by Al Boudreau
“Who are you contacting?” I heard Sarah ask.
“Oh, no one important,” he replied.
“May I?” Sarah asked. I walked into the room to see her standing before Jay, hand extended toward him. Iacona handed her his cell—much to my surprise—looking none too happy about doing so.
Sarah spent nearly a full minute scrolling on the cell. “So, the last time you heard from Shauna Eastman was the day before your son went missing?”
Iacona nodded, avoiding eye contact with either of us.
Sarah glanced at me, then handed over Iacona’s phone. I began reading some of the texts sent between the cheating pair, then read the last one, still in progress, yet to be sent. Where are you? Why are you blowing me off? And what’s the deal with you and my son Ryan? I never even told you I had a son.
We couldn’t have cut it closer with our timing.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Iacona said, “but there’s no way Shauna had anything to do with my son’s kidnapping.”
“Sounds to me like you’re trying to convince yourself she’s not involved,” Sarah said.
“And she may not be,” I added. “But we can’t afford to blow the opportunity to find out. Jay, as hard as this might be for you, I have to ask that you sever all ties with this woman … at least for now.” I set down his phone on the coffee table, just out of his reach. “If you’d sent that text, we could have lost our best chance at getting information from her. Are we clear?”
Once again, Iacona avoided eye contact as he nodded.
“I’m sorry, Jay, but I need to hear you say it,” Sarah said.
Iacona looked Sarah in the eyes. “I won’t screw this up. Ryan is too important to us. I’ll refrain. You have my word.”
“Good,” Sarah said. “We need you working with us, not against us. Disrespect me or this case, in any way, I’m done. Now, let’s get back to that surveillance footage.”
We sat down on either side of him on the couch. “Give us a play by play,” I said. “Don’t leave anything out. A detail you might see as unimportant could be exactly what we need to help locate Ryan.”
“Got it,” Iacona said as the video began. “The first few minutes here consisted of nothing but discussion of the supposed loan.”
“Has anyone from Steele & Company gone over the loan paperwork to see if there’s anything useful in those docs?” I asked.
“Possibly,” Iacona said. “If so, they certainly haven’t shared that information with me.”
I jotted down a reminder. “I’ll see if the Bridgeport police have a copy on file. If not, they can get one.”
The segment of footage where Iacona staggered backwards and tipped his recliner over was playing now. “What did the suspect tell you when you saw your son on the screen?” Sarah asked.
“He said that they had Ryan, and that I was to follow his instructions to the letter or I’d never see my son again.”
“What about Ryan?” Sarah asked. “Did his captors allow him to speak?”
“Just once. Ryan’s exact words were, ‘Dad, if you don’t do what these people tell you to do, they said they’d kill me.’”
Sarah got up and grabbed some tissues as Iacona’s eyes welled with tears.
“Did anyone else on the video speak? Did you see any faces?”
“No,” he replied. “The only thing I saw was a close-up view of Ryan sitting in a chair, and a man’s hand aiming a gun at Ryan’s head.”
The camera view cycled to the female bank employee standing in the open doorway of Iacona’s office. “I take it she came to your office when she heard the noise,” I said.
“That’s right. I told her everything was fine and closed the door on her.”
“Looks like once she was gone the suspect was doing most of the talking. What was being said during that period?” I asked.
“He explained what I was to do, and exactly how he wanted me to do it,” Iacona said. “It made me want to vomit. I told him it wasn’t going to work. Then he got upset.”
“Right there,” Sarah said, pointing at the screen. What’s that he handed you?”
“Two live-feed video cameras, bound together, back-to-back. With audio. He made me keep one focused on my face at all times, while filming what was out in front of me with the other. He was monitoring both feeds in real time using a split screen feature on his netbook computer. As much as I hate to admit it, it was a smart play. I couldn’t do or say anything without him knowing about it.”
“You obviously had to let your assistant manager know what was happening in order to get inside the vault.” Sarah said.
“Correct. Which is why the guy got so upset. He insisted I tell no one what was happening, but there isn’t a bank in the world that allows access to a major vault without two individuals being involved. One person with the key, the other with the combination.” Iacona closed his eyes and tipped his head back. “Nor could a single person authorize a huge electronic transfer of funds like the one he demanded. Courtney needed to be involved.”
I jotted the details down in my notebook. “Odd, don’t you think? That this guy was very clever in some ways, but misinformed in others.”
“Yeah,” Sarah said, “seems to smack of amateur night. They didn’t do their homework.”
“Amateurs? I don’t know. Maybe,” I responded, “but they managed to get the job done.”
Iacona nodded. “This guy definitely had some knowledge of the inner workings of a bank. He knew about the dye packs and tear gas canisters hidden in some of the banded stacks of cash. He was quite clear with his instructions when it came to the bills. Said if he found any security measures inside the transport bags, he’d blow Ry—” Iacona lost his composure for a few seconds. “Said he’d blow my son’s head off.”
“What was the suspect saying when the lights and video began to flicker?” Sarah asked.
“He was very nervous about the storm,” Iacona said. “He demanded we expedite and finalize the transfer.”
“Looks like Courtney was fighting it,” Sarah said.
“Oh, she was. I literally had to beg her to authorize that transaction,” Iacona replied.
“When this guy grabbed the netbook from Courtney, do you know what he was typing?”
“He was trying to get confirmation that the money had been deposited in his account. That’s when the power went out.”
“And after that?” I asked.
“He insisted I carry all three transport bags out to their van.”
“There were others involved?” Sarah asked.
“I saw one other individual, sitting in the driver’s seat, when I approached. The suspect I was dealing with only let me get within about fifteen feet of their vehicle. He grabbed the bags, jumped in the van, and they were gone.”
“Man, that’s bold,” Sarah said.
The three of us sat in silence for an uncomfortable period of time until Iacona asked, “Well, what’s next?”
I turned to Sarah and said, “I think it would be best if you headed to the casino solo. I’d like to stay here with Jay and see if there are any other details he might have left out that could be useful.”
Sarah gave me a knowing look and stood up. “No problem.”
Iacona fidgeted in his seat upon hearing my plan, looking annoyed. “I, uh … I’ve got nothing else to offer. Nothing that comes to mind,” he said while looking at his phone on the table. “But I can call you if I remember something pertinent. I really should be getting back home to Nelda.”
Iacona leaned over to grab his phone, but I anticipated the move and snatched it up. No doubt in my mind he still intended to try to contact Shauna Eastman.
Sarah caught my eye, winked, and gave me a subtle wave. “I’ll be in touch,” she said and headed out.
Iacona watched Sarah leave before turning toward me, wearing a defeated expression. As soon as the front door clicked shut he hung his head and said, “I never wanted kids. I watched a slew of my college buds get m
arried right out of grad school. Settle down. Start families. They all put on brilliant façades, but over the years I discovered most of them were absolutely miserable. Sneaking around. Having affairs with their secretaries. Co-workers. Waitresses. I talked my wife into holding off from having kids as long as I could, but she’d finally reached the point where she didn’t want to hear it any more. So, despite knowing it was going to change my relationship with Nelda---and not in a good way---I succumbed. Sure enough, as soon as Ryan was born, everything changed.”
“Sorry to hear how unhappy you are,” I told him. But I didn’t have much empathy.
“I know you probably think I’m a massive jerk, Carter. I want you to know, despite whatever resentment I feel inside … I love my son. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get him back.”
“That’s good,” I said. “I’m a professional. So is Sarah. What we might think or feel, on a strictly personal level, doesn’t necessarily enter into the equation. But what about Ryan? He must have some sense of how you feel.”
Iacona pursed his lips and remained quiet for a beat. “That matters?” He shook his head. “Sorry. That came out wrong. What I meant to ask is, does that really matter as far as the case is concerned?”
“It might, so I’m asking you to answer the question honestly. Do you think Ryan realizes you feel the way you do about having raised a family?”
“I wish I could say no, but … well, how could he not? He’s not a dumb kid, by any stretch. My wife raised him, and she’s done a wonderful job. Ryan is smart, outgoing, and ambitious. In fact, as soon as Ryan got his driver’s license Nelda started saying, ‘that’s it, we’ve lost him.’ Now, especially for her sake, I can’t bear the thought we actually might.”
Chapter 10
I checked my cell phone. Nearly an hour passed since Sarah had left for Cooper’s Beach Club Casino, located just a short drive over the Massachusetts border. No messages from her yet. I’d picked Jay Iacona’s brain enough that we were both spent, but I wasn’t about to cut him loose until I knew we’d had ample opportunity to get a read on Shauna Eastman.
I called Detective James and asked if he was available for a meeting. He told me to come right down. When I hung up, Iacona said, “Any way I can get out of here? I really should get back to my wife.”
I studied his face as he spoke. Despite having given us his word about severing ties with Eastman, I felt confident he’d try to contact her the first chance he got. I slipped his phone into my pocket. “We’ll be done soon,” I said, “but for now, I need you to come with me. I want to introduce you to Detective James at the Bridgeport Police Department.”
“Sounds to me like I don’t have a choice,” Iacona responded.
“Not at all,” I said, “but if you’re willing to do whatever it takes to get Ryan back then I suggest you follow my lead.”
Iacona stood up and motioned toward the door. “Lead.”
* * *
“Glad to meet you Detective James,” Iacona said as James rose from his desk and the two men shook hands.
“Likewise.” James put his arm around my shoulder. “Where’s my favorite half of your investigative team?” he asked.
“Sarah’s at Cooper’s Beach, hoping to have a conversation with one of the suspects on that list you gave us.”
“Excellent,” James said, “which one?”
I glanced at Iacona, who was glaring at me. “Uh, now that you ask, I can’t recall which one of them she was focusing on this morning.”
“She intends to interrogate Shauna Eastman,” Iacona said. “I’ve already tried to make it clear that Shauna has no involvement in my son’s disappearance, but they’ve got it in their heads she’s some kind of monster.”
James’s resulting blank stare remained fixated on Iacona’s face for a brief moment before the detective shot me a sidelong glance. James put one hand on Iacona’s shoulder and pointed down the hall with the other. “Mr. Iacona, why don’t you head to the conference room and take a seat. We’ll be along in just a sec.”
I waited until Iacona was out of sight. “Seems our client is involved with Shauna Eastman.”
“Hold on,” James said. “Isn’t he married?”
“That he is,” I said.
James massaged his jaw. “Sooo … how did you arrive at that conclusion? He didn’t come right out and tell—”
“Sarah put it together,” I said. “Once she called him out on it, he admitted to being involved in an ongoing affair.”
“Oh, man. Just like a client to complicate an investigation, right?” James responded.
“Yep. To make things worse, he is very eager to warn Eastman about our knowledge. I have his cell on me right now.”
“Give it to me. I’m going to have one of my men make a copy of the SIM card.”
I reached inside my pocket and handed James the device. Iacona was still a suspect, so I wasn’t about to say no to the request.
“I’ll keep him company while the copy gets made. Wait right here, and one of my officers will return the phone to you.”
“Got it,” I said as James walked away. I took out my own cell. Still nothing from Sarah. I decided to shoot her a text. Any sign of her yet? I’m at BPD with James and Jay.
I dropped the phone back into my pocket, not expecting an immediate response, when the incoming text indicator whistled. Hope James is making progress on the case, because, other than getting some photos of Ryan’s known associates from the casino’s employee files, hanging out at this casino is looking like a major waste of time.
I’d just sent a hang in there response to Sarah when one of Bridgeport’s officers approached and handed me Iacona’s phone. “Thanks,” I said. I pocketed both devices and headed to the conference room.
When I entered, James and Iacona were discussing Eastman, so I took a seat, pulled out my notebook, and reviewed my notes. I began jotting down a log of the morning’s activities when my phone sounded off again.
This message was a file instead of a text. I opened it to find a head shot of the Eastman woman. The caption below it read from casino security.
Another text followed. Sarah, again. Hanging at casino for a bit longer then headed to BPD.
“Were you aware of that, Carter?” James asked.
“Sorry. Aware of what?”
“That Shauna Eastman’s history only goes back three years,” James said.
“Uh, no. No, I wasn’t. How did this information come to light?”
“Mr. Iacona told me,” James said. “He did a background check on her right after they met. I just ran one, myself. Sure enough, he’s absolutely right.”
I looked at Iacona and tossed my hands in the air. “You didn’t think I might find that info useful?” I asked, not real pleased with him at the moment.
Iacona shrugged. “The detective’s questions jogged my memory. You’ve been so down on Shauna, I probably just blocked it out.”
“Why did you continue to see this woman once you discovered she might not be who she said she was?” I asked.
“It’s not like I was planning on divorcing my wife then marrying this woman,” Iacona replied. “It was a fling. The discovery just made me more careful about what I shared with her. That’s it.”
Unbelievable. James was likely wondering why I’d failed to discover such a glaring detail when he’d uncovered the information in less than two minutes. I needed to step up my game while showing Iacona who was in the driver’s seat. I worked the screen of my phone.
“Detective, I just sent a recent photograph of Ms. Eastman to your computer. Maybe we should take advantage of the fantastic facial recognition software you have, and run her image through the national database.”
“Absolutely,” he replied. “Let me do that right now. Maybe we’ll learn something before you two leave here,” he said.
Iacona stared straight ahead at the wall, showing no emotion as James got up and left the room. “More spinning our wheels while my son’s life
remains in peril,” he said. “As I told you before, you’re chasing down the wrong person, or persons.”
“How is it that you really came across this information?” I asked, refusing to let Iacona’s attempt to get under my skin have any effect. “People don’t just do background checks on others out of the blue. You must have had a good reason.”
“Simple,” Iacona said. “We got hammered one night and she let it slip.”
“Let what slip, exactly?”
“That she was forced to take on a new identity,” he said.
“Oh, is that right? What for?” I asked.
“She didn’t come right out and tell me, but … I got the impression it had something to do with an abusive relationship.”
I checked myself, not wanting to react and say the wrong thing. I’d seen enough domestic abuse cases to last ten lifetimes and took the subject very seriously. For all I knew, she could have been telling the truth.
But … I’d also heard all the reasons imaginable used as fake excuses to cover various felons’ tracks. I was skeptical, to say the least. Either way, one fact was painfully obvious at this point: Iacona had bought into the entire package Shauna Eastman was ultimately selling.
Chapter 11
Jay Iacona said nothing more as we remained seated inside Bridgeport Police Department’s conference room, awaiting Detective James’s return. I decided not to push Iacona when it came to my suspicions about Shauna Eastman. We were at an impasse. Trying to convince him there was a possibility she might be involved in his son’s disappearance would be nothing but a waste of time at this point. I was keeping my fingers crossed one or more of the police department’s databases would return a hit on this woman.
I was a little surprised when I saw Sarah walk into the room, James close behind. “Making any progress?” Sarah asked. Guess she hadn’t spoken with James about the latest pieces of the puzzle yet.
