by Beverly Long
She’d have preferred to talk to both of them but she didn’t feel inclined to wait around for Ben Wallace to come home. “How long have you lived in this house?”
“Six years last May.”
After the Antler kidnapping. “Did you have another home in Dover before that?”
“No. We moved here from Billings, Montana, when Ben got his teaching job.”
“Are you aware that a child disappeared in Dover about ten years ago? Her name was Corrine Antler.”
“Ben had one of the Antler boys in his social studies class last year. He’s...well, I guess you could say that he’s got some issues. Acts up in class. Disturbs other kids. Ben works with a team of teachers and when they were discussing the kid’s performance, one of the other teachers told him the story. It doesn’t excuse how the kid is acting but that’s a hell of a thing to happen to a family.”
“I understand that you attended a party hosted by Melissa Wayne in July. Do you recall who was there?”
“Sure. It wasn’t a big thing, just a cookout. It was Ben and me. And Melissa and Candiss. My sister, Maggie. Oh, and I think Melissa’s sister Alice was also there.”
Matched exactly what Melissa Wayne had told her. “Do you recall, was there any discussion at this cookout about Corrine Antler or the Antler family in general?”
Patrice shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said. “Ben doesn’t discuss the kids in his school with anybody but me. He got burned years ago when he did that and somebody in the group was the kid’s uncle. It got ugly.” She stopped. Gave Rena a smile.
This was going nowhere fast. She should probably just admit defeat and go back to Baywood. “Thank you for your—”
“We might have talked about the foundation,” Patrice said.
“Foundation?” Rena repeated.
“The Corrine Antler Foundation. I guess when Corrine went missing, donations poured in. The family set up a foundation with the money. On the fifth year of Corrine’s disappearance, they paid for a new playground at the local park. Just recently, when it was the tenth anniversary, they donated money so that ten high school kids, kids who were in Corrine’s kindergarten class, could go on a field trip to Washington, DC.”
Rena could almost feel her blood pressure go up. “And you think this was discussed at Melissa Wayne’s cookout.”
“I think so. I can’t remember the specifics but it was a pretty impressive thing for the Antler family to do.”
“Can you recall anything specifically that Alice Quest might have said?”
“Somebody said that it was a cool thing for the family to do in that nobody would have known if they’d taken the money for a nice long family vacation. That might have been Alice.” She shrugged apologetically. “We had some wine. Things can get a little fuzzy.”
It was enough to know that Alice Quest had been in Dover in July and that there had been some conversation about Corrine Antler. Rena had her hand on the door when she turned.
“Does your husband like teaching?” she asked.
“Uh...yeah. I think so. I mean, it’s all he’s ever done.”
“My husband is going back to school to become a teacher,” Rena said, feeling as if she owed the woman an explanation. “After fifteen years in another career. That he didn’t hate,” she added.
“Then he must really want to do it.” She paused. “But you’re not as enthusiastic about the change.”
“Oh no. It’s fine.” She couldn’t very well voice to this woman, this stranger, her greatest fear. That this career switch was a symptom of a bigger thing. That Gabe would suddenly decide he was in a marriage he didn’t hate, but why not shake it up for the hell of it? She couldn’t tell this woman that she was a little freaked out because he was growing his hair long and he’d started reading dystopian fiction. She’d sound like a nut. She pulled the door open. “I intend to visit with your sister, Maggie. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell her about our conversation.” She wanted Maggie’s own recollection of the evening and all conversations, not one that had been influenced by Patrice saying, here’s what I told her.
“Maggie is out of the country. Three weeks in France.”
Rena wanted to be Maggie. “When is she expected back?”
“Monday of next week.”
If they hadn’t found Emma Whitman by then, it was going to be pretty grim. “Thank you,” she said.
Rena walked to her car, started it and called A.L. She got his voice mail. She waited for the beep. “I have confirmation that there was conversation about Corrine Antler at the cookout that Alice Quest attended in July. Call me.” She hung up.
Sixteen
A.L. saw Rena’s call come in but let it go to voice mail.
He was in the process of dialing Devin Raine, Leah’s boss at the law firm who had failed to call him back after he’d left a second message late last night. If the guy didn’t answer this time, A.L. was going to be pissed.
It was answered on the second ring. Lucky for Mr. Raine.
“This is Devin,” he said.
“Mr. Raine, this is Detective McKittridge with the Baywood Police Department. I’ve left a couple messages.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
“I’d like to have a minute of your time so that I could ask you some questions.”
“About?”
Mr. Raine was definitely an attorney. He wasn’t going to agree to anything until he had more information. “About Leah Whitman. I understand that you’re her supervising attorney at Bailey Shepherd.”
“I am. I would...uh...be happy to chat with you, Detective. I’d prefer to do it in person and I have to admit that I’m a bit rank right now. I’ve been part of the search team and it’s been a hot few hours. If you can give me time for a quick shower, I’d be happy to meet you at the coffee shop on the corner of White Avenue and Mercy Street.”
A.L. knew the place. A lot of cops stopped there for a cup of joe. “Fine. Shall we say forty-five minutes?”
“I’ll wear a blue shirt,” Devin said.
“Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”
He’d already had one cup of coffee before Devin Raine walked in. He waved at the man. Got a nod in return. Devin didn’t head for the table. Instead he stepped into line. It was another seven minutes before he made his way over, with some sort of iced coffee. He extended his free hand. “Detective McKittridge?” he said.
“Yes.” A.L. passed him over a business card. “Thanks for seeing me. How was the search today?”
“Warm,” Devin said. “And pretty depressing if you want the truth,” he added. “We’re miles away from the day care at this point.”
A.L. had been reading the daily updates. The numbers of volunteers were dwindling. Today they’d had forty-two. Still a respectable number but by next week, they’d likely be in the twenties. People had to go back to their lives.
Every day that Emma remained missing it became less and less likely that she’d be found alive. Those were the hard facts. Maybe nobody was saying it but every cop knew it. He suspected by now that Leah and Troy Whitman had also stumbled across the statistics online.
In a few days, they’d even change out the canine unit. Would definitely add more dogs that were specifically trained to find human remains. “I stopped by your office yesterday, spent a little time with Ms. Pistolle. She told me you’d be the best person to talk to if I had questions specific to Leah Whitman.”
Devin said nothing.
“What can you tell me about her work?” A.L. asked.
“It’s good. She’s very talented. Asks the right questions. Works hard. Stays late when we need her to.”
“Speaking of work hours, can you tell me what time she got in this past Wednesday?”
“The day Emma went missing?”
“Yes.”
“I c
an’t say exactly but I know that she was there by 10:00. We were both in the conference room on a call. I remember that night, when I heard the news, I couldn’t get it out of my head that she’d been sitting there, helping me negotiate communal property, in a contentious divorce, when her own child was at risk. It just felt surreal in retrospect.”
By ten. That pretty much matched what Leah had said and what the video at the casino had confirmed. “She get along with her coworkers?”
“Leah is a nice person. She’s easy to get along with.”
“So there’s nobody at work that she’s had any issues with?” A.L. asked.
“There were words, recently, between her and my other paralegal. Martha has been there longer and was upset that Leah got promoted to a senior paralegal. She seemed to believe the promotion should have gone to her.”
“But you didn’t think so.”
“I don’t think you award tenure. You award performance and attitude.”
“What’s Martha’s last name?” A.L. asked.
“I’m not sure why that’s important,” Devin said.
“I’m going to want to follow up with Martha. Right now we’re looking at anybody who might have a beef with either Leah or her husband, Troy, and want to take it out on their kid.”
“Martha wouldn’t do that. She was angry, maybe a little hurt, and she said some things she should not have said. Leah didn’t even bring it to my attention. It was overheard by someone else who told their boss who came to me. I addressed it with Martha and it’s over. I want it to be over. I don’t like dissension on my team.”
He was probably a good guy who liked it when everybody played nice. Unfortunately, that wasn’t how the real world worked. “Martha?” A.L. asked again, pen in hand.
“Martha Johnston.”
“Contact information?”
Devin thumbed through his phone. “I’ve only got a phone, no address.”
“I’ll take it.”
He rattled it off and A.L. copied it down.
“Does Leah have any client contact?” A.L. asked.
“Of course. Lots of routine requests go to her and she handles them.”
“Bailey Shepherd does family law, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“Maybe some acrimonious divorces or ugly child-custody cases.”
Devin nodded. “We’ve had some.”
“Any that you can recall where Leah was the point person, that somebody might have construed that she was calling the shots either for or against somebody?”
“When the issues are hot, we don’t expect our paralegals to field those calls. I would handle those.”
A.L. suspected the paralegals handled plenty of dicey issues. But it didn’t look like he was going to get anywhere with these questions. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Raine.”
“Happy to do it. What I want most is for Leah to have her little girl back.”
* * *
He used a reverse lookup to find Martha Johnston’s address. She lived in a condo, close enough to Bailey Shepherd that she probably walked to work. He drove to her apartment, hoping that she was there.
The building was old but it had been extensively remodeled with high-end finishes. There were eight condos in the building. He pressed the buzzer next to her name and looked directly into the camera.
“Yes,” she said.
“Detective McKittridge, Baywood Police Department. I’d like to speak with you.”
“Why?”
She wasn’t a lawyer but she definitely had learned something from them. “A few questions about your coworker, Leah Whitman.”
She didn’t say anything but the buzzer sounded and he grabbed for the door. Then he walked up a flight of stairs and knocked on 202.
A woman opened the door. She was early forties, about his age. She wore pajama pants and an Arizona State T-shirt. “Martha Johnston?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
He opened his badge and held it steady. She studied it for a minute, then stepped back to let him in. Her condo had glossy wood floors and bay windows, and the kitchen, dining room and living room were all sort of the same big space. She pulled out one of the stools that was pushed up to the kitchen counter. She sat and pointed to the other one. He took it and got out his notebook and pen.
“I wanted to talk with you about your relationship with Leah Whitman.”
“Leah and I don’t have a relationship. We’re both paralegals working under the same supervising attorney at Bailey Shepherd. But I suspect you already know that.”
She didn’t say it with an attitude, just very matter-of-fact. He decided to get more direct. “How do you and Leah get along?”
“For the most part, it’s fine. She’s a very competent paralegal and I don’t generally have to pick up much of her slack.”
“For the most part, you say. What about the other part?”
She smiled. “Mostly everyone loves Leah but she isn’t as nice as she wants everyone to believe.”
He wondered if Martha knew about Leah videotaping her mother at the casino. “Can you give me some examples?”
“I’ve seen her take credit for other people’s work. Not mine. She knows that I’d call her out on it. But other people. I’ve heard her on the phone with her husband. Quite frankly, I’m not sure how they’re still married. But when the partners are around, she is sweet. Yeah, Sweet Leah.”
“I understand that Leah was recently promoted at work to a senior paralegal. How did you feel about that?”
“Not great. It should have gone to me. But I’m not as good as Leah in managing people’s perception. That leaves me the choice of voting with my feet. But I like the work and I really like being able to walk to work. So for now, I’ll stay.”
“Where were you last Wednesday, at about 7:15 a.m.?”
“Just finishing my workout. I run on the treadmill every morning for thirty minutes.”
“Anybody be able to verify that?” he asked.
“There’s never usually anybody else in the gym but everything is on camera, like most of this building. Behind our doors is about the only privacy we get.”
He was pretty confident that this was her way of telling him that she hadn’t snuck a five-year-old up the back stairs.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Johnston.”
“You’re welcome. I feel badly for Leah and her husband. A missing child is something that no parent should have to go through. But my only advice is, don’t be fooled. There’s more to Leah than you’ll first think.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, as he dialed Rena, A.L. couldn’t seem to get those words out of his head. Don’t be fooled. There’s more to Leah than you’ll first think. When Rena answered, he repeated them to her. “What the hell do you make of that?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Melissa Wayne said we should be looking harder at the parents, that Alice had told her stuff. I sort of shoved that aside at the time because I was having a hard time getting my head around the fact that Alice Quest lied both about knowing Dover and also knowing anything about Corrine Antler. Why would she do that?”
“I think we’ve got a couple things to talk to Alice about. I’ll meet you at her house.”
“Are we going to call first?” Rena asked.
“Hell, no. We’re done being polite.”
“She wants us to talk to her attorney.”
“She can call her and have her join us. I don’t mind,” A.L. said.
Twenty minutes later, when he and Rena stood in Alice’s foyer, he told her the same thing. “You’re not under arrest, Alice. We’re just asking questions, trying to clarify information. But if you want your lawyer here, by all means, call her up.”
“It’s late on a Saturday afternoon. I’m sure she’s not in the office.”
Alice stared at A.L. “I may regret this but I really don’t think you’re the enemy. Let’s sit in the family room.”
Rena sat and didn’t waste any time. “Why did you lie about knowing Dover, Wisconsin? Your sister lives there. You’ve visited there multiple times.”
“I don’t know why I lied. You said you’d been to Dover—it caught me off guard, and suddenly, I didn’t want there to be anything that tied me to the area or to Corrine Antler. I swear to you, I didn’t even think of Corrine Antler until I called my sister on Thursday to tell her what had happened. I didn’t want her to hear it on the news. She was the one who reminded me about Corrine.”
“Wasn’t there discussion at your sister’s Fourth of July party about the Corrine Antler Foundation?” Rena asked.
“If there was, I wasn’t paying attention. I spent the night at my sister’s so I wasn’t driving. As a result, I was hitting the margaritas pretty hard.”
“Still, once your sister reminds you, you don’t think that you should have picked up the phone and called us? You had no way of knowing that we were going to stumble upon the connection,” A.L. said.
“You’re right,” Alice said. “I think I got scared. It really dawned on me when Brenda Owen called and told me this thing was going to hang over my head for the rest of my life. People were going to blame me.” She paused. “I got freaked out. I’m not proud of that and I’m sorry I lied.”
“Did you lie about Emma Whitman being in your backyard?” Rena asked.
“She has never been in my backyard,” Alice said.
They were at a stalemate.
“Your sister seemed to believe that you might not consider the Whitmans to be very good parents,” Rena said. “What can you tell us about that?”
“It was months ago. Maybe even six months ago. Leah and Troy both ended up at the day care late one afternoon to pick up Emma. There’d been some miscommunication about who was doing what. I’ve seen it happen before with many parents. They usually laugh about it and that’s the end of it.”
