Vanished (16 page)

Mason stood in the center of his garage and waited for Detective Duff Morales to answer his phone.

Don’t think about it. Just say it.

Ava was in deep discussion with Wells. They’d immediately contacted Sanford to inform him of the missing bat and called the forensics team back to process the garage. Mason watched them carefully examining his cabinets.

Shit.
The garage was going to take forever. And he needed to see if anything else was missing. In his gut, he knew the only missing item would be the metal bat.

“Morales,” he answered his phone.

“It’s Callahan. You got a minute?”

“Yep. What’s up?”

Mason heard the instant cooling in Morales’s tone and closed his eyes.
I’m not the enemy.

“I know why my prints are on the bat that was used in Josie’s murder.”

“Why is that?” Morales’s voice perked up.

“Because it’s mine. The FBI and I discovered it missing from my garage twenty minutes ago. It’ll probably have my son’s prints on it, too. He handled it more than I ever did.”

“I’ve got the report on the bat right here,” Morales answered. “There’re no other prints except yours.”

“That’s impossible.” Mason was stunned. He remembered picking up the bat and putting it in the garage last spring. Jake had left all the bats, several mitts, and a number of balls in the backyard after he’d had some friends over. “It has to have more. Possibly even some of his friends’ prints.”

“Just yours.”

Someone wiped it down and placed my prints. Why?

Mason closed his eyes, mentally crossing his fingers that Ray would answer his phone. The two FBI agents were in his home with the forensics team. He’d escaped to the front yard, needing some air after reporting the missing bat.

Who? Who would do this?

“Mase? What’s up?” Ray finally answered just as Mason was about to give up.

Mason couldn’t speak. His mind was blank.

“Mason?” Loud background cheers came through the line.

“Ray,” Mason forced out. “I was about to hang up.”

“Sorry. We’re at my son’s soccer game. I didn’t hear my phone.”

“Shit, sorry. I’ll let you go.”

“No. It’s good. What’s going on?” Ray’s voice intensified, and the background noise faded a bit.

Mason paused.
What did he want to say? Help me, Ray. My life is going down the shitter?

“Are you at the Fairbankses’?” Ray asked. His voice grew sharper, pressing for information.

This was why he’d called Ray. He needed someone who knew him. Someone who knew the right questions to ask, because he was lousy when it came to expressing how he felt. Ray knew him better than any wife ever could.

“No. I’m at home. Someone was here. Looks like Henley’s kidnapper may have left a note under my dog’s dish.”

“What?”

“And someone was in my garage. One of Jake’s bats is missing. And it’s the bat that was used on Josie. The one with my fingerprints.” It all spilled out. He took a deep breath, his emotional load suddenly lighter.

“Holy fuck.” Ray paused. “That was your silver bat? Are you sure?”

Mason knew Ray was recalling the sight of Josie’s abused corpse. Just as he had a few thousand times.

“Mine is missing and my prints are on the one at the scene. But Jake’s prints aren’t on it. That’s what’s weird. He should at least have some partials on it. I just talked to Morales. Told him what I’d discovered.”

“Shit. What was the note? You said it was under the dog dish? That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah, it said he doesn’t leave ransom notes.”

Ray snorted.

“And I can’t find the dog. He didn’t eat his dinner last night.”

“You think he took the dog?” Ray was incredulous. “It’s a stray, right? Maybe it went home.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about it.” Mason had a gut-wrenching pain at the thought of the innocent animal being abused simply because it had been coming around his house.

“I doubt he took your dog. But the bat . . . that’s crazy. Does that mean . . .” Ray trailed off, and Mason could almost hear the gears grinding in his head. “He implies with the dog note that he took Henley? And before that, he took your bat and murdered Josie? There can’t be two different people who decided to pay your house a visit.”

“I know,” said Mason. “It’s linking Josie’s murder and me to Henley’s case.”

“That doesn’t make sense. There’s no common element between Josie and Henley.”

“Not yet.”

“What’s the FBI think?” Ray asked.

“They’re wondering what the connection is. Same as we are.” Mason swallowed hard. “What are they saying about me downtown, Ray?” He shouldn’t care. It shouldn’t matter what a bunch of cops were whispering behind his back.

But it did.

He’d spent nearly twenty-five years as a cop. He had the soul of a cop. He’d lost his wife and most of his relationship with his son because he’d put the job first. His integrity as a person and a detective was all he had left. If that was ripped away . . .

“Christ, I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. What’s going around?”

Ray was silent for five seconds. “Everyone is stunned, but no one is believing it. Sure, there’s evidence that you were there, but it doesn’t prove that you did anything to hurt Josie. The guys are behind you, Mason.”

Mason exhaled, feeling mildly dizzy from holding his breath.

“I’m doing what I can, Mason. I’m pushing for every scrap of evidence to be reexamined. I’ve talked to the techs, making certain things were handled correctly. So far, everything seems on the up and up, but I’m fighting for you.”

“Thanks. That really means something.” It did.

“You talk to the union?” Ray asked.

“Someone has called twice and left a message for me to call them back.”

“Call them back!”

“I don’t have time. I don’t want to deal with that right now. I’m trying to stay focused on Henley,” Mason argued. He didn’t want to talk to the union rep. He had no patience for bureaucracy.

“They’ll keep an eye on the investigation. You need to let them know you were placed on administrative leave.”

“I think they know,” Mason said dryly. The first voice mail from a union rep had come an hour after Schefte had taken his gun. He figured Schefte had informed them.

“This is your job, Mason.”

It’s my life. Without my job, I’ve got nothing.
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“They’ll be knocking on your door if you don’t call them back.”

“I’ll talk with them then. You see the newspaper this morning?”

“Yes, Jill showed it to me. At least your name isn’t in it.”

“But for how long? That article just screams for some deeper questions,” Mason said.

“No one downtown will give a reporter your name.”

Mason snorted. “Sure they will. I can think of at least three guys who’d love to see me miserable.”

“You need to learn to be nicer to people. No more burning your bridges when someone pisses you off.”

“I’m not very good at turning the other cheek,” Mason admitted.

“No shit. Don’t worry about it. If it happens, it happens. You’ll be cleared eventually.”

“After they call for my head to be mounted on a pole.” Mason rubbed his forehead. Maybe it was time to retire. A quiet little cabin at the coast or up on Mt. Hood. Somewhere there weren’t any people.

He’d be bored out of his brain in a month.

“What’s Schefte’s position?” Mason asked, not certain that he wanted to hear the answer.

“He’s walking the line. Doing everything by the book.”

“I know that. But what’s he saying?”

“Nothing.”

“Shit.”

“I know. I’d expect him to at least tell people not to jump to conclusions. He’s been strangely silent on the whole thing. I tried to ask him about it, and he told me it wasn’t any of my business and to get back to work.” Ray was angry. “If my partner isn’t my business, then what is?”

“Thanks, man.” Mason didn’t know what to think of Schefte’s reaction. Was there someone higher up that was pressuring him? Telling him to keep his mouth shut? “What about IA?” Internal Affairs hadn’t approached him yet, but it was inevitable.

“If they’re poking around, I haven’t heard or seen anything yet.”

“They will.”

“All they’ll find is that you didn’t kill anyone. We all know it, Mason.”

“Yeah, but why do I have to prove that I didn’t do it? That’s not how it’s supposed to work.” He exhaled. “This is sucking the life out of me. I don’t know what I’ll do if . . .”

“I know.”

Ray did know. Ray understood that Mason’s life was simple. Work and . . . not much else. And he knew that Mason’s integrity meant everything to him. If it was ripped away by the loss of his job, he’d be decimated.

“You need to stay strong for the Fairbankses,” Ray said. “I can’t imagine the hell they’re going through right now.”

“It’s horrible. They walk around like zombies. The waiting is the worst. The not knowing what’s happened to her.” Ray was right. His problems didn’t compare to losing a child. What would he do if it’d been Jake? And from the sound of the call from Sanford a few minutes ago, Jake may have just missed abduction himself. He told Ray Jake’s story of his encounter back at college.

“They think it was the same guy?” Ray asked. “On the other side of the country?”

“They have to consider it. The descriptions are really similar.”

“But why Jake? Henley’s age indicates that she might have been taken by a pedophile with a taste for young girls. Usually full-grown males aren’t compatible with their taste.”

“Damn it, Ray.” Mason gagged a little. He’d tried to avoid the thought of a pedophile involved in Henley’s case. Yes, there was a good chance she’d been snatched by someone like that, and the FBI was still looking hard at known pedophiles in the area.

“Sorry. It’s true, though. I don’t see how someone asking Jake a question relates to the abduction of an eleven-year-old girl on the opposite coast.”

“I know how unlikely it sounds. But you have to take into account that someone stole his suitcase, too. Something seems to be circling around him. The FBI isn’t going to ignore it,” said Mason. “Someone knows where Jake goes to school and when he was flying home. And this same person may have stolen a minivan and then kidnapped Henley? Someone knows a lot about my family.”

“The FBI profilers are going to go nuts with this information,” Ray added.

Mason needed Special Agent Euzent to update the profile on their kidnapper. What did it say about their kidnapper if he wanted a college-aged boy
and
a young girl? What kind of person spent time researching the minutia of someone’s daily movements?

“This is going to create a bunch of different angles on their opinion of Henley’s kidnapper,” said Ray. “But what are you going to do? Are you going to fight for your job, or are you going to sit back and let Josie’s investigation run its course?”

“There’s not a hell of a lot I can do. I maintain my innocence. I give them any evidence they want. And I try not to slit my wrists. I don’t know what you mean by fighting back. No, I’m not going to roll over and let them screw me like a drunken whore, but what steps can I take?”

“Get a lawyer,” Ray said firmly.

“I don’t like lawyers.”

“I don’t, either. But you need one. If your name turns up in the paper, you need someone to protect your interests.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Mason started to steam. “People say that all the time. I don’t have interests. I have a life. And it can’t be taken away from me. If they charge me with a crime, I’ll get a lawyer. But you and I know it won’t come to that. It can’t, because I never committed the crime.”

“We’ve never arrested innocent people?” Ray asked.

“I haven’t. Not on purpose, anyway.”

Ray sighed. “I think you’re being completely naive about the situation. All I ask is that you look out for yourself, okay?”

“I always do. But frankly, right now, I’m more interested in finding Henley Fairbanks.”

“Everybody wants to find Henley. I’ve had three people ask me about the case during the game I’m watching right now. She’s turned into everyone’s child. Everybody gives a damn. This may be sad, but it seems to matter more because Christmas is this week.”

Mason had forgotten Christmas was in a few days. How could that happen when he’d walked by Robin’s tree each morning? Had his mind blanked it out? He looked at his neighbor’s home across the street. Lights, deer, and a sleigh. They always went all out with decor for the holidays. He hadn’t hung lights since Jake was tiny.

“I gotta get ready for the vigil tonight,” Mason said. “I’m going to say a few words for the family. You know, the ‘stay strong and please bring her back’ type of thing.”

“All I want for Christmas,” said Ray quietly.

“Yep. That’s all everyone wants this year.”

17

60 HOURS MISSING

Ava pulled her coat collar up over her nose and mouth to guard against the cold. Next to her, Jake did the same thing and seemed to shrink inside of his bulky coat. For the past thirty minutes, they’d watched the crowd grow in the green space at the riverfront, while organizers handed out candles with small plastic trays to catch the wax drips. Both she and Jake had taken a candle, but Mason had shaken his head. He seemed tense.

Why wouldn’t he be? He was about to speak to the press and had discovered a murder weapon had come from his garage. He’d held his cool as he’d told her and Wells the significance of the missing bat. He’d seen the bat at the crime scene but hadn’t thought much of it. Thousands of people owned the same type of bat.

“Detached” was a good way to describe him. At his home, he’d pulled out his cell and immediately informed the detective in charge. Listening, Ava had realized he could have been talking about any other case, he seemed so monotone. But this was his life, and he was being sucked deeper and deeper into the murdered prostitute’s case.

Ava knew how simple it was to place fingerprints. With the right sticky substance and a clear print to lift, they were easily transferable. And it appeared that someone had done it with Mason’s. She hoped the detectives would find something to pull Mason out from under the microscope. He didn’t deserve to be falsely accused in the woman’s death. Although no one had formally accused him yet. They’d placed him on administrative leave pending further investigation. It didn’t mean they thought he’d done it; they were simply following procedure.

Mason knew that and expected no less of his employer. That didn’t mean he had to enjoy the process.

ASAC Ben Duncan gestured for Mason to join him and three other agents closer to the platform, which held a single microphone on a stand for the press conference. Jake slapped his dad on his back, and Ava realized she’d never seen a physical sign of affection between them. Mason glanced back at his son and nodded, and Ava figured that the slap and nod had a deep meaning between the two of them. She gave Jake a smile and looked past him to Robin, Lucas, and Lilian. Lilian had brought a close girlfriend for support, and the two women stood with their arms linked, speaking in hushed voices.

The vigil organizers had put up a small table with coffee and a second table was draped with a huge banner.
C
OME HOME
, H
ENLEY
, it read in large letters. Attendees took turns signing the banner with short messages of hope. Moms from Henley’s school hugged parents and other kids. Tears shone on most of the faces. A small stream of people stopped to talk to the three parents, and Ava and two other agents carefully watched the strangers. They’d given the three parents a hand signal to flash if they were approached by someone they didn’t recognize. So far, they’d known every adult who’d stopped by and wished for Henley’s safe return.

It was a tight community.

The contact with the public was good for Robin. Her chin was up, and she engaged each adult who stopped to speak to her or offer a hug. She seemed to absorb strength from the well-wishers. Lilian was the opposite. She shrunk back and relied on her friend to greet the attendees. She looked like she wanted to vanish. Ava noticed Lilian would shift her position to keep Lucas in her sight, and she frequently glanced his way. Ava’s suspicions about the woman’s feelings for her ex-husband grew stronger.

Don’t bother, Lilian. Anyone can see his commitment to Robin.

Maybe Lilian was simply missing what they’d once had. Robin and Lucas were lovely together. They frequently touched and exchanged glances. Ava would kill for a relationship like that.

ASAC Ben Duncan stepped up to the microphone. The platform stood across the grassy clearing from the banner and coffee. The local press had set up their cameras to get a good view of the platform and the crowd. CNN and Fox News had joined the local stations. Ava sighed at all the cameras, but any publicity about Henley could be helpful. It was national press that’d speedily spread the word when a sixteen-year-old was kidnapped in California, and it’d led to her being recognized in Idaho by strangers. The FBI’s hostage-rescue team had tracked down the kidnapper and rescued the girl.

Ava prayed for the same successful ending for Henley.

“Excuse me, folks,” came Duncan’s voice over the microphone. The crowd immediately quieted and turned his way, their candles glimmering in the dim light. “We’re going to take a few minutes to update you on Henley’s case. Then we’ll take a
few
questions.” He emphasized the word “few,” eyeballing the reporters. Duncan was a natural in front of the press. He commanded their respect, and they gave it to him.

“Last night we arrested someone unrelated to Henley’s disappearance. This person staged a fake ransom note for his own gains, and it took vital resources away from the search for Henley.” Duncan glared at the crowd. “Henley doesn’t have time for us to be distracted by fools. We want solid leads, not someone’s made-up story. We’ve regrouped and moved on, following up on every lead that’s come into our command center. I ask you to be vigilant and keep an eye out for this little girl. We just need the right tip from an alert member of the community to find her.

“This is Mason Callahan, the spokesman for the Fairbanks family.” Duncan stepped back and gestured Mason forward. Mason removed his hat and made eye contact with several people in the audience. Ava tensed, aching for him to do well for the family.

“I’m here because tragedy has struck some good people,” Mason began. His voice was clear and low, his folksy way of speaking instantly capturing the audience. “An evil has touched our community and ripped holes in the hearts of everyone here. Henley Fairbanks is everyone’s child. Your sons and daughters may be safe at your side, but until we bring Henley home, no one will be at peace. Her special light is missing.”

He paused and looked down at his boots. Ava heard sniffling around her and realized she also had tears. Mason looked up and met her gaze. His face blurred behind her tears.

“Lilian, Lucas, and Robin appreciate your presence and your prayers for their daughter’s safe return. No parent deserves to go through what they’ve experienced over the last few days. And no child should ever be yanked from the safety of their parents’ arms.” Anger infused his tone, and the crowd hung on every word.

He’s a natural.

“I’ll repeat what Ben Duncan said. Be vigilant. Study the faces of the children you come in contact with. Henley’s face should be burned in your memory. One of you will see something that will lead the authorities to her. And we can’t ask for a better force to be searching for Henley. The rapid response of the Clackamas County Sheriff’s Office, the City of Lake Oswego Police Department, and the FBI has been unparalleled. These heroes were on the scene immediately and have been working night and day to find Henley. When a cop hears a child is missing, it doesn’t matter who he works for—he responds with 110 percent. And that is what the Fairbanks family has experienced. We’ll be forever grateful.”

Mason took one last, sweeping look at the crowd and stepped back, putting his hat back on. Duncan gestured at Sanford, who stepped up to the microphone. Mason stepped off the platform and maneuvered his way through the crowd toward Ava and the family.

“I’m Special Agent Sanford with the FBI, and I’ll be answering a few questions,” Sanford stated in a clear voice. The emotional words were over, and Sanford changed the tone of the crowd back to the business at hand. Ava tuned him out as Mason approached.

He gave her a questioning look, and she nodded at him, barely able to form words. “You did good,” she whispered.

“Nice job, Dad,” said Jake. He gave his dad a long hug, and Ava’s eyes watered at the love on Mason’s face. He clung to his son. “You had the whole crowd in tears.”

“Thank you, Mason,” said Robin. She stepped forward and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Mason watched her move back to her husband, who threw an arm around her and Jake in a family hug. Ava felt a pang in her stomach at the hungry look in Mason’s eye as he gazed at the threesome.

He misses having a family.

At first she’d thought he was watching his ex-wife, but he was focused on Jake and Lucas and their closeness. He looked away at the few boats that dotted the Willamette River behind them. Without thinking, Ava touched his arm. He looked her way with eyes that belonged to a battered animal. He was ripped up inside. His job, his kid, Henley. What else was life going to pound him with?

Ava tried to smile but faltered. For a brief second, he’d hung it all out, showing a deeply suffering side of himself that no one ever saw. He patted her hand on his arm, and his emotions vanished. He was back in cop mode. Protective mode.

For a moment, she’d seen his true self.

Her heart cracked at his pain.

Under that by-the-book, tough cowboy was a gentleman with a big heart.

Sanford’s voice penetrated her focus, and Ava glanced back at him. The agent was droning on, responding to the press questions with answers that said a lot of nothing new. They’d agreed not to share Jake’s encounter with the man at his college’s campus. Sanford held up a big photo of the type of minivan they were still searching for, along with its license-plate number.

It was still their best lead.

Ava’s personal phone buzzed.
Legacy Emanuel Hospital
flashed on her screen. Curious, she stepped away from the family and answered.

“Is this Ava McLane?” came an unfamiliar woman’s voice.

“Yes, it is.”

“I’m calling from Emanuel Hospital’s ER. Your sister Jayne McLane is here and has been involved in a car accident. She requested you be contacted and informed of her condition.”

“What? Is she okay? What happened?” Ava’s heart stopped.

“She’s been in a car accident, ma’am,” the woman repeated. “She’s conscious and on her way to Radiology. She’s banged up. Some possible broken bones and a concussion. We’ll know more soon.”

“How did it happen? Who was driving?” If Jayne had been riding with some drunk boyfriend, Ava would strangle her.

“I don’t know, ma’am. Let me see if the officer who came in with her is still here.”

The police accompanied her?

Ava waited and paced in a small circle. Mason looked at her questioningly, but Ava forced a smile and shook her head at him. A male voice spoke. “This is Officer Suarez. Is this Jayne McLane’s sister, Ava McLane?”

“Yes. What happened?”

“Your sister plowed through a red light on Tenth Avenue downtown and hit another car. She’s lucky the other people weren’t injured.”

“She was driving?” Ava squeaked.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Was anyone else in her car?”

“There was a male passenger. He seems fine. He’s getting checked out, too.”

Ava sighed. This was why she didn’t loan Jayne her car. Hopefully, the man had good insurance.

“I’m sorry, but your sister will be arrested for driving with a suspended license once the hospital releases her.”

“Are you kidding me? Her license was suspended? I had no idea.” Could Jayne mess things up any worse?

“Yes, for a previous DUI.”

Ava closed her eyes. Alcohol. Of course. “Was she drunk this time, too?”

“We’ve requested a blood alcohol test. She was in no condition to do a Breathalyzer at the scene.”

“Do you think she was drunk?” Ava pushed.

Suarez paused. “I could smell alcohol on her breath, which was why I ordered the test. We won’t know until we get the lab results back.”

Definitely drunk. Jayne, what have you gotten into?
Ava wanted to scream at her sister. And shake her. Shake some sense into her.

“The vehicle will be at the police lot. You can call to find out when it will be released,” Suarez stated.

Ava blinked. A sense of dread creeping up her spine. “I don’t want to deal with the car. Doesn’t the car belong to the passenger?”

“Uh . . . no. The car’s registration says Ava McLane. That’s you, right? Do you own a black Honda Accord?”

Yes, she did.

At the vigil, Mason had watched Ava get a phone call and nearly blow her stack at the caller. She’d been polite, but Mason was glad the person on the other end couldn’t see her body language and facial expressions. It’d been enough to make him blink and listen closely. A minute later, she asked him to drive her to the hospital, because she was concerned she’d cause an accident.

Mason followed her as she stopped to check in with ASAC Ben Duncan. “My sister’s been in a car wreck and is in the hospital. I need to be there,” she told him with no preface.

Duncan nodded. “I’ll have extra men at the Fairbankses’ all night in case the press conference stirred some things up. Take as long as you need, and check in with me later.”

Once they were in Mason’s car, Ava explained that her twin had stolen her car and wrecked it.

“How’d she get the car?” Mason asked as he maneuvered his vehicle through the quiet downtown Portland streets.

“I have a hunch.” Ava dug through her purse. “My Honda keys are missing. Damn her! She spilled my purse when I dropped her off earlier today, and she must have grabbed them then.”