No One Saw

by Beverly Long

  “Going to the casino this morning?” he asked, for lack of something to say.

  Elaine smiled. “Interestingly enough, I’ve sort of lost my interest in gambling. Every time I think about going I think about dropping Emma off at the day care. Was I distracted because I was excited about the gambling? Was I more interested in that than the safety of my own grandchild? You know, Leah is taking medication just to get through the day and then again at night, to sleep. I’ve caused my daughter so much pain. When does it end?”

  Her spirit truly seemed broken. “I spoke to your boss at work, Elaine. He said that there’s been some mistakes in your work lately. Mistakes that might have been costly to the company.”

  “I’m aware of them. I don’t think Milo has to worry about that anymore.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “No reason,” she said.

  A.L. took a breath. “I think the reason you say that is that you know that it was Leah who modified some of the files on your computer.”

  “None of that matters now,” Elaine said.

  “How long have you known?” Rena asked.

  “For several weeks.”

  “That must have made you pretty angry?”

  She shrugged. “Angry. Sad. It’s taken me some years to realize that Leah has more pain from her childhood than I ever imagined. I regret that because it is largely my doing. Our sins really do catch up with us.”

  * * *

  “‘Our sins really do catch up with us,’” Rena repeated as they drove away from Elaine’s house. “Once this is over, Elaine and Leah have a lot to talk about.”

  A.L. pointed at the time on his dashboard clock. It was 7:14. “Five days,” he said. “Five long days.”

  “Missing people have been found months, sometimes years, after the event. You can’t give up hope until...well, until you find a body,” Rena said.

  “Tell that to the Antler family,” A.L. said. “Listen, we both better grab a few hours of sleep. I’m probably a danger on the road right now.”

  “Okay,” Rena said. Her cell buzzed. She read the screen. “We’re not going home,” she said. “The tail on Kara Wiese has something. They were in place for less than fifteen minutes when Kara left her house this morning.”

  “She went to work,” A.L. said. “She starts at 6:30.”

  “Yeah, she ultimately went to work. But first she drove to a park on the south side of town.”

  “To jog?” A.L. said.

  “To meet a man. They want us to see the video.”

  * * *

  A.L. and Rena went straight to the conference room where two FBI agents and Chief Faster were already seated. There was a laptop in front of Faster and they had a big screen pulled down at the far end of the room. “We’ve watched it once,” Faster said. “But don’t recognize the man.” He pushed a button on the keyboard and the screen lit up.

  It was definitely Kara Wiese. The tail had started filming when Kara stopped her car near the park entrance. There was only one other car in the lot. She didn’t walk toward it. However, she went to sit on a bench. But she wasn’t sitting quietly. She was looking around, as if waiting for someone.

  And four minutes later, a man walked into view. A.L. sat up a little straighter in his chair.

  He watched as the man sat next to her. Then as he put his arms around her and kissed her. Not a nice to see you again kiss but more of a I might consume you whole kind of thing.

  “What?” Rena asked, looking at him.

  He looked around the room. “Allow me the pleasure of introducing you to Steven Hanzel.”

  Twenty-Three

  They debated whether to pick up Kara Wiese for questioning first, or Steven Hanzel. In the end, A.L. convinced them to start with Hanzel. “He’s going to crack first.”

  What they expected him to “crack” about was yet to be determined. But the fact that Kara Wiese had lied about the relationship and that both she and Steven Hanzel were significant players in Emma’s disappearance was enough.

  They’d watched Steven and Kara talk for several minutes, kiss a few more times, and finally part, each taking off in separate vehicles. The tail on Kara had continued and ended when she arrived at the Lakeside Learning Center.

  “Hanzel was dressed for work,” he said. The man’s suit had been all neat and tidy. “I’m betting we find him there.” In his notes, he found the telephone number for Tamara Federer. He dialed. When she answered, he didn’t waste any time.

  “This is Detective McKittridge. I am calling because my partner and I are going to want to have a discussion with Steven Hanzel. Can you verify for me if he’s at work?”

  “Hold for just a moment, Detective.”

  She was back within thirty seconds. “He’s here. I’ll reserve the first floor conference room for your use. If you’re coming now, the front door won’t be open yet. However, we have a guard posted and I’ll give him your names and authorize entry. Once inside, any discretion you can use when you’re in the bank around other employees would be appreciated.”

  He got it. She didn’t want a scene. “Will do. Thanks.”

  A.L. ended the call and pushed back his chair. “You drive,” he said to Rena. “I’ve got one more call to make.”

  * * *

  When they arrived at the bank, they saw the security guard at the front door. They showed badges and he said that he’d been expecting them. He didn’t ask why they were there; he just opened the door and looked the other way.

  They walked through the lobby, past the empty teller windows, and back toward the area where the loan officers called home. A couple desks were empty but there were five people already working. Steven Hanzel was one of them. They approached from an angle that allowed A.L. to see that Hanzel was reading the sports page on his computer.

  “Good morning, Mr. Hanzel,” A.L. said. “Not sure if you remember me. I’m Detective McKittridge and this is my partner, Detective Morgan.”

  Steven minimized his screen. “Of course, what can I do for you, Detectives?”

  “We need a few minutes of your time. The first floor conference room has been reserved for us.”

  That seemed to get Hanzel’s attention. “Okay. Uh...let me just get a pen and paper.”

  Had probably been drilled into his head—never go to a meeting without pen and paper. They waited while he found a yellow legal pad and a nice-looking pen. They motioned for him to lead the way.

  When they got there, A.L. realized that somebody had already put a carafe of hot coffee and cups in the center of the table. Tamara Federer got things done. He liked that. He poured a cup for himself and Rena. Offered one to Steven but the man shook his head.

  “Steven, with your permission, I’d like to record this conversation.” A.L. set his cell phone between him and Hanzel. “Is that okay?”

  “I guess.”

  He switched on the record function. “This is Detective McKittridge and Detective Morgan speaking with Steven Hanzel. Today’s date is Monday, September 14, and we are speaking in the first floor conference room of the Baywood Bank. Mr. Hanzel has agreed to have this conversation recorded.” A.L. picked up his pen.

  “Steven,” A.L. said, “I want to talk to you about the personal relationship you have with Kara Wiese.”

  “Um...who said that we have a personal relationship?” Steven tapped his own pen against his paper.

  “We have you on video this morning at the park. Meeting Kara. It looked rather personal.”

  Hanzel scratched his head. “We’re good friends. Okay, more than friends. No law against that, right?”

  “She’s married,” A.L. said.

  “Well, that’s not going to last.”

  “How long has the relationship been going on?” Rena asked.

  “Five, six months,” Hanzel said.

  “You’r
e good friends with Troy Whitman, right?” A.L. asked.

  He looked surprised at the quick change in topic. “You know I am.”

  “You’re also his loan officer?”

  “I’m a loan officer who has helped a lot of people secure financing.”

  Not according to his supervisor. “But you took a special interest in helping Troy. He’s your friend and when he needed financing and his numbers didn’t quite hit the mark, you went ahead and made sure he got the financing. Because that’s what friends do. And then when his daughter suddenly went missing, you didn’t miss a beat. You got a fund-raising page set up so quickly. In fact, once we look at your search history on your computer, I’ll bet you researched how to set up a site even before Emma Whitman disappeared.”

  It was a wild-ass guess but A.L. was pretty confident he wasn’t far off when Hanzel seemed to sway in his seat.

  “I don’t understand your point, Detective,” Hanzel said. He pulled at the collar of his nice white shirt.

  “My point is, your job is on the line here. You know it. You’ve received multiple warnings about your job performance. If you were to have another big loan default, it might look bad for you.”

  A.L. took a drink of his coffee and set the cup down hard. “I think that you know that your friend Troy Whitman is close to defaulting on his loan. I think you and Kara Wiese figured out a way to have his daughter disappear and get an influx of cash for Troy.”

  “How would I know that his business is about to go under? Troy always tells me that everything is fine. That’s what he tells everybody.”

  “Because I just talked to Travis Whitman, Troy’s older brother. The two of you are friends. Maybe even better friends than you and Troy. He confirmed with me that you did know, that he told you that Troy was borrowing money from the Savayanah brothers.” A.L. pushed his coffee cup aside. “Steven, you are under arrest in connection with the disappearance of Emma Whitman.” A.L. then read him his rights. He didn’t want the guy to lawyer up but he didn’t want anything to derail a conviction, either.

  When Steven Hanzel didn’t immediately ask for representation, A.L. decided it was time to hit him hard. “Where is Emma Whitman?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t want to know,” he said. “I had nothing to do with taking Emma. Nothing. Kara took care of all of that. But it’s going to be fine. Emma is coming home today. This is all going to be over.”

  Kara had likely acted to help her lover save his job. Now said lover was throwing her under the bus.

  Rena reached for her phone. Texted a message to Chief Faster. By the time she and A.L. got back to their desks, Kara Wiese would be there, ready for questioning.

  “How do you know that?” A.L. demanded.

  “That’s what Kara and I were talking about this morning.”

  “Who has Emma?” A.L. yelled.

  “Kara’s sister,” Steven said.

  “She doesn’t have a sister,” Rena said.

  “She does,” Steven said. “Listen, I want a lawyer. I’m done talking to you.”

  * * *

  Kara Wiese had been read her rights and she’d immediately requested an attorney. One was coming. And A.L. was about to climb the walls. He’d had numerous cups of coffee, no food and no sleep. And they were so fucking close.

  Emma was alive. Or at least had been when Steven had talked to Kara Wiese this morning. And supposedly the plan was to return Emma. All that was good, but things like this could go south in a hurry when people got nervous. And with the arrests of both Steven Hanzel and Kara Wiese, there was no telling what the sister, whoever that was, might do. If they lost Emma now, it would break people.

  Kara’s attorney arrived. He didn’t recognize the woman. Salina St. John. It sounded like a made-up name. He quite frankly didn’t even care if she was a real attorney. He gave Ms. St. John five minutes with her client. Then he and Rena knocked on the door.

  “Time is of the essence here, Counselor,” he said.

  “I understand,” she said. “My client has had an opportunity to reflect on previous conversations that she may have had with you and recognizes that she might not have been absolutely forthcoming. Should she provide a more detailed and accurate statement, would there be consideration of that when charges are filed?”

  “If we are able to locate Emma and she’s safe, then I will tell whoever is interested that there was no further delay. That’s the best I can do right now.”

  Attorney and client exchanged a glance. Kara leaned forward. “There was never any intention for Emma to be hurt. She has not been hurt. She’s been cared for and comforted.”

  “Where is she?” A.L. asked, his voice hard. “I want an address.”

  “317 Brookline Drive. It’s a house that my sister rented a month ago. That’s who she’s with.”

  He sent the address to the task force members. Felt his chest ease up a little.

  “You don’t have a sister,” he said. “We checked.”

  “My parents were boyfriend and girlfriend in high school. My mom got pregnant her junior year in high school. She gave away the baby for adoption. My parents went their own ways but seven years later, reconciled and married. I was born two years later. I was never told that there had been another child. I don’t believe they ever tried to find her. My parents were killed in a car accident almost four years ago. Two years ago, my sister, who had always been told she was adopted, had DNA testing done. My first cousin had also had DNA testing done. Long story short, ultimately my sister and I got connected, the story got sorted out, and we had some further testing to verify the results. But it was really unnecessary because it was like looking in a mirror. She’s a couple inches taller and there are a few other minute differences, but we look almost like twins.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Catherine Wood. I let her in the back door of the day care before we opened on Wednesday. She was to hide in a stall in the hall bathroom.”

  She’d been careless and stood in front of the mirror. It was Catherine Wood that Shana Federer had seen and spoken to.

  “How did Catherine know when to go to the front door?” Rena asked.

  “I can see the street from a window in my classroom,” Kara said. “When I saw Elaine Broadstreet coming, I texted Catherine so that she could be by the front door.”

  “Not on your cell phone,” A.L. said. There had been no activity on her phone that Wednesday morning.

  “A few months ago, I got a second phone. It’s in my sister’s name. Everybody knows that cops check phone records.”

  She’d been ready for their questions about the phone calls between her and Steven Hanzel. She’d had time to prepare her perfectly reasonable answers to all their questions. There was little doubt that down the line they’d find a second phone for Steven Hanzel, too.

  “You knew about Corrine Antler. You were college roommates with her aunt.”

  “I was,” she said. “And I thought if Emma disappeared in a similar way, people might think that it was related.”

  “We found out about Dover from a totally unrelated source,” Rena said.

  “I know. But if you hadn’t, Steven or I would have made sure you knew about it. It was much better that we didn’t have to. We weren’t worried about Emma telling people that she’d gone with me. I had an alibi. She’s a child. People would think she was confused. Elaine Broadstreet signed Emma in but Catherine took the sheet with her. I had already placed a second one with Wednesday’s date underneath.”

  It seemed as if Kara had anticipated most everything. But there was something that still needed an explanation. “Scent-trained dogs picked up Emma in Alice Quest’s yard. Is she involved?”

  “No. Absolutely not. Catherine does not have much experience with children. Evidently Emma was happy enough to get in her car but quickly became restless. I had driven by Alice’
s house with Catherine. She remembered that there was playground equipment. She promised Emma that she could play if she would stop crying. It was a bad decision. I don’t know her well enough to know if it was a lapse or whether her judgment is always a bit off.”

  “Alice didn’t know about your sister?”

  “No, but oddly enough, I know Alice’s sister. I met Melissa Wayne at the time of my roommate’s wedding. She did our hair and makeup. Years later, when I applied at Lakeside Learning Center, I was amazed at the resemblance. And when my own sister appeared and there was such a strong resemblance, I was tempted to tell Alice but I never did.”

  “Your plan was dependent upon Alice not being in the office. How did you manage that?”

  “Olivia Blow eats yogurt every afternoon. I added some stuff to her yogurt to make her sick. Nothing that would hurt her but enough to keep her in the bathroom for a long time. If she was ill, then Alice would be in a classroom.”

  Kara Wiese was a piece of work. “What’s in this for Catherine?”

  “Twenty thousand dollars. That’s the amount of bonus that Steven will get if he reaches his ten-year anniversary with the bank in December and has a certain amount of loans in his portfolio.”

  He was pretty confident she had no idea how close Steven really was to losing his job. Steven wasn’t ever going to see that money. If A.L. had anything to do with it, he was going to be in jail.

  “You did all this for a man that you’re not married to,” Rena said.

  “I love him,” Kara said. “He was very concerned about losing his job. Had made some threats that scared me.”

  “What kinds of threats?” Rena asked.

  “Threats that he was going to harm himself. I couldn’t take that chance.”

  “Troy Whitman has said that he never would have used the money in the fund-raising account to pay off his debts.”