?”
“It happened in the parking lot of Ardmore Park around three o’clock. I believe they took her a few seconds after she got out of the car. I think they followed us from our house to the park.”
“Were you in the car when it happened?”
“Yes. I didn’t see anything because I was looking at my phone.”
“Were there any witnesses?”
“No.”
Vincent picked up a pen and began to tap it on the desk. “I will take this case, but I can’t make any promises.”
“I understand.”
Vincent opened a desk drawer and produced a yellow legal pad. “Where do you live?”
“Plano.”
“What’s the name of the detective assigned to your daughter’s case?”
“Ray Barton.”
Vincent jotted the name down. “Is he with the Plano PD?”
“Yes. Are you going to talk to him? He doesn’t think Annie was kidnapped.”
“No. I’m going to request copies of the police reports. Does Annie have a history of mental illness?”
“No. But she has epilepsy.”
“I need a copy of her medical records.”
“Okay. I’ll give it to you tomorrow.”
“What medication is she on?”
“Dilantin and Tegretol.”
“Are there any custody issues?”
“No. I don’t know if it matters, Annie’s adopted.”
“Adopted? Do you know who Annie’s biological parents are?”
“No. Why?”
“They might be the kidnappers. It’s not likely, but you never know.”
Why hadn’t he thought of this before? Abductions of adopted children by biological parents did occur once in a while, so the theory wasn’t far-fetched at all.
“Are you going to find them?” David asked.
“Yes. What adoption agency did you use?”
“Adoptions Unlimited. It’s in Dallas.”
“Have you offered a reward?”
“Yes, we have.”
“Does your daughter use the Internet?”
“No.”
Vincent leaned back and said, “Who do you think took your daughter?”
David hesitated, then said, “Maybe it was a childless couple.”
“A childless couple?” Vincent paused. “I doubt a childless couple would kidnap a child older than three, but I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’m sure she’s still alive.”
The truth, of course, was that David wasn’t sure of that at all.
3
On the drive home, David decided that he had to tell Carol about the knife and his confession. First, it was the right thing to do; and second, there was really no harm in that because Carol loved and trusted him.
He figured today was as good a time as any to have this conversation. Around noon, when she was in the great room reading a book, David sat down next to Carol and said, “I need to tell you something.”
Carol put down the book and looked at him. “What is it?”
Holding nothing back, he told her about his hypnosis session with Dr. Weil and the knife.
“Barton told me about it last Wednesday,” Carol said when he finished.
“He did?”
“Why did you wait so long to tell me?”
“It’s only been three days.”
“Why are your fingerprints on that knife?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did you say that you killed her when you were under hypnosis?”
“I don’t know.”
Carol’s face flushed red.
“I think you know,” she said. “You were the last one to see Annie alive. You know what happened to her.”
“You think I killed Annie? You think I killed my own daughter?”
David’s heart began to race, he was choking with indignation.
“You confessed. And there are your fingerprints on that knife.”
“The confession is fantasy. I was under hypnosis, remember?”
“People tell the truth when they’re under hypnosis.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“What about the knife? The knife is not fantasy. The knife is real.” Carol was almost shouting when she said the last three words; her eyes were bright with anger. For a moment David thought she was going to attack him.
“To hell with the knife! You’re my wife, Carol. You know me. You know I’m not a killer. You know I’m not capable of this! You’re supposed to believe me, Carol. You’re supposed to be on my side!”
“I want to believe you.”
“I love Annie. I would never hurt her, you know that.”
“You loved Brian, too, and look what happened to him! Brian’s dead. Because of you!” Tears welled up in Carol’s eyes. “Because of you my boy’s dead. I can’t trust you, Davi
d! I can’t count on you!” She collapsed onto the loveseat, covered her face with her hands, and started crying. “My sweet little boy… My son’s dead. Poor boy. This is so unfair!”
David put his arms around Carol and said, “Brian’s in a better place now. He’s in heaven with God.”
These trite words of consolation didn’t allay his sorrow when he heard them, and he didn’t expect that they would make Carol feel better, either.
“Fuck heaven,” Carol said, sobbing and shaking. “I want him here with me.”
David felt a hard lump rise in his throat. “Me, too.”
“I miss him so much.”
“I miss him, too.”
Carol wiped at her eyes with her fingertips, sighed heavily, and stood up. “I want to believe you, Dave, but… What would you do in this situation? Would you believe I’m innocent if the fingerprints on that knife were mine?”
“Of course I would.” David rose to his feet. “I think the kidnappers stole that knife from our kitchen. That’s how my fingerprints got on it.”
“They stole it? Why?”
“To set me up.”
“To set you up?”
“If the police believe I killed Annie, they’ll stop looking for her. They’ll stop looking for the kidnappers, and that’s what these people want.”
“But how did you know where the knife was?”
That was a very interesting question. Why had it never occurred to him before?
“I have no idea. Maybe it was a lucky guess.”
Lucky guess. It was a fairly plausible explanation.
They stood in silence for a while, and then Carol said, “Do you think she’s dead?”
“No.”
“There was her blood on that knife.”
“They put it there to set me up.”
Carol chewed on her lower lip. “I really want to believe you.”
“You have to believe me because I’m telling you the truth.”
“Do you think the jury will believe you?”
“I don’t know. Juries are unpredictable. If I go to prison, I want you to keep looking for Annie until you find her.”
Carol nodded. “Okay.”
She didn’t sound like she meant it. He would talk to her about this again next week.
David took Carol’s face in his hands, kissed her on the lips, and said, “I love you.”