G&K01 - The Last Witness

by KT Roberts

  Gabi yanked her hand back. “No. I’m staying right here.”

  “Is something wrong here, Ms. Alexander?” Zach asked.

  “No . . . nothing—”

  The hum of the garage door raising drew the child’s attention. She darted for the door. “Daddy, the cops are here.”

  “What’s going on in here?” Patrick Sawyer asked when he entered the house with groceries in his arms.

  “Sir, we’re Detectives Gerard and Kensington from the Two-one Precinct and we’d like to talk to you. Is there a place where we can speak in private?”

  “Sure. What’s this all about? Your boss trying to give me more grief?” He rolled his eyes in disgust. “We can go outside.” He handed the grocery bags to Maria, and turned to his daughter. “It’s fine, munchkin. Get that worried look off your face.”

  “I’m scared, Daddy.”

  He smoothed her hair with his hand. “Don’t be scared, Gabi. We don’t even know why the detectives are here. You stay in here with Maria while I find out what they want. Okay?”

  “Why can’t I listen too?”

  “Gabrielle,” he pointed toward the other room. “Now!”

  She turned on her heels and stomped out of the room. Sawyer, who was a tall imposing figure had a trim build like a marine, led the detectives outside. His jaw muscle flickered as he sat down on the bench. It was no secret he wasn’t a fan of the NYPD.

  His face flushed with anger. “If this is another one of your boss’ ploys to get my goat, he’ll wish he hadn’t bothered.”

  “Mr. Sawyer,” Zach said firmly, “is that a threat?”

  “No, Detective. But it’s a promise that I’ll go directly to the mayor over his harassment. So you might want to think twice about your reason for being here.”

  “I can assure you sir, in these strained economic times, the city doesn’t have money to throw away to harass people.” Zach’s brow arched. “Now, may I tell you why we’re here?”

  “Yes. Enlighten me, will you?”

  “We came to discuss your wife, Amanda.”

  “What about Amanda?” he said, a curious expression on his face.

  “We have reason to believe she’s missing, sir.”

  “No, she’s not,” he guffawed. “Where did you get that silly notion?”

  “Her parents have filed a Missing Persons.”

  “A what? Why would they do that? She’s with her sister in Ohio.”

  “Well, we know she’s not with her sister, because she’s the one who initiated this investigation.”

  His brows furrowed. “Who? That loser?”

  Zach sidestepped his comment. “We hope you’re right about Mrs. Sawyer being in Ohio. If you’ll give us her contact information, we can put this to rest.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t have any. She and her sister . . . I mean, Amanda went to Ohio to visit old school chums—a girlfriend’s get-together. And by the way, I’m not surprised she didn’t take Sara with her. She’s a thorn in everyone’s side.”

  “Have you had contact with your wife since she left?”

  “Just once. That was two days after she left on her trip. Gabi and I were in the theatre, but she did leave a message.

  “Good. Can we listen to that message?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have it anymore, Detectives. Once Gabi listened to it, I erased it.”

  Sawyer gave the detectives a curious frown. “Should I be calling my attorney?”

  “Do you think you need one, Mr. Sawyer?” Jessie asked.

  “Is that a trick question, Detective?”

  “When was the last time you were in your home, Mr. Sawyer?” Zach asked.

  “Oh, geez,” he shifted in place. “It’s been at least a week. Why? Is something wrong with my house?”

  “We have reason to believe there’s been foul play,” Zach said. “That’s why the Milligans filed a missing persons report.”

  “Go on.”

  “We’ve been to your home, and it looks like a crime scene.” Zach added.

  Sawyer’s mouth gaped while he stared at the two detectives. “Crime scene? What do you mean a crime scene?” His body began to shake. He must have sensed he was being watched, because he looked over his shoulder and noticed his daughter standing at the window, her nose pressed up against the glass. He moved slightly from her view. “What do you mean a crime scene?” he said in a hushed voice, his eyes settling on the detectives. “You didn’t do any damage getting into my home, did you?”

  “No. After we obtained a warrant, we used the keys your in-laws have in their possession.”

  “I didn’t even know they had a key. Well, I guess it’s a good thing under the circumstances. Can you take me there?”

  “I’m afraid not, Mr. Sawyer. The area has been roped off until we finish our investigation.”

  He scuffed his hand over his face. “So what does this break-in have to do with my wife?”

  “Mr. Sawyer, would you mind coming downtown so we can continue this conversation?”

  “Sure. Just let me tell Maria to keep an eye on Gabi.” They followed him back into the residence.

  “What’s wrong, Dad?”

  “Nothing, sweetheart. These nice detectives would like to talk to me about something at the car dealership, so I need to go with them. Okay, munchkin? Maria’s starting to fix dinner, so give her a hand, and I’ll see you guys later.”

  “Wait, Dad. I’m going with you.” Gabi made a beeline across the floor. “I’ll get my stuff,” she said over her shoulder just before she hit the steps.

  “Gabi, sweetie,” Sawyer said in a calm voice, “not this time. We can discuss this when I return.”

  “But, Dad. I want to go home.”

  “Gabrielle,” he said in a firm voice, pointing toward the kitchen, “I’m going back to the city with these two detectives. When I come back, we will discuss it.”

  The expression on the young girl’s face echoed the discord she was feeling. She whipped around and stomped her feet again, exiting the room. Maria walked back into the living room and frowned at Gabi who passed by her.

  “Is something wrong?” Maria asked.

  “These detectives say Amanda is missing, and my home looks like a crime scene,” he said in a low whisper.

  “Oh no,” she gasped, her hand covering her mouth. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Look, you go take care of business, I’ll take care of Gabi.”

  Zach glanced over at his partner to see if her facial expression echoed what he was thinking when Sawyer communicated with the woman. Maria’s expression of adornment was like a neon sign. Suddenly, a plausible motive surfed through the detective’s mind.

  “Thank you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled money from his billfold and handed it to her. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Okay, Detectives, I’m ready.” Zach and Jessie sandwiched Sawyer between them when they exited the house, ready for the trip to the precinct. When they reached the outside, he turned to them. “Thank you for not blowing my story in front of my daughter. She’d be devastated if anything happened to her mother.”

  “How about you, Mr. Sawyer?” she asked.

  “What a ridiculous question, Detective. Of course, I’d be upset.”

  17

  “You have the right to remain silent, you have the right to an attorney, anything you say or . . ..”

  “What the hell is this for?” Sawyer shouted angrily. “You say my wife is missing, my house looks like a crime scene, and you’re reading me my rights?”

  “It’s for everyone’s protection,” Jessie assured him.

  “You think I would do something to my wife? My God, who do you think I am?”

  “No one is accusing you of anything, Mr. Sawyer,” she said. “It’s just a formality. We’re collecting information so we can solve this investigation and find your wife.”

  He exhaled dramatically, and his shoulders relaxed like a tire deflating.
“I’m sorry. I’m just so shocked by the news because she left to go see her girlfriends. Do you have evidence she’s missing based on the investigation you conducted at my house? Is there blood or something?”

  “We can’t discuss any of that with you, Mr. Sawyer. I’m sure you can understand.”

  “It’s interesting that you should ask whether we saw blood though,” Jessie interjected.

  “It seems like a logical question.” He shook his head. “If my house looks like a crime scene, it had to be a break-in.”

  “Tell us about the last time you saw your wife. You know, give us a detailed description of what transpired before she left?” Jessie said.

  “Uh, okay. We usually get up early in the morning. I’d showered and went into the kitchen for breakfast. Amanda was on the phone when I sat down to eat my toast. When she ended her call, she was pretty excited. She told me it was her friend, Jessica something . . . I can’t remember her last name, but she’s a former classmate of Amanda’s . . . anyway, she wanted Amanda and her sister Sara to fly out that morning to Ohio for a week of fun.”

  “Just like that? A spur of the moment decision without any prior planning?” Zach inquired.

  “Yes,” his head nodded in agreement, “just like that.” A wry grin curled at the corners of his mouth.

  “Didn’t that seem a little odd to you?”

  “Hell, no. Nothing Amanda does is ever odd. Amanda has a mind of her own, no matter what I suggest.”

  “I sense a little irritation in your voice, Mr. Sawyer,” Jessie said. “Were you and Mrs. Sawyer having marital problems?”

  “No more than other couples,” he responded coolly. “Obviously, we don’t agree on everything, but—” He stopped talking and crossed his arms, slamming them against his chest like a belligerent child. “Detectives, what’s this really all about? You’re wasting time asking me these silly ass questions.”

  “Mr. Sawyer, we’re just collecting the facts. The only thing we do know for sure is that your house looks like a crime scene. What time did your wife leave the house?”

  “I guess around nine forty-five in the morning.” His response was more subdued.

  “Did you drive her to the airport?”

  “No. She drove to Ohio so she’d have her own car.”

  “What kind of a car does your wife drive?”

  “She drives a 2007 Mercedes E-Class station wagon.”

  “And the color?”

  “Granite Gray Metallic, license plate says, ‘mybenz’”

  “Do you remember what she was wearing the morning she left?”

  He chuckled. “Are you kidding me? She has a closet full of clothes, and she usually changes at least five times before she’s satisfied with what she has on.”

  “Do you know what shoes she was wearing?” Zach asked.

  “No. If you were at my house, you looked in her closet and you know it looks like a shoe store. So I ask you . . . what do you think?” He smirked.

  “Mr. Sawyer,” Detective Kensington asked, “what time did you leave the house that morning?”

  “I left right after Amanda did.”

  “Did you actually see her drive down the road?”

  “Yes, I stood at the curb and waved.”

  “And what time did you say that was?” Jessie paced back and forth.

  “I already told you. It was about nine forty-five in the morning.”

  “And you’re certain of that?”

  “Yes, because I looked at my watch.”

  “What time did you leave?”

  “How many times do I have to answer this question?”

  “As many times as I want to ask it,” Jessie said curtly.

  “It was nine forty-five in the morning. I had a meeting at the dealership at eleven o’clock and I know I wasn’t late.”

  “Mr. Sawyer, your dealership is all the way across town. How did you make it there by eleven o’clock?”

  “I can’t be sure because I didn’t check my watch again, but maybe I was late for my meeting and just didn’t realize it.”

  “Okay. Who were you meeting?”

  “A customer.”

  “What was the customer’s name?”

  “I’m embarrassed to say I don’t remember.” His face flushed.

  “Wouldn’t the name of the customer be listed on your calendar?” Zach fired back.

  “Normally I would have added it, but this was a last minute walk-in. My secretary called and informed me.”

  “You know, Mr. Sawyer, this is beginning to sound like a well-rehearsed script.” Jessie paced the room “You don’t know exactly where your wife is, you don’t know the last name of the friend she’s visiting, you don’t have a phone number. You had a meeting with a customer, but you can’t remember who you met. What is this, a game to you?”

  “I’m telling you the truth.”

  “That’s good, Mr. Sawyer, because we will find out.”

  “I should hope so, Detective.”

  Jessie continued. Her hands were securely planted on her hips. “And where did you go after the meeting with the customer, whose name you can’t remember?”

  “I went out the lot—where else would I go?”

  “Can anyone account for that?”

  “Does anyone need to, Detective?” He answered irritably. “Look, I want to know what you’re doing about my wife? What proof do you have that she’s missing?”

  “Your sister-in-law, Sara. The one you said was with your wife,” Jessie said matter-of-factly. “She told us Amanda picks her up every Wednesday, and she didn’t show last Wednesday.”

  He snorted. “And that’s what you’re basing your investigation on? Something a drug addict tells you. Are you kidding me?”

  “Well, Mr. Sawyer, you don’t seem to be able to give us much to work with. Do you have the cell phone that contained the voice mail your wife left?”

  “I told you before,” he argued. “After Gabi listened to the message, I tossed the phone and purchased another.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “It was time. That’s why, and . . . and, because I’m constantly being hounded by customers who complain.”

  “You mean all those commercials on television with you boasting about being number one in customer satisfaction is a lie?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “So why the disposable phones?” Zach asked.

  “It’s just easier.”

  “Tell us about this cruise you’re supposed to be on with your family.”

  “The cruise?”

  “Yeah, the cruise. Several people have informed us you called and told them you were going on a cruise. We’ve checked the cruise logs and obviously, your name didn’t appear on any of the rosters. Care to explain that?”

  “I was planning a surprise for Amanda and Gabi, but when she decided to visit with her friends instead, I didn’t want to ruin her excitement about seeing them, so I cancelled it.”

  “So you cancelled it?” Zach asked.

  “Yes,” he said with a shrug.

  “Which cruise line was this? We’d like to check it out.”

  “Why? Because you think I’m lying?” He shot up out of his chair. “I’m out of here. Call me when you have something concrete to tell me. Don’t waste my time on your fishing expedition.”

  “Mr. Sawyer, I know you’re upset, but if you don’t sit down this second, I’ll put you in a holding cell until I get my answers. I can hold you for seventy-two hours.” Jessie gave him a defiant stare.

  “I know the laws, Detective.”

  “Refusing to cooperate sends a clear message you’re lying.”

  Sawyer gave her an empty stare, took in a deep breath to settle himself as if reconsidering his belligerence, and eased back down into the chair. “I’d like to know about my wife and what the police are doing to find her.”

  “The cruise line, Mr. Sawyer?” Zach persisted.

  “I don’t know,” his hand flew in the air, �
��I think it was Carnival. Call my travel agent, Barry Shackle—Around the World Travel Agency on Broadway.”

  “Did you use a fictitious name when you booked the travel arrangements, Mr. Sawyer?”

  “No, Detective, I did not.”

  “So just to be clear, Mr. Sawyer, you used your real name when you made the arrangements for the cruise?”

  “Unless Shackle made one up. Check with him if you don’t believe me.”

  “We will. Now about that tossed phone, the one that has your wife’s last message. Where did you dispose it?” Zach fired back. He was doing his best to wear down Sawyer’s defenses. He’d already made a judgment call regarding his guilt based on the house and his reactions to his wife’s disappearance. If the man thought his performance was convincing, he had another thought coming. Zach was even more determined to put the guy away. “Your hesitation in answering leads me to believe you have something to hide. Is that a fact, Mr. Sawyer?”

  “Absolutely not. I can’t remember where I disposed of it to tell you the truth.”

  “What did her message say?”

  “That she was sorry she left without saying goodbye.”

  “Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. You told us you saw her in the morning. You even waved goodbye to her.”

  “The message,” he huffed, “Detective Gerard, was for our daughter, Gabi. Amanda left before Gabi came home from her friend’s house, and she was apologizing for not waiting.”

  “Why couldn’t she wait?”

  “She wanted to get an early start due to the long drive she had ahead.”

  “Are you having financial problems?”

  “Not at the moment, but we’re doing what everyone else is doing—cutting back.”

  “Does cutting back include throwing your disposable phone in a public trash can?”

  “I never told you I tossed it in a public trashcan,” he said with a twinge of forced calmness.

  “Alright. Then where did you toss it?”

  “What is it you want to know, Detectives? I told you . . . I would give you whatever information you required.”

  “Good,” Jessie shoved a pad and pen over toward him. “You said your daughter was at her friend’s for a sleepover. Is that correct?”