Dividing Zero

by Ty Patterson

  The man crossed his fingers, steepled them and a helpful expression came across his face.

  ‘What’s this about?’

  Meghan told him.

  He listened silently, his face expressionless but for a well-shaped eyebrow lifting.

  ‘That’s one heck of a story,’ he exclaimed when she had finished. He turned to the cops.

  ‘Presumably you are investigating.’

  ‘It’s why we are here,’ Chang said baldly. ‘Where were you yesterday? You didn’t get our messages?’

  ‘I was out of the country. Just got back this morning.’

  The wide smile flashed again. ‘Detective Chang, I hope you aren’t suggesting I am involved in any way.’

  Pizaka’s shades trained on Kittrell. ‘No suggestions, Mr. Kittrell. Josh Kittrell is the missing dad. He works here. That’s why we are here.’

  The man chuckled. ‘I can assure you I am the only Josh Kittrell in this firm. You can confirm for yourself, if you wish.’

  He lifted a phone, spoke quietly in it and after a short while there was a discreet knock on the door and an elderly woman entered. She was dressed in a cream-colored suit and was carrying a folder.

  ‘Helen Limbaugh. She heads our HR,’ Kittrell introduced her.

  ‘Helen, these folks are from the NYPD. Can you tell them how many people we employ?’

  Limbaugh looked at him for a moment.

  ‘It’s alright, Helen. They are investigating a missing person who is apparently connected to our firm.’

  ‘Mayo and Kane has two thousand eight hundred and fifty staff all over the country. Three hundred are partners. Over fifteen hundred are lawyers. Mr. Kittrell is Partner of our Settlements Division.’

  Limbaugh’s voice was dry and precise as she recited the figures while looking at Meghan.

  It must be in her contract. No emotion to be shown.

  ‘And how many Josh Kittrells do we have, Helen?’ Kittrell grinned.

  ‘Just you.’ Limbaugh smiled slightly.

  Smiles are allowed. Small ones. Except when you make partner. Then, large ones are mandatory.

  They spent an hour more at the law firm and got nothing useful out but for the fact that Amy Kittrell’s husband didn’t work there.

  They showed photographs of the husband. No one in the law firm recognized him.

  The number that the mother and Pizaka and Chang had rung, belonged to the firm. Kittrell had no explanation for that. The mobile number for the missing father wasn’t the firm’s.

  ‘Something you should be looking into, detectives.’ Kittrell was amused. He seemed to be enjoying himself and at one point nearly rubbed his hands together.

  Probably a change from advising stuffy corporate types, Meghan thought. Beth looked at her sideways. She had the same thought.

  ‘What’s the settlements division?’ Meghan asked him and braced herself mentally for a lengthy reply.

  The partner didn’t disappoint her.

  The firm worked with defense outfits, he explained. Many of them supplied military contractors to the Army.

  ‘Mercenaries,’ Beth interjected.

  ‘Not at all,’ Kittrell refuted smoothly. ‘That word doesn’t do justice to the people our clients provide. Their contractors are professionals, ex-military, highly trained and disciplined. Not the picture that Hollywood paints.’

  ‘Unfortunately some of these contractors get injured or killed when deployed. My division makes sure their families get all the benefits due to them.’

  In many cases family members had to be traced, dependents had to be identified, before benefit payments could be made.

  ‘I was in the Army myself. Three tours of Afghanistan.’

  ‘Got a law degree when I left, worked my butt off, and here I am.’

  ‘I know what families go through when their men or women are away, or don’t return.’

  He glanced at a family picture on his desk with a sombre expression. He did righteous work even if he charged a fortune for it.

  He answered a few more questions and then flicked a cuff back to reveal an expensive wristwatch. He rose. Non-chargeable time was over.

  ‘Your man never worked here.’

  Chapter 8

  ‘We have a John Doe?’ Meghan asked the two cops.

  Pizaka’s shades inclined silently while Chang sighed and ran a hand through his unruly hair.

  ‘This couldn’t get any worse,’ Chang replied morosely.

  Beth was silent as she slurped at her juice. They were in a coffee shop, filling up with liquids, regrouping after the whammy the law firm had delivered.

  A girl walked past them, tugging on her mom’s arm, pointing excitedly at muffins on the counter.

  Beth’s gaze rested on her and then she rose suddenly. ‘Let’s ask the mom.’

  ‘Whoa. Hold up, sis.’ Meghan put out a hand and pulled her down.

  ‘She’s coming apart. I don’t think she can handle this blow.’

  ‘Maybe she knows,’ Pizaka dabbed his lips with a paper towel.

  ‘And maybe she doesn’t.’ Meghan shot back. ‘Why don’t we find out who the missing dad is, before asking her?’

  ‘We’re on that too.’ Chang left a few bills on the table, rose, and slipped into his jacket.

  ‘A couple of female officers interviewed Amy Kittrell earlier today. Asked her about his usual haunts, their friends.’

  He stopped, one hand inside his jacket, one hand outside. ‘Here’s the funny thing. He doesn’t have any usual haunts. He went to work. Came back home. No visits to the bar with friends. Weekends were spent at home or in the park.’

  He slid the other hand into his jacket. ‘They have a few friends, we’re following up on those.’

  He waved at the twins and turned to join Pizaka who was waiting impatiently.

  ‘Anything from the hotline?’ Beth stopped him, referring to the number the NYPD had set up for Maddie.

  ‘Usual crank calls. Wrong or false sightings. No gold dust.’

  Meghan glanced involuntarily at Mickey Mouse when she and her sister entered their office.

  Thirty hours since Maddie’s kidnapping.

  They went to work on their computers.

  Meghan would track down the missing father’s records, while Beth would go after his social media presence.

  They didn’t take long to complete their search.

  ‘No DMV record. No bank account, at least none that we can find.’ Meghan exhaled slowly.

  Beth’s head rose sharply. ‘He doesn’t have a driver’s license?’

  ‘Nope. No record, at least. I think Amy Kittrell said something about that – that he didn’t like driving.’

  Late afternoon became early evening. Shadows elongated and became dark and then disappeared. The twins didn’t stop working.

  ‘He’s not on the internet either. Probably the only male of his age that isn’t on social media.’ Beth pushed off from her desk finally, stretched, and paced their office, a squeeze ball in her hand.

  ‘Let me try facial recog.’ Meghan connected to Werner and after scanning the father’s picture, commanded it to search for the father’s likeness.

  Werner had sophisticated algorithms that compared images based on several nodal points on a person’s facial structure, with the numerous databases it had access to.

  ‘Werner didn’t get any hits for Maddie. I bet dad won’t turn up either.’

  Meghan ignored her sister and clicked furiously. She called Chang when she had finished and had a short discussion.

  ‘They are running similar searches at their end.’

  A thought struck her. ‘Let me check for records in Baybush.’

  Nothing came up in Baybush. Werner didn’t return any facial recog hits.

  They went for a run in Central Park when it became dark, alternating between slow and fast sprints. They slowed and stopped when perspiration matted their hair and streamed down their faces.

  They launched into a routi
ne Zeb had taught them. A mix of martial arts and Tai Chi. A cyclist slowed to watch them. They ignored him.

  A bunch of runners split around them. They didn’t let up.

  It was as if fury was driving them.

  ‘Killing yourself won’t find her,’ a quiet voice spoke from behind.

  Meghan whirled around, ready to do combat.

  She relaxed when she saw it was Zeb.

  She grabbed a towel, gave one to Beth, and followed Zeb out of the park.

  ‘Let’s ask the mom.’

  Beth called Chang while Zeb was driving, and argued with him. ‘We’re going to question her regardless of your presence.’

  Meghan craned her head back and looked at her, taking in her pinched face and hollow eyes. She didn’t comment on her sister’s appearance. ‘They’re coming?’

  Beth nodded.

  Zeb drove through flashes of red and orange, cutting in and out, vehicles parting as if sensing the force field inside their SUV.

  Chang and Pizaka were waiting for them when they arrived.

  ‘Magic of light bars,’ Chang replied smugly at Meghan’s asking glance.

  He waved a hand.

  Lead the way.

  Amy Kittrell opened the door when Meghan rang the buzzer. She hadn’t changed since they had met her earlier in the day. A faded sweatshirt over jeans, hair pulled back loosely and held by a band.

  Her face was listless and seemed to have aged in a day.

  ‘You again,’ she said by way of greeting.

  Her eyes flicked over Meghan’s shoulder, past Beth and Zeb, and took in the two cops.

  Her eyes widened. She stumbled backward.

  A hand went to her mouth and she sagged against a wall.

  ‘Noooo.’

  Chapter 9

  Meghan lunged forward and caught her before she fell.

  ‘It’s not like that, ma’am. Nothing like that.’

  She kept repeating till the mother listened, got her strength back in her legs and stood upright. Meghan held her and walked her to the living room.

  She glanced at her sister; Beth disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water.

  Amy Kittrell emptied it, wiped her mouth with the paper towel Beth gave her and lifted a hand limply.

  ‘Thank you. Sorry, I thought –’ she shook her head. ‘I don’t know what to think. I hear a knock or the phone rings; I hope for the best and fear the worst.’

  She raised her eyes at Meghan when no one replied. ‘You must have something to ask. That’s why you are here.’

  There’s no easy way to frame this.

  ‘Ma’am, we went to Mayo and Kane today. They said your husband doesn’t work there.’

  Amy Kittrell sat blankly for a moment and then sat upright on the couch. ‘How’s that possible? Josh worked there all his life.’

  ‘There is a Josh Kittrell there, ma’am. We met him. But he isn’t your husband.’

  The house fell silent. Kitchen appliances clicked on and off softly and in the distance, a siren wailed.

  The mother sat for long minutes as if she was punched in her stomach, and then she rose.

  ‘He has his employment papers. I’ll get them.’

  She disappeared in the depths of the house and they heard movement from one of the bedrooms.

  Drawers opened and closed. Wardrobe doors opened and shut.

  Footsteps sounded, but she didn’t return to the living room. Sounds came from a second bedroom and then from the furthest end of the house.

  Her face was white and her hands were shaking when she returned.

  ‘His papers. They are missing. His clothing is missing. None of his stuff is where it should be.’

  The papers were stored in a safe in a wardrobe, in a plastic wallet. They contained his employment contract, letters of commendation, various correspondences related to his job.

  The wallet was missing.

  His wardrobe was empty. The shoe rack didn’t have his footwear.

  ‘I didn’t open his wardrobe. Didn’t pay attention to the shoe rack.’ She struggled to get words out and drank gratefully from a glass of water that Beth brought for her.

  She placed the glass on a side table and looked around the house as if seeing it for the first time.

  She left the room abruptly and they heard more doors slamming inside the house. She went upstairs and when she returned, her face was flushed.

  ‘His toiletries are missing. They’re usually stored in a cabinet. Nothing there. The house looks like it’s been vacuumed.’

  Her shock was reflected in Beth’s face.

  ‘Nothing of his is left behind?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  Pizaka made a show of removing his shades and pocketing them.

  ‘Ma’am,’ he asked gravely. ‘We’ll need to get a forensic team in here.’

  She gestured with a limp hand. Do whatever you have to. A single tear ran down her cheek; she made no attempt at wiping it.

  ‘What about his salary? It must be credited to some bank account?’ Chang asked in a neutral tone.

  She shook her head. The account details were in the wallet too. She didn’t remember them, nor did she remember the bank’s name.

  ‘I earn more than enough. The mortgage payments go out of my account. His account was of no interest to me. His salary was our play money.’

  A muscle twitched on her cheek. She raised a hand and covered it, as if to silence it.

  ‘Did you visit his office any time, ma’am?’

  ‘No.’

  Amy Kittrell had never visited her husband’s office. There was no reason to. She wasn’t the kind to take pride in her husband’s office. She knew who the employer was, that was enough.

  She kept shaking her head at the questions the cops asked, seeming to shrink in the couch as the weight of the revelations set in.

  ‘What does it all mean?’ she asked once.

  They had no answer.

  Her sobbing stayed in their minds as they left her house and headed to their vehicles.

  Zeb had barely rolled their SUV a few feet, when he stopped after spotting Chang’s wave in his mirror.

  The cop ran toward them, his phone in his hand.

  ‘I got a message from Josh Kittrell,’ he gasped breathlessly.

  ‘He wants to meet us tomorrow.’

  Forty-eight hours from Maddie’s kidnap they met Josh Kittrell for the second time.

  The smile was the same, the smart grooming hadn’t changed. Along with the smile, there was something in his eyes, a strange light.

  He waited for them to sit and when they were settled, he looked at Pizaka and Chang.

  ‘Any progress on finding the little girl?’

  ‘The search is still on,’ Pizaka replied blandly. He hadn’t removed his shades and his tan jacket was flawless. Kittrell wasn’t going to upstage him in the grooming department.

  The lawyer toyed with a file on his desk when they had fallen silent. ‘I was wrong yesterday.’

  He smiled when Meghan leaned forward in interest.

  ‘I made some inquiries when you had left. Reached out to our various offices in the country. I got a bite from one.’

  ‘I wasn’t the only Josh Kittrell in this firm.’

  Wasn’t? Meghan tamped down on a flicker of excitement and inched further.

  Kittrell chuckled. ‘You heard right. A Josh Kittrell worked in our Baybush office in Alabama in our Stakeholder affairs department.’

  ‘That was what Settlements was called before I took charge.’

  ‘Josh Kittrell was the family liaison for contractors’ families in the Southwest. We have such liaisons all over the country.’

  ‘How come you didn’t remember him, yesterday?’ Meghan challenged him.

  ‘He wasn’t with Mayo and Kane when I took over.’

  ‘Where is he now?’

  A sombre expression replaced the smile on his face.

  ‘He’s dead.’

  Chapt
er 10

  Meghan’s jaw dropped open for the second time in as many days.

  ‘Come again?’

  She surged forward as if she could squeeze the answers out of Kittrell who rocked back in his chair defensively.

  The lawyer opened the file in front of him, withdrew a photograph, and slid it across the table to them.

  ‘Is that your missing man?’

  Meghan snatched it, confirmed it with one glance and passed it to her sister who relayed it to the cops.

  ‘Yeah, that’s him. The missing father.’

  The lawyer extracted another sheet and read from it. ‘The second Josh Kittrell worked with Mayo and Kane ever since he graduated.’

  ‘He worked as an intern, got offered a permanent job, and like I said, was the family liaison in his last role.’

  ‘You know anything of Baybush?’

  Beth glanced at the cops; Chang made a ‘be my guest ’ gesture with his shoulder.

  ‘Defense contractor town. A couple of large firms have their facilities around which the town is built. One of them builds missile guidance systems, the other, aircraft parts.’

  ‘That’s right, Ms. Petersen. You have done your homework.’

  ‘Kittrell’s boss retired a year before Kittrell died and at that point the head office decided to move that role, and Kittrell, to New York. He would have worked with me, if he had survived that accident.’

  ‘How and when did he die?’ Meghan burst out, unable to contain herself any longer.

  ‘Road accident. He was driving back from Georgia after meeting a family.’

  ‘A semi’s wheels came off and the truck veered into him. It crushed him, killing him instantly. The semi’s driver died too.’

  He looked at the sheet in his hand. ‘February, five years back.’ He mentioned a date.

  Meghan remembered Amy Kittrell’s words. She said they moved in November of that year. Worth checking one more fact with Mr. Fancy Lawyer.

  ‘He had any family, then?’

  ‘Yes. A wife and a three-year-old daughter. Amy and Madison Kittrell.’

  ‘Any brothers?’

  ‘Not that I know of. Here, this is a copy of his personnel record.’