The Vanished

by Tim Kizer

  David opened the passport to the information page and read the name: James Parsons. He recalled that his fake driver’s license was in James Parsons’s name, too. He flipped through the document and found a Mexican customs stamp on the first visa page dated May 17. There were no other stamps in the passport.

  “Does it have all the security features?” David asked.

  “Yes.”

  They went down to the front desk, checked out, then got in the car and drove to Hospital San Jose Tec to give Kemper ten thousand dollars. After leaving the hospital, they headed back to Texas. They got rid of the guns bought from Oscar as they passed through the Gonzalitos neighborhood: they dumped them into a garbage container behind a restaurant on Highway 85.

  Chapter 11

  1

  They returned to the United States the same way they had left, through the Laredo—Nuevo Laredo crossing.

  “Are you nervous?” Vincent asked when they entered the border state of Tamaulipas.

  “A little,” David said.

  “Relax, you’ll be fine. Just look calm and don’t do anything weird.”

  What was the maximum sentence for using a false passport?

  If memory served, it was ten years for the first offense.

  “Is your watch really fifteen grand?” Vincent asked.

  David nodded.

  “That’s a nice watch.”

  When they drove into Nuevo Laredo, Vincent announced that he was going to take the Juarez-Lincoln Bridge to cross the border.

  There are probably a lot of people in this town who sold their organs on the black market, David thought as he stared out the window.

  It was seven o’clock when they arrived at the border inspection station. Every northbound lane of the Juarez-Lincoln Bridge was packed with vehicles. The lines were long, but not intimidatingly long. Vincent estimated that they would get to the checkpoint in about thirty minutes.

  David lowered the volume on the stereo until it was silent, and said, “What are you going to do next? Do you have a plan?”

  “Are you talking about the investigation?”

  “Yes.”

  “My guys have been checking the residences of the sex offenders that live in your area. There are a few addresses left to check, and I’m going to pay them a visit.”

  “Do you have any other theories?”

  “No. Let’s hope the kidnappers contact you.”

  When they pulled up to the border patrol booth, Vincent rolled down his window, letting in hot air and the smells of exhaust fumes and rubber. The border agent, who was standing in the doorway of the booth, glanced inside the car and said, “How are you doing, sir? How many people are traveling with you?”

  “One.” Vincent offered his and David’s passports to the agent, and the agent took them.

  David licked his lips, his heart pounding like a jackhammer and his stomach churning wildly.

  Was the agent going to run their passports through the scanner—or whatever that device was called?

  In his mind, David could hear the agent ordering Vincent to go to the secondary inspection area.

  He drew a deep breath through his nose. He felt he was succeeding in projecting an air of nonchalance.

  After the agent finished examining the passports, he looked at David through the driver’s window.

  “Thank you, sir.” The agent returned the passports to Vincent. “Welcome back.”

  “Thank you.” Vincent slipped the passports in his shirt pocket and pressed the gas pedal.

  When the car began to pick up speed, David let out a huge sigh of relief.

  “See? I told you you’d be fine.” Vincent grinned.

  David laughed cheerfully and high-fived Vincent. “Thank you, Vince.”

  2

  Carol was up when David arrived home. She reheated the leftover lasagna for him, and while he was eating, she asked where he had been.

  “Phoenix,” David replied.

  “What were you doing there? What did you need Annie’s DNA profile for?”

  “I thought I found a lead. I was wrong.”

  “Why did you turn off your phone?”

  “The battery died.”

  Carol put her hand on his and said, “Are you okay?”

  David looked at his wife. There was a somber expression on Carol’s face. David could see dark circles under her eyes.

  “I’m fine,” David replied. “I wasn’t with another woman, if that’s what you want to know.”

  “Honey, I didn’t think you were with another woman.”

  “Do you want to talk about the lie detector test? The hypnosis? You want to ask me if I killed Annie?”

  “No.” Frowning, Carol took her hand away. “Dave, did I say something wrong? Why are you so… tense?”

  “I’m just tired.” He paused and then added, “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t care about the lie detector test. And I don’t care about the knife and the confession. I believe you, Dave. I know you didn’t kill Annie.”

  David ate a bite of lasagna and said in a flat voice, “I’m afraid we’ll never see Annie again.”

  He could have lied to Carol and told her that everything was going to be all right, but he thought she deserved to know the truth. And the truth was Annie either was dead or would be killed in the near future. He had come to this realization five hours after he and Vincent crossed the border.

  “Why? What did you find out?”

  “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to look for her.”

  “Remember Elizabeth Smart? They found her nine months after she was kidnapped.”

  “The police aren’t going to look for Annie. It’s all up to us now, and I don’t know what to do.”

  There was a long silence. Then Carol asked, “Is Aaron Brady a good lawyer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think he can win your case?”

  David nodded.

  “But we can’t be sure he’ll win, can we? Juries are unpredictable, you said it yourself.”

  “The case is very weak. They don’t have a body.”

  “What if they find the body?”

  David supposed it would strengthen the prosecution’s case only if the body had knife wounds. If there were no wounds, the knife found in Ardmore Park, the only piece of physical evidence against him, would become irrelevant.

  A wave of shame swept over David. How could he be so calculating and businesslike when thinking about Annie’s dead body?

  “Then the case will be a little stronger,” David said.

  “I don’t want to lose you, Dave.”

  David laced his hand with Carol’s and said, “You’re not going to lose me.”

  Later, as he put the plate in the sink he wondered if Carol had stopped caring about his lie detector test results, the knife, and the confession he had made under hypnosis because she had forgiven him.

  Had she forgiven him because she loved him more than Annie? David hoped it wasn’t so.

  3

  The next day David called Paul Sibert and told him to stop looking for Roger Kemper.

  “I had bad information,” he explained. “He has nothing to do with Annie’s kidnapping.”

  On Monday evening Vincent paid David a visit at his house. At the investigator’s request, David took him to the study. He thought Vincent was going to present a new theory or a plan of action, but he was wrong.

  “I talked to a buddy of mine today,” Vincent said. “He works for the Plano PD. He told me why the police suspect you of killing your daughter.”

  “What did he tell you?”

  “He said you confessed to killing Annie when you were under hypnosis. He said they found a knife with her blood and your fingerprints on it.”

  “Did he mention that they didn’t find Annie’s body?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “They can’t know for sure that knife is the murder weapon because they don’t have the body.”

  “Y
ou can be convicted of murder even without a body.”

  “I know that. Why did you ask your friend about this?”

  “I was trying to gather some leads, that’s all. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “About what?”

  “About the knife, the confession.”

  David gave Vincent a long look.

  The investigator doubted his innocence. Why else would Vincent want to talk to him about the knife and the confession?

  “What would you like to know?” David asked.

  “Look, David, I’m on your side here.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “How did you know where the knife was? Why did you confess?”

  “I confessed because I was out of my mind. I was in shock. I wasn’t myself then.”

  “How did you know where the knife was?”

  “I have no clue. And I don’t care how I knew it.”

  “Aren’t you even a little curious?”

  “Why should I be curious?”

  Vincent thought for a moment, and then asked, “Have you ever had amnesia?”

  “What?”

  He thinks I murdered Annie and then forgot about it. What an idiotic idea!

  “Have you ever had amnesia?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Has anyone in your family had blackouts?”

  “No. Do you think I blacked out and killed my daughter?”

  “I’m just trying to understand.”

  “I’m not paying you to understand, Vince. I hired you to look for my daughter. My interactions with the police don’t concern you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you want to quit the case?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” David sighed. “I don’t expect you to believe in my innocence. Just don’t waste time investigating me.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  “As for the knife, I believe the kidnappers are trying to frame me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they want the police to stop looking for them.”

  Vincent nodded thoughtfully. “Right.”

  “By the way, have you finished checking the sex offenders’ residences?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, we found nothing.”

  David reached into his pants pocket and took out the check he had written to Vincent. “Here’s the ten thousand I owe you.” He gave the check to the investigator.

  Chapter 12

  1

  On Wednesday, May 25, Carol said she wanted to hire a psychic to find Annie.

  “When are you going?” David asked.

  “I haven’t found one I trust yet.”

  “I’ll go with you, if you want.”

  “Okay. I’ll let you know.”

  Although David didn’t believe in psychics, he was now willing to suspend his skepticism and hope that not all of them were scammers. He was desperate enough to try anything.

  At three in the afternoon David went outside to get the mail. There were two junk letters and a package in the mailbox. As he walked back to the house, he read the sender’s name and address on the package: Sam Jones, 301 Alderson St., Dallas. He had no idea who Sam Jones was. He read the addressee’s name: David Miller.

  After he threw the junk mail in the trash, David tore the package open, looked inside it, and saw what appeared to be some kind of electronic device. He took the device out.

  It was a cellphone. A no-frills clamshell cellphone. When David touched the OK button, it occurred to him that the phone must have been sent by the kidnappers. His pulse quickened.

  The kidnappers wanted to contact him. They had sent this cell because they thought the police were tapping his phones.

  The envelope also contained a USB cord and a computer-printed note, which read: “David, wait for my call. It’s about your daughter. Don’t say a word to anyone, including your wife. Use the cable to charge the phone.”

  His heart began to slam against his ribs. Annie was still alive. He would pay the kidnappers ransom, and they would give her back to him. This nightmare would be over soon.

  David switched on the phone and then stared at it for a minute, waiting for it to ring, but the cell remained silent.

  There was no reason to expect the kidnappers to call now, was there? They had no way of knowing he had opened the package and turned on the phone.

  David checked the battery indicator. The battery was still full. He put the phone on the coffee table and reread the note.

  Don’t say a word to anyone, including your wife.

  Okay, he would keep this secret.

  Sam Jones, 301 Alderson St., Dallas. David was sure the sender’s name and address were bogus.

  He decided to hold onto the envelope because it was evidence that could potentially help identify the kidnappers. He locked the envelope and the note in a cabinet in his study.

  The phone rang at a quarter to four, when David was in the second-floor bathroom taking a piss. He pulled the cell from his shorts pocket, flipped it open, and held it to his ear.

  “Hello.”

  “Is this David Miller?” The voice sounded odd, artificial. David figured the kidnapper spoke through a voice changer.

  “Yes. Who are you?”

  “Call me Ben. Are you alone?”

  “Yes.” David stepped out of the bathroom and headed for the study.

  “I have good news for you, David. Would you like to hear it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Annie’s alive.”

  A flush of heat came over David. A torrid mix of ecstasy and rage ignited in his heart.

  Annie was alive!

  Please, God, let it be true!

  “Do you have her?” David entered the study and shut the door.

  “Yes.”

  “How much do you want?”

  “It’s not about money.”

  After waiting a few seconds, David asked impatiently, “So what do you want?”

  “I want to offer you a deal, David. Do you love your daughter?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you do whatever it takes to save her life?”

  “Yes. Tell me what you want.”

  “Here’s my proposition. I’ll let your daughter live if you confess to killing her.”

  “You want me to confess to killing Annie?”

  “That’s right, David.”

  “Why?”

  “It doesn’t matter. If you don’t do it, she’ll die.”

  “I’ll give you a million dollars if you give her back to me.”

  “I told you it’s not about money. I want you to confess to killing Annie.”

  “Are you going to let Annie go if I do it?”

  “Yes. Eventually.”

  “What do you mean ‘eventually’? When are you going to let her go?”

  “In six years.”

  “Six years? That’s too long.”

  “Well, I disagree.”

  “Why six years?”

  “Because I say so. Listen, David. If you don’t like the terms, don’t take the deal.”

  “How do I know you’ll keep your promise?”

  “What a stupid question. What do you want me to do? Sign a fucking contract?”

  David clenched his free hand into a fist. He felt the urge to tear this guy apart.

  “Who’s going to feed Annie? Who’s going to take care of her during these six years?”

  “I am.”

  “Do you know how to care for children?”

  “I’ll hire Mary Poppins. Are you happy now, David?”

  “Please don’t hurt her.”

  “She’ll be fine if you do what I tell you to do. Do we have a deal?”

  “Yes. But first I need you to prove that Annie’s still alive.”

  “Okay.”

  “Can I talk to her?”

  “No. I’ll send you a picture.”

  “Just let me talk to her. Please.”

  “No. I’ll send you a picture. What’s your f
avorite basketball team?”

  “Phoenix Suns. Why?”

  “I’ll send you a picture of your daughter wearing a Phoenix Suns cap. I want you to make the confession within twenty-four hours of receiving the picture.”

  “Send me a picture of her holding today’s newspaper.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re going to show the photo to the cops, and they’ll drop the charges against you. If you don’t like a cap, pick something else.”

  David thought for a moment and then said, “Have her hold up four fingers on her left hand.”

  “Okay. Four fingers on her left hand. What’s your email address?”

  David gave “Ben” his email address. “Why are you doing this?”

  “For fun. I’ll send the picture tomorrow. Don’t lose the phone. Bye.” The kidnapper terminated the call.

  2

  David went online and found that the kidnapper had called him from a payphone in Dallas. He did a reverse lookup on the number of the cellphone he had received from “Ben” and came up with nothing. It was probably one of those disposable prepaid phones you could buy without showing your ID. The number had a Dallas area code, which meant the cell had been purchased in Dallas. David called Vincent and asked him to find out who the number belonged to.

  What was the kidnapper’s motive? His real motive?

  Maybe “Ben” was telling the truth. Maybe he was a sadist who enjoyed framing other people for murder.

  The kidnapper had told him not to lose the phone. Apparently “Ben” was going to call again.

  Should he tell the police about “Ben”? To prove that he wasn’t lying, he could record his next phone conversation with the kidnapper and give the recording to the cops.

  They would say he had staged the phone call to get the charges dropped.

  He should have asked the kidnapper how Annie’s blood had gotten on the knife found in Ardmore Park.

  Vincent called back an hour later and reported that the number David had given him was not registered to anyone.

  He had to think of a way to identify the buyer of the cellphone. First, he needed to find out where it had been sold. It shouldn’t be hard to do: every mobile phone had a unique identification number known as IMEI, which enabled the phone manufacturer to keep track of what retailer a particular phone had been shipped to. He would ask Paul Sibert to contact the manufacturer.