Profile of Fear: Book Four of the Profile Series (Volume 4) (19 page)

“Yeah, she was happy. In fact, she said this was the best school year she’d ever had. She really likes her boyfriend. She talks about him non-stop.” Teri took a big slurp of her coffee and quickly licked the cream foam from her upper lip.

“So she and her boyfriend were getting along?”

“Sure. When she was working, he’d come in and spend time with her during her breaks. He seemed real nice, and not hard to look at, either.”

Teri flicked a glance at her watch and rose from her chair. “Listen, I’m sorry that Lea is missing. I wish I could think of something that could help you find her. But I can’t. I have to get back to work.”

Gabe handed her his business card. “Thanks for talking to me. Call me if you think of something.”

A slender kid with a buzz cut and an expression too serious for his years immediately moved into Teri’s chair and sat down across from him, placing his coffee cup on the table. “I overheard you talking to Teri. I hope you don’t mind. I’m Rick Foster, Lea’s boyfriend.”

Gabe considered him, remembering his name from Camilla and Teri, and outstretched his hand. “I’m Gabe…”

Rick ignored the gesture and kept his hands tucked in his pockets. “I know who you are.” He interrupted. “You’re the private investigator that Lea’s mom hired. Teri called me last night and told me you were trying to find Lea. I want to help.”

“When was the last time you saw Lea?”

“We had a date the Friday night before she disappeared. Went out for dinner at O’Charley’s restaurant, then caught
Star Wars
at the mall movie theater.”

“And after that?”

“I followed her home. She hopped into my car outside her house and we made out until her mom turned on the porch light. That’s her signal for curfew.”

“Are you and Lea close?”

Rick nodded and looked down at his coffee. “I love her enough to want to marry her someday. I’m nineteen and she’s only seventeen, so we have to wait. Lea wants to go to college after high school, and I’m taking classes at Ivy Tech.”

“Let’s talk about Saturday, the day she disappeared. Did you see her that day?”

“No. Couldn’t call her either. I bus tables at the Wrangler’s Steak House outside of town. My boss made me work a double shift. Asshole. I may never see Lea again because I worked that shift. I wish I had called in sick or something.”

Rick Foster drew in his shoulders, tucking his elbows into his sides—obviously filled with self-blame. If he was ever on Gabe’s suspect list, he was off it now. That was the thing about a missing person or homicide victim, their loved ones inevitably blamed themselves for what happened, often for a lifetime. He didn’t wish that on anyone.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. It probably wouldn’t have made a difference, Rick. Is there anything that Lea may have shared with you that might be important?”

“I’ve racked my brain, but I’m coming up with nothing. I know one thing. There is no way she would have run away. No way.”

Chapter Forty

Gabe waited until the lunch crowd died down, and then showed Lea’s photo to the food court workers. Later Gabe visited store owners with Lea’s photo. Many had seen her working at the kiosk as well as eating in the food court, but didn’t have any pertinent information about her activities on the Saturday she disappeared.

Gabe got back on the escalator to the lower level to visit the security office. After he introduced himself as a private investigator, he was referred to Rob Nelson, head of mall safety and security. A talkative man, Nelson had a husky build with salt-and-pepper hair worn in a military cut. He waved his arm as he referred to the shopping mall as if he were a land baron overseeing his acreage.

Although he was on a tight schedule, Gabe listened patiently to Nelson as he talked about his department. Eventually, he got him to talk about systems put in place to protect customers and retailers, so he could transition into some questions about Lea Essick. “Sycamore Mall was built in the seventies, so until three years ago, the security system was pretty antiquated. And that’s saying it politely.”

“I’d heard the mall put in more sophisticated technology.”

With a derisive snort, Nelson scowled and continued. “Yeah, it’s a great system, but three guards lost their jobs over it. The system turned out to cost more money than the mall owners bargained for. Losing those guards means we’re down to one guard to patrol the upper and lower levels, and one to oversee the security monitors. She can’t leave the monitors, so if something happens, how quick help arrives depends on where the guard is on his rounds.”

“What about the parking lots?”

“We don’t have the manpower to patrol the parking lots. We’re dependent on the external bullet cameras.”

“Not good.” Gabe shook his head as he thought about what safety implications this had for unknowing customers entering and leaving the lots. It was no secret that people are often victims of crime in mall parking lots. Great setup for car thieves, purse snatchers, carjackers, and sexual predators. At least with surveillance cameras, mall security personnel can review videos and help law enforcement track down the perpetrators. Somehow, that didn’t ease his mind. With no guards actually driving around the parking lots, help might not come soon enough for a crime victim who was being abducted, raped, or worse. It was certainly not a model for crime prevention at its best. He made a mental note to brief Brody and Cam about the situation, in the hope that deputies could do more patrols through the mall parking lots.

Nelson led Gabe into a room that had three large monitors mounted on the wall. Beneath them sat a female security guard tapping on a computer keyboard. She briefly acknowledged him by nodding her head, and then returned her attention to the monitors. “Misty’s job is to monitor the property by watching video feeds from security cameras located at various sites both inside and outside the mall. Our closed-circuit television security system has software and cameras to track bags left behind, count shoppers entering and exiting through doors, and it detects when a person enters a restricted area.”

He pointed to the first monitor. “On this monitor we get feeds from thirty-six cameras strategically mounted throughout the inside of the mall, including walkways, escalators, and the food court. Each of our one-hundred specialty and anchor stores have their own security cameras, which tie into to our system. That footage appears on the second monitor. Parking areas are on the third.”

Gabe gazed at the first monitor. “Would you please pull up the cell phone kiosk on the second floor?”

“Sure.” With a click of her mouse, Misty pulled up the cell phone kiosk, which was now surrounded by customers.

“Is that why you’re here? Something going on at that kiosk?”

“I’m looking for a young woman who worked at the kiosk. Lea Essick. She disappeared two weeks ago.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard. The cops were here. Didn’t seem too worried though. They think she ran away.”

“From what I’ve heard from the people who know her, that doesn’t seem likely.”

Nelson glanced at him, seemingly sizing him up before he invited Gabe into his office and closed the door. “I found that girl’s car parked outside Macy’s at the end of the mall closest to the kiosk where she works. The county police have already had the car towed after their crime scene techs worked it over.”

“Do you know whether any prints were found on her car?”

Stroking his chin, he regarded Gabe warily, then leaned across his desk, talking in a low, bitter voice. “As usual, the cops told me to get lost. Asshats. Even though I used to be a cop for the city, those guys have no respect for mall security. None. Like I said, I’d already found the girl’s 2004 silver Honda CRV, so I hung around outside Macy’s and watched the CSI team dust for prints. They got nothing. Only prints they found were the girl’s.”

“Good to know. Did they find anything else?”

“Nah. The girl didn’t make it to the car that night.” Abruptly Nelson stopped talking; his face reddened and his mouth froze in a grim line. It was as if the words had escaped his mouth before he’d had a chance to cage them inside.

“How do you know?”

The security officer’s face darkened another shade of crimson and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Wordlessly, he stared at the surface of his desk.

It was then that Gabe realized exactly what he’d done. Fueled by his resentment toward the investigators, Nelson had withheld information about Lea Essick. Considering his jumpiness, it was likely an important piece of the puzzle needed to find the teen. Gabe felt his temper rise, but worked to keep it in check. How could someone who had what could be critical information needed to find a missing girl suppress it over a perceived slight by law enforcement?

The mall cop was damned lucky that it was he who sat across from him instead of Brody or Cam, who would have slapped him with a well-deserved obstruction charge and a personal tour of a county jail cell.

Swallowing his anger, he spoke calmly, as if he hadn’t heard Nelson’s admission.

“Any chance you’ve got a surveillance recording of the Saturday when Lea Essick was last seen?”

Sullenly Nelson rifled through his top drawer a moment before pulling out a USB drive and handing it to Gabe. “Here. It’s a copy. Thought the cops would ask for this, but they didn’t, so I didn’t offer.”

“I’d also like any footage you have focused on the kiosk, as well as the food court for the last thirty days.”

Rob left the room. Gabe could hear him talking to Misty. Soon he returned to the office with another USB drive.

Slipping it into his pocket, Gabe stood abruptly to end the conversation. Pausing at the door, he shot a glare back to Nelson. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to call those investigators and tell them what you found on the surveillance recording. Spin it however you want, but give them the information, because in fifteen minutes
I
will.”

Nelson sank into his chair. “Oh, shit.”

Gabe tapped the face of his watch. “Fifteen. And counting.”

Chapter Forty-one

Gabe entered the Vineyard Wine Bar and waded through the after-work crowd until his found his brother, Cameron, at a table near the front window. They exchanged hellos and Gabe sat down.

Cameron smiled. “I saw that the builder has poured the foundation for your new house.”

“Kaitlyn and I walked down there last night. We’re getting excited.”

“Will there be wedding bells soon?”

“Not sure. Kaitlyn wants to take her time. But after watching her with Becca, I think her internal baby alarm is going off. We may get married before you know it. At least I hope so.”

“Really appreciate the time she’s spending with Becca.”

“She enjoys it. Cam, thanks for meeting with me.”

“No problem. But is there a reason why you couldn’t talk to me at home?”

“Aside from taking time you’d rather spend with Becca, I think this particular conversation is better left private.”

Cameron nodded and held up a finger to get the waitress’s attention. He ordered two Heinekens, and turned his attention back to his brother. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve got two things I want to discuss with you. Let’s start with the research you asked for about online sex trafficking. I found a lot of information, most of which makes me sick to my stomach.”

“I hear you,” Cameron agreed.

“What I found are a lot of places for sex advertising on the Internet, like Craigslist, Backpage, and a variety of underground chat rooms. The difficulty is distinguishing between the sex traffickers and the voluntary sex workers.”

“According to federal law, all minors involved with commercial sex acts are treated as victims of trafficking.”

“I know that. It’s why I turned my focus to ads for underage girls. I started out by looking for photographs, but it seems the traffickers are on to those searches by law enforcement and they rarely post images on their ads. They exchange photos with the buyer after arranging a meeting.”

“Tricky bastards.”

“Starting with Craigslist, I went to the “Casual Encounters” and “Women for Men” sections. I noticed there were certain common phrases, key words, and codes that can help narrow the search for underage sex workers.”

“What are some of them?”

“Sometimes they are brazen enough to use actual ages like: Age 17/18/19, which indicates the age without specifically advertising the girls as underage. Other key words they use are: young, new in town/back in town, dirty old man, and daddy/daughter incest. Disgusting, right? And ads like this skyrocket during big sporting events like the Super Bowl.”

“So how can we use these ads to find our missing girls we think Juan Ortiz has abducted?”

“It won’t be easy, Cam. You’d need someone constantly combing the ads looking for underage workers, and then you’d have to cross-reference by location. The next step would be to investigate the person who posted the ad. Sites like Craigslist require a court order, search warrant, or subpoena before they release information. But I’ve heard they are very cooperative once they receive the warrant. They can give the investigator the Internet protocol (IP) address of the poster, which will help identify which computer the posted ad came from, and thus identify your perp.”

“Crap. I don’t have that kind of manpower and time.”

“I think you should consider setting up a sting of your own. Create an ad to use on the sites I mentioned. Lure the traffickers to provide underage girls to a hotel room you’ve secured, and see what shakes out.”

“That might be a good idea. I’ll discuss it with Robynn. Good job, Gabe. Now what else did you want to discuss with me?”

Gabe opened his briefcase, withdrew a folder, and opened it on the table. On the top was a photograph that he handed to Cameron.

“This is Lea Essick. She’s seventeen and a Shawnee High School senior. She’s been missing a little over two weeks. Her mother hired me to find her.

“Wait a minute. Isn’t my team already working this case?”

“Cam, Mrs. Essick doesn’t feel like they are taking her daughter’s disappearance seriously because she’s run away in the past.”