by Beverly Long
John said nothing. He likely figured this was going somewhere.
“And I think my daughter generally has good instincts about people. But if you give me any reason to think that you’re not an okay guy, then I’m going to hunt you down. There will be no place that you can hide.”
“Daddy,” Traci cried.
John put his hand on Traci’s arm. “It’s okay. I get where your dad is coming from. I’ve got two younger sisters.” He turned and looked A.L. in the eye. “You’re not going to have any reason to hunt me down.”
“Excellent,” A.L. said. He looked at Traci. “From now on, whatever dating you two do will be with the full knowledge of your mother and me.”
“Mom knows?” Traci asked.
“Oh yeah. You’re going to her house immediately after we finish here.”
“How mad is she?” Traci asked.
“I don’t think she’s mad. Concerned, yes. The thing your mom and I need you to know is that we love you. We know that we can’t protect you from every hurt that is coming your way. But we’ve all got a better chance if we’re honest with each other.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.” With that she sort of threw herself into his arms, the way she might have done when she was eight or nine. When she really was a little girl.
“I love you, Traci. Very much,” he said.
* * *
He went back to work after Traci and John left his apartment, not knowing if he and Jacqui had done the right thing. It felt like they had but that was the thing about parenting. You never really knew.
Rena’s desk was empty. He did not expect her to be there. She’d sent a text that she’d heard from a county cop who’d spotted a store that sold bib overalls and red Wisconsin T-shirts. Rena was on her way to check it out.
He sat down, pulled out the investigation file. Started with the list of people they’d talked to. They were missing something, he could feel it. Got to Shana Federer’s name. She’d been fairly confident that she’d seen Kara Wiese in the bathroom prior to 7:30. But multiple parents had confirmed that Kara had been in the room. When he’d asked Kara about Shana Federer, she’d had no real reaction. Maybe some irritation because she didn’t understand the relevance of the question but nothing beyond that.
Claire Potter hadn’t arrived until close to seven thirty and nobody was going to get Claire and Kara mixed up. According to Ferguson’s interview with Tanya Knight, she’d been in the building shortly after seven. It was possible that she’d stopped in the restroom. But surely Shana wouldn’t have gotten Tanya and Kara mixed up. Her child was in Tanya Knight and Olivia Blow’s classroom.
So if there had been someone in the bathroom, and he was pretty confident there had been because she had clearly been embarrassed by the fact, it had to be a parent or the person who’d taken Emma.
In either event, it was somebody who looked very much like Kara Wiese.
But she had no sisters and her mother was dead. Looking further, there were no maternal aunts and only one fraternal aunt in Utah, who looked nothing like her. That information had been verified.
Dead end. Keep looking.
His cell phone buzzed. He picked it up. Holy fuck. Coyote Frogg and his buddy had been located and were currently being transported to the Baywood Police Station for questioning.
He sent a text to Rena, letting her know.
His phone rang in response. “Hey,” he said.
“Good news,” she said.
“Yeah. Where are you?” he asked.
“On my way back.”
“Did you find the store?”
“Yes. And the proprietress, a lovely English woman who married a Wisconsin farmer and opened the store to save her sanity, or so she said, did remember Coyote Frogg and his friend. Her recollection is that they were in a bit of a hurry and only interested in purchasing something to wear. Her selection was limited and they took what fit. It’s the type of store that writes their receipts by hand and she was able to find her copy of the transaction. They paid cash and purchased the clothes the afternoon of Emma’s disappearance.” She stopped. “Do not start without me.”
“You better hurry,” A.L. said.
“Ten minutes.”
It would take him that long to get things set up. “I’ll meet you in Interrogation Room 1.”
* * *
Coyote’s friend’s name was Peyton Dowl. A.L. was willing to bet his left nut that he was some relation to Pierce Dowl, the owner of the white Jeep. He was, however, more interested in Coyote so he left Peyton twiddling his thumbs in a conference room while he ushered Coyote into the interrogation room. Rena introduced herself and passed over a card. Coyote was already cradling A.L.’s card in one closed fist. He’d been advised that he’d been picked up for questioning in an ongoing investigation. He was not yet under arrest.
“Mr. Frogg, can you tell us where you were this past Wednesday morning between 7:00 and 8:00 a.m.?”
“I imagine I was sleeping.”
“Don’t want you to imagine. Want you to think. Where were you?” A.L. asked in his best I don’t tolerate bullshit tone.
“Okay, man. No need to flip out. I was at my house. Pey and I are renting a place east of Highway 94, north of Walnut Road.”
That would be north of the spot they’d intersected with Gi-Gi Thompson, which matched the Thompsons’ statement that the Jeep had headed north.
“Pey is Peyton Dowl?” A.L. asked.
“Yes.”
“Address of your house?” Rena asked.
“Sprint Trail. I have no idea what the house number is. It’s not like I’m having my mail forwarded. But there are only three houses on the road. Ours is the yellow one.”
It was enough. A.L. sent a quick text to get officers on the way. He didn’t hold out much hope. If Emma was there, or even had been there, it was unlikely that Coyote would have offered it up so quickly.
“Anybody be able to verify that you were at that address on Wednesday morning?” A.L. asked.
“Pey.”
“Anybody else?” A.L. asked.
“Ain’t nobody else living there.”
“Mr. Frogg, where were you on Monday of this past week?”
“Pey and me were in Baywood. We were able to pick up some hours at the Go and Glow.”
The Go and Glow was a full-service car wash, the kind where you got out of your car and waited while it went through the automated wash process and was then vacuumed and wiped off by real people. The work was heavily dependent on weather, and A.L. was aware that they hired lots of day labor. They literally doled out wages at the end of every day. “How long have you been working there?”
“Just a few weeks. Pey’s girlfriend lives in Baywood and she lets us stay at her house, especially if it looks like the weather is going to be good for business. Otherwise, we can’t get there very easily. No wheels right now.”
Rena leaned forward. “Let me make sure I understand, Mr. Frogg. You and your roommate, Peyton Dowl, were working at Go and Glow on Monday. Did you work there any other day this past week?”
“Yeah, we worked Tuesday. And I wanted to work on Wednesday but Pey and his old lady got into it and she didn’t want us staying at her place. We caught a ride back to our place with another guy who works at Go and Glow. Which was bullshit because three hours later, she ended up driving there anyway all apologetic and stuff.” Coyote looked up as if something brilliant had just occurred to him. “You can ask her about Wednesday morning. Because she had breakfast at our place. I don’t remember what time it was but I know it was Wednesday because that afternoon she drove us back into Baywood so that we could get to Madison.”
“Slow down,” A.L. said. “You were in Baywood Wednesday afternoon and then you went to Madison?”
“Yeah.”
“How did you get to Madison on Wednesday afterno
on, Mr. Frogg?”
“Pierce drove us.”
“Who is Pierce?”
“Pierce Dowl. Pey’s brother. He drove from Madison where he lives and we met him in Baywood. He drove us back to Madison and dropped us at the train station. We barely made the train.”
“What kind of vehicle does Pierce Dowl drive?”
“He’s got a white Jeep.”
“You took a train on Wednesday from Madison to where?”
“Denver. We went to a concert at the Red Rocks. We just got back today. And I’m minding my own business, walking down the street and a cop picks me up and tells me that I’m wanted for questioning. I don’t know what you think I’ve done but I wasn’t here, man.”
“Do you know Emma Whitman?”
Coyote shook his head.
“Is that a no?” A.L. asked, his eyes going to the tape recorder.
“Yeah. I don’t know any Emma Whitman. I know an Emily White. I went to high school with her.”
A.L.’s gut was churning. He was starting to get a bad feeling that they were way off base here. “Emma Whitman is five years old.”
Now Coyote was frowning at him. “I don’t hang around with five-year-old girls,” he said. He looked first at A.L. and then Rena. “This is just like what happened to my dad. Just like it. Christ, what is it with you cops?”
“Have you read a newspaper or heard the news lately, Mr. Frogg?” Rena asked.
“No. I’ve been gone. I told you that.”
“Mr. Frogg, we have a report of you and Peyton Dowl driving a white Jeep last week and stopping to...help a woman and her two children on the side of the road. Is that correct?”
“Is that what this is about? That woman was a bitch. All we were trying to do was offer a helping hand. Pierce had let us borrow his ride to move some things.”
“Mr. Frogg, we have some video of you on Wednesday afternoon,” Rena said. “You and Peyton Dowl are wearing exactly the same outfit that was purchased that day from a store outside of Baywood. What can you tell me about that?”
“I don’t want to say anything about that.”
“Why is that, Mr. Frogg?”
“Because I don’t think it’s any of your business and it would not be in my best interest.”
Twenty-One
“Mr. Frogg, it is definitely in your best interest to give me a reason why you purchased those clothes on Wednesday,” Rena said.
“Somebody told me that they got drug-sniffing dogs at the train stations. Now, I’m not admitting to anything along those lines, but let’s just say that I felt better if Pey and me were wearing something new.”
A.L. pushed back his chair. “Will you excuse us for a minute, Mr. Frogg?”
“I got nothing but time, I guess.”
When they were both in the hall, A.L. said, “We’re wrong. We’re chasing a damn dead end.” He stopped. “You don’t disagree?” he grilled Rena.
“No.”
“We need to get statements from Peyton Dowl, Pierce Dowl and whoever Peyton’s girlfriend is. If those match up, we need to admit defeat,” A.L. said. “We got nothing here.”
“I know. The train station will have video. We can take a look at that, too.”
“Probably should,” A.L. said. “Can you believe it? Drug-sniffing dogs. No DNA. I really don’t think he has a clue who Emma Whitman is.” He slammed his hand against the wall in frustration.
“I’ll finish this up, A.L. Take a walk. Get a cup of coffee,” Rena said.
“No, I’ll...” He stopped. “Yeah, that’d be good. We’ll catch up later.”
She found him more than ninety minutes later. It was dark outside. He was sitting on a bench outside the building, staring at a lighted water fountain that some charitable organization had decided would be just the thing to beautify downtown Baywood.
“The story checks out. They’re gone,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“We’re just mere mortals, A.L. Don’t beat yourself up. And by the way, no other cell phone in Kara Wiese’s name.”
He nodded. They sat silently for a few minutes. Finally, he turned to her. “Early on, we asked why Emma Whitman?”
“I don’t think we ever answered that,” Rena said gently.
“But we need to. We aren’t going to find her until we figure out why Emma. We need to look at Troy and Leah harder.”
“You really think it’s possible that they’re responsible?”
“I’m not saying they did it. But I think whoever took Emma did it because of them.”
“To make them suffer?” Rena asked. “Who are the candidates?”
“For Leah, her coworker who didn’t get the promotion. But that doesn’t feel right. She was pissed but more pissed at the system that rewards people who suck up.”
“Okay. Who else for Leah?”
“Elaine Broadstreet. I think you and I both think she’s pretty sharp. What if she figured out that Leah had been modifying her work to make her look bad? Remember when we went to Elaine’s house that first time. She said something along the lines that Leah was determined to find fault with her and to have others find fault also.”
“You’re right. We need to ask her,” Rena said.
“Yeah. And the other grandparents, what if they secretly do blame Leah for the poor relationship they have with Troy?” A.L. said.
“Nope. Don’t buy that. They only got choked up when they were talking about their relationship with Troy. And they love him.”
“Loved him enough to try to prevent him from making a bad financial decision. Even at the risk of alienating him. Okay, they’re off the list. For both Leah and Troy.”
“Speaking of Troy. Who wants to hurt him? Maybe any of the three guys at Garage on Division?”
“All possibilities. But all of them genuinely seemed to like working at the garage. Hurting Troy might hurt them ultimately. Pete and Cory are definitely pragmatic enough to see that. I think Davy is, too.”
“Angry customers? The Thompsons?” Rena asked.
“Not angry enough. Gi-Gi was freaked out but I don’t think Barrett thought it was as big a deal as he was letting on.”
“We didn’t find a spurned ex-girlfriend,” Rena mused.
“Only an exuberant friend,” A.L. said.
“Back to square one,” Rena said. “Tomorrow is five days.”
“Long time to keep a child hidden.” If she was still alive. He didn’t add that part. Rena knew the odds were getting slimmer and slimmer with each passing day.
His cell phone buzzed. He looked at the number of the incoming call. It seemed vaguely familiar. “McKittridge,” he answered.
“This is Peitra Jonet returning your call. I’m sorry to be calling so late but you said it was important.”
“This is fine and I won’t take up too much of your time. I have reviewed some information that indicated you had your vehicle serviced at Garage on Division on Wednesday morning. Does that ring a bell with you?”
“Of course. I came in for an oil change. But then they convinced me that my transmission fluid also needed changing so I was there for longer than I expected, sitting in a dark waiting room reading six-month-old magazines,” she said.
“What time would that have been?”
“I got there after 8:00 and was gone by 9:30.”
“Did you see Troy Whitman, the owner?”
“Yeah, he came into the office area about 9:00. I think I surprised him. But we chatted for a few minutes. He’s a nice guy. That night when I heard the news about that little girl, it seemed so odd that I’d been talking to Troy just that morning. I need to talk to him again but there’s no way I’m doing it now. Not until this thing is over.”
He had so many questions he didn’t know which one to ask first. “Do you know if Troy was just arriv
ing at work at 9:00?”
“I think so. I mean, I didn’t see him drive in. And when he saw me he made some comment about being out back. But they’ve got a little fridge under the counter and I think I saw him put his lunch away. That’s usually the first thing I do when I get to work.”
“Okay, thank you. Now you said that you need to talk to Troy again but it would have to wait. What’s that about?”
“Well... I’m not sure I should say. I should give Troy a chance to explain.”
“I respect that but it’s hard to know if it will help us in any way unless we know what it is.”
“I don’t think it will but since you’re the police, I guess it’s okay. After I left Garage on Division, I ran to get a cup of coffee. Unfortunately, the lid came off while I was driving and I ended up spilling most of it. The receipt I’d gotten was ruined. My car is a company car. Without a receipt, I wasn’t going to get reimbursed for the expense. I was going to go back right away but needed to get to work. I stopped in Thursday morning and asked Davy if he could help me. It took him a little while because for some odd reason, it wasn’t with the other receipts. Anyway, he finally found the right file in the drawer and made me a copy. It was only after I got back out to my car that I realized that something was very wrong. My bill was for $89. But the receipt I was looking at was for $389.”
“Davy gave you the wrong receipt?”
“Oh no. Same exact receipt as I’d gotten the day before except somebody had added a three to the total. I don’t know what the heck is going on but I sure can’t turn in a receipt for $389 for an oil change and a transmission flush.”
“Do you have that receipt?” A.L. asked.
“Of course,” she said.
“I’m going to need to see it,” he said.
* * *
Twenty minutes later, he and Rena pulled up to Peitra Jonet’s house. She met them at the door with receipt in hand. Both he and Rena glanced at it. “We’re going to need to take this with us,” he said.
She shrugged. “I guess that’s okay. It’s not like I can turn it in anyway.”
