“Okay,” Harwell intervened. “So, the last time you spoke to her was Tuesday. And Sara said Amanda didn’t show up for their lunch date on Wednesday. And you’re saying she’s never done anything like this before?”
“No. Never,” Joyce answered, “she’s as reliable as the day is long.”
Zach checked his watch. “It’s been more than seventy-two hours since anyone has heard from her, so let’s file a Missing Person’s Report, and begin a full-scale investigation. We currently have detectives checking the cruise line logs for their name. Is there any reason Mr. Sawyer would have used a fictitious name?”
“None that I know of?” Charles answered. “I guess . . . unless he was running from the law.” His fingers curled into a fist. “If he did anything to hurt them, I won’t rest until he’s behind bars.”
“Look, we know your emotions are running high right now, but let’s not put a noose around Sawyer’s neck before we have the proof. Let the detectives conduct their investigation.” Harwell suggested.
“You’re right, Lieutenant Harwell.”
“What is your opinion of your son-in-law?” Harwell asked. “Has there ever been a problem between you?”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Charles responded with a slight grin. “As most parents, we’ve never thought he was good enough for our Amanda, but he has provided her with a good monetary lifestyle. He’s the father of our granddaughter, and under those terms we’ve accepted him.”
“But he is a wonderful father to his daughter,” Joyce added. “He’s not home very much, but she’s the apple of his eye. I’ve chastised him for not being around more often, but Patrick claims the time they spend together is quality. During the marriage, Amanda has had several miscarriages. With each loss, Patrick became more and more despondent. I’m not sure if it was anger directed at Amanda for the loss of the pregnancies, or something else, but I do know he promised his mother he’d have a houseful of children. His despondency caused tension between us because we didn’t feel he showed the type of compassion toward Amanda you’d expect after such a devastating event.”
“So, you’re saying there was tension in the marriage?”
“Yes, at times, but I don’t think any more than a lot of couples experience. I guess it was more disappointment over the losses they suffered.”
“As soon as we’re through here,” Zach announced, “Detective Kensington and I will get a search warrant for the residence from the Prosecutor’s office.”
“We can give you our key if it would be quicker,” Charles offered.
“Thank you, Mr. Milligan, but the Department needs to do this by the book,” Harwell said. “Once we obtain the warrant, we would appreciate using your key for the residence.”
“Certainly. Let us know if there’s anything else we can do to help.” Charles turned toward Detective Gerard. “Can you tell us how to get in touch with Sara?”
“I’m afraid we don’t have an address for her. She said she’s been staying with friends.”
He grew silent as though lost in thought. His wife reached for his hand. “Will you see her again?” he asked.
“Sara said she’d keep in touch with us, and based on the strong concern she displayed for her sister, I have no doubt she will.”
“Will you tell her we’d like to see her?” Joyce Milligan said.
“It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Milligan.” Jessie watched the deep frown lines take over Charles’ face. It was no secret both parents were suffering.
“After we fill out the Missing Person’s report, how long before it goes into effect?”
“Right away. Do you have a photograph of Amanda?” she asked.
Mrs. Milligan immediately began searching through her handbag. “Wait a minute,” Charles said, leaning over to reach for his wallet. He leafed through the few photos he held in his hand. “Here’s a photo of their wedding picture,” he stared at it for a long while before handing it over to Kensington. It’s probably eleven years old.”
“Yes, Charles,” Joyce piped up, “it’s been that long.”
Jessie held the photo in her hand while Zach leaned over her shoulder. She inhaled his scent and did her best to ignore the comfort she felt from his closeness. She focused on the photo.
Her stomach quivered when she saw Patrick Sawyer’s condescending smile, and wondered why someone so beautiful would marry a man like him. “We’ll make the necessary calls, check the hospitals—” Jessie stopped mid-sentence realizing she was telling them too much.
“What?” Charles asked.
“We’ll do everything we can to find your daughter.” She couldn’t bring herself to mention the possibility of their daughter being in the morgue.
“I have a few more questions I’d like to ask,” Zach added.
“What kind of car does Amanda drive?” she asked.
“A Mercedes.” Charles Milligan said, removing his glasses. “Why do you ask?”
“We’re investigating an auto accident,” Zach added. “The female involved in the accident is suffering from amnesia. When we arrived at the scene,” he continued, “it appeared to be a normal wreck. Upon further investigation, we noticed the vehicle had been hit from behind multiple times. The victim was found alive, minimal bruising, and extremely confused about who she was.”
“What kind of car was this woman driving?” Joyce asked.
“A Volvo.”
Mrs. Milligan exhaled. “Amanda drives a Mercedes.”
“That’s exactly what we figured,” he answered. “I imagine she’s had the pick of the litter being married to the man with the largest car dealership in the state. As it turned out this particular car was stolen.”
The wife gave Zach a questionable frown. “I’m very confused right now, Detectives. You said Sara thought the sketch looked like our Amanda. Are you saying that the sketch was of the woman in the accident, and that this woman was driving a Volvo, and it was stolen?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“Well, our Amanda would have no reason to drive another make car unless of course her car was being repaired. But even so, Patrick would have given her another Mercedes to drive.” She shook her head, as though unable to process the information. “And stealing a car? Not our Amanda.” She stood. “I’d like to go see this woman.”
“We can’t do that, Mrs. Milligan.”
“Why not?”
Charles reached for his wife’s hand again, and gave her a firm look. Joyce Milligan closed her eyes and released a heavy sigh, then sat back down.
“I’m getting to that,” Zach smiled. Joyce Milligan raised her hand in apology.
“Do you know if your daughter had a male friend who was in his late fifties?”
“Not that we’re aware of.” She turned to her husband, “Right, Charles?”
“I’m not aware of any such person. But then, she wouldn’t have a conversation with me about such things.”
“Are you suggesting the woman involved in the accident was having an affair?” Joyce Milligan asked.
“No,” Jessie intervened. “We’re still investigating the accident.”
“Well, I can assure you, our daughter isn’t the type to cheat on her husband. She loved her family.”
“No one is suggesting your daughter was cheating, Mrs. Milligan,” Zach said. “We’re just compiling information for our investigation.”
“How about male relatives?” he asked.
“Our entire family lives on the west coast.”
“Was Amanda involved in church activities?”
“Our granddaughter attends a parochial school,” she answered. “I’m sure Amanda helps out at the church and school on occasion, but I’ve never heard her refer to anyone who was older.” Joyce Milligan’s face showed a gamut of emotions.
“Later,” Zach continued, “another one of our detectives, who happened to be at the hospital when Jane Doe arrived, looked in on her so we could finish up our investigation. When he saw her, she was c
onscious and speaking to him. Unfortunately, she couldn’t tell him anything, because she didn’t seem to know who she was. He questioned her for a while, but to no avail. He stepped away to take a phone call and when he returned, she was gone.”
Mrs. Milligan gasped. “Where did she go?”
“No one seems to know that,” Jessie said. “Security checked the entire hospital, called dispatch to send a few cars out to check the surrounding neighborhoods, but that proved to be futile. Detective Bradshaw, who spent most of the time with her waiting in the ER, sat with the department’s sketch artist,” she said, pulling the sketch out of the file, and handed it to the woman, “and this is what they came up with.”
“Oh my God, that’s our daughter. That’s our Amanda.”
Charles reached for the sketch. “I’m not so sure, Joyce. It’s a likeness of her, but I’m just not sure that it’s her.”
“That’s Amanda.” Mrs. Milligan rubbed her fingers over the sketch as though she were touching her daughter’s cheek. “What did Sara say when she saw the sketch?”
“That’s why she came into the precinct. She’d seen the sketch around town and was quite adamant it was her sister.”
“Detective Kensington, did you say you spoke to the woman who was in the accident?”
“I did.”
“Well, what did you think when you saw Amanda’s wedding picture? Did it look like this woman?”
“I’m not sure Mrs. Milligan.” Jessie thought there might have been a resemblance between the two women, but the hair color was wrong, and her face looked different. It wasn’t a good idea to give the mother false hope. “Has your daughter ever had any work done on her face?”
“You mean, like plastic surgery?”
“Yes.”
The Milligans looked at one another, an astonished expression on their faces. “Oh God, I can’t believe I forgot to mention it. The poor thing. It was right after her second miscarriage . . . there was a terrible fire in the house. Amanda was sleeping when the fire broke out.” Her hands bridged over her nose. “Thank God, the firemen moved quickly. She could have been burnt to a crisp. After that, she had some skin graft work done, and then some surgery. It changed her looks somewhat, but not a lot.” Her shoulders shuddered.
12
Two law enforcement vehicles followed behind Detectives Gerard and Kensington to the Sawyer residence at W 87th Street.
“Boy, I wouldn’t mind living in this neighborhood,” Jessie said, when they pulled up in front of the mansion. “We’re obviously in the wrong field.”
“That’s for sure.”
“How about we pool our money together and go into the car dealership business?”
Zach laughed. “I might have enough to get a chop shop going, but that’s about it.” He turned to Jessie. “Hey, does that mean you and me are a thing?”
“Not a chance, hotshot. We aren’t anything.”
“So the other night was just a try-out?”
“No. The other night was a mistake.” There. It was out. She’d finally said it.
“Yeah, I guess I have to agree with you,” Zach said smiling to himself. He liked giving her a dose of her own medicine and wondered if it would have any affect on her. He gave her a side-glance to check her reaction and she didn’t disappoint. She clamped her mouth shut and exited the vehicle. He smiled at her body language. It was just the reaction he was hoping to see. A rush of confidence flowed through him knowing it was her nature to fight a relationship with him until the bitter end, but he was a patient man. He sensed she was feeling awkward by the way she averted her eyes from his. He tapped her on the arm anxious to break the ice.
“What?” she said.
“You ready to go inside?”
“You bet.”
“I’m praying Mr. Milligan didn’t compromise our evidence, but I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
Jessie was mesmerized as she stood looking at the front of the house. “Standing in front of this place reminds me that I’m not living the good life. This place looks like the Taj Mahal, for chrissake.”
The exterior of the house was a classic Beaux Arts structure, with a light brick and limestone façade. Three law enforcement vehicles parked in the middle of the street blocking anyone from entering or exiting. Officers directed traffic around the parked cars.
A couple walking their dog stopped and watched with puzzled expressions. A few seconds later, the woman was on her cell phone.
“It won’t be long now before the entire friggin’ neighborhood is camping out here,” Zach said with sarcasm.
“Fascination,” Jessie responded. “Pure fascination.”
The man called out to the detectives. “Is everything all right in there?” he pointed toward the Sawyer house.
“Nothing to be alarmed about, sir. We’re merely doing an investigation.” The man stepped forward, encroaching on the detectives’ space. The quick movement of Zach’s stop gesture caused the small white dog to bark incessantly. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you and your dog to step back.”
The woman bent down, scooped the dog up off the pavement and cradled him in her arms, rocking him like a baby. The dog continued to growl despite the woman’s attempt to control his temperament.
“Uh, sure.” He jerked back, and glanced at the woman standing next to him. “But if there’s something we need to be concerned about, you’ll be sure to notify everyone in the neighborhood, right?”
“The operative word here, sir, is if. Now, please step back and let us do our jobs.”
As Zach suspected, a collection of neighbors could be seen walking down the sidewalks headed toward the Sawyer residence.
Zach turned to one of the two officers who’d trailed behind him. “You guys have crowd control.”
They both nodded their agreement and one held up a reel of yellow tape. Zach nodded in agreement. The tape would be a good barrier to keep people away from their investigation.
Jessie was at the front door examining the frame around the front door. “There doesn’t appear to be any point of forced entry but let’s not be hasty.” With guns drawn, they entered the home, each going in different directions one after the other shouting “clear”.
Shortly after, the team congregated in the entryway to divvy the floors to check for evidence. Jessie’s mouth gaped at the statues adorning the gothic columns. Large planters housed trees. She walked over and touched a leaf. “Holy shit, these are real!” She gasped and walked around shaking her head. “Talk about opulence? Oh my God.” She scanned the room slowly, taking it all in. “I’ve always wondered what this place looked like inside.”
“Seeing this place,” Zach said shaking his head “makes you wonder where the money came from.”
“How can you say that? If he has a successful dealership, he can afford all these luxuries, and besides Gerard, we can’t convict on what he owns. But if all this stuff is the byproduct of ripping off the public, this scumbag needs to be stopped.”
“His dealership is in financial trouble.”
“So maybe he bought this stuff when times were good.”
“Okay, okay,” Zach raised his hand, “maybe you’re right.”
Jessie’s hand slid over the arm of an upholstered chair decorated in 18th Century French provincial. “Not necessarily my taste, but nonetheless beautiful,” she mumbled aloud to anyone listening.
The theme was continued into the dining room with a light colored sideboard. Antique dishes, apparently from all the countries they’d visited, were held up by a groove on the shelf and rested against the back. A long oval table with wooden chairs and thick yellow cushions on the seat made the room complete. Overhead, a large elegant chandelier hung from the ceiling. It had drip candles and glass shades.
“So what do you think this place is worth?” she asked her partner.
“Oh, probably a mere eight to ten Mil . . . without the furnishings, maybe more.”
“My God, I’ve never been in a home wort
h so much money. I only thought movie stars and sports icons lived in places like this—not car dealers.” She picked up speed and walked into the kitchen, shouting a question to him along the way. “So how many people do you think live in this place?” She didn’t wait for his answer because she stopped when she saw the kitchen. An investigator was snapping pictures while another was dusting for prints. Jessie called out to her partner who was out of sight. “Hey, Gerard. Come in here. I want you to see this.”
He entered the kitchen. “One of the investigators just found blood on the bedroom carpet,” he said before she’d had a chance to point out the mess in the kitchen.
“How much blood?”
“A drop or two, and no signs of an attempted clean up.”
“Listen, if Sawyer is responsible for his wife’s disappearance, would he have been dumb enough to leave so many pieces of evidence behind. Would he?” she asked.
“Yeah, dumb like a fox,” Zach said. “He could have been in a hurry to get the hell out of here, or he could have figured we’d never suspect him of being so careless. This could be the thing that tips the scales and blows up his entire enterprise. You and I both know that sooner or later these assholes screw up. He can’t outsmart us forever.” His eyes continued to scan the area. “If he isn’t doing something illegal, then we’ve wasted a lot of the taxpayers’ money keeping the radar on him.”
Jessie moved in closer to her partner. He inhaled the scent of her, and fought off the urge to pull her into his arms and smother her with his mouth. The sexy grin on his face told her she was standing too close. She moved away. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, you smell real good,” he inhaled deeply then flashed a sexy smile. “It beats smelling that curdled milk on the counter.” Sensing her discomfort, he grinned. If only he could break through that barrier.
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