Vanished (4 page)

“What?” Agent McLane spun around to her boss. “Me? What about Christine?”

“Her maternity leave kicked in last week. Her doctor put her on bed rest for the final two months. You hadn’t heard?”

“No. I hadn’t,” McLane said slowly. She turned back to the mothers and Lucas, an apologetic look on her face. “Christine is our victim specialist. She’s usually the one who stays with families during times like this. Her role would be to offer support and help you with whatever you need.”

“I think you’ll mesh nicely,” replied the ASAC.

Mason bit his cheek. The FBI agent hadn’t seen that one coming. McLane blinked rapidly, trying to process the apparent curveball the case agent had thrown at her. Would that change her role in this case? Mason wondered how McLane felt about being thrust deep into the family dynamics.

Judging by the look on Robin’s face, she was pleased, and Lilian nodded emphatically.

“You’re very welcome to stay here,” Robin said. “I’m glad they picked you instead of the first agent who spoke with us.”

Lilian snorted.

Mason saw Agent Wells’s lips twitch as he continued to write on his notepad, and Agent McLane abruptly wiped her face clear of emotion. Mason wondered what he’d missed with the first agent; the man must have been a prince.

4

6 HOURS MISSING

Ava gaped as she drove past the condo building Lilian indicated and wished she owned a unit. Lilian lived in a fresh new building with Roman-looking architecture. It had a quaint coffee shop and art gallery on the bottom level. The city had decorated for the holidays; wreaths and red bunting hung from the antique-looking street lamps, and tasteful Christmas trees spotted the storefronts. Ava wondered how much Lake Oswego’s décor budget was, since they hadn’t hung the tacky metal sparkly garland like some cities. It looked like they’d hired a professional designer to get the residents in the holiday mood.

Ava pulled around to the back of the building and got out. Glancing to the south, she realized the upper levels of the building probably had beautiful views of the lake and surrounding hills.

“Nice,” Ava muttered under her breath, thinking of her tiny house and its yard with never-ending maintenance.

“I love it,” Lilian replied, stopping on the sidewalk. “People always ask why I didn’t get a house for Henley, but we aren’t yard people. We love to walk the city and visit the shops. The salespeople all know her by name, and there’s a great park a few blocks away.”

Ava sniffed the air. “Does it always smell like coffee here?”

“Yes! And that scent never gets old.”

Ava followed her through a security gate, approving of the keypad and card swipe to enter the condo area. “No vagrants wandering around?”

“In Lake Oswego?”

The woman had a good point. The city in Oregon with the highest per capita income didn’t attract bums. If one did decide to visit, there was no doubt they were sent quickly on their way.

An elevator took them up three levels. They moved down a hallway, stopped, and Lilian started to unlock her door.

“Just knock,” suggested Ava. Duncan had sent several agents to the condo earlier, and at least one was expected to house-sit for a while.

Lilian stared blankly at her, then nodded and knocked. Ava saw the flicker of sadness that crossed her face, no doubt from having to knock on her own front door. Ava hoped the search inside had been done neatly. Her protective mama bear would emerge if the police had left a mess. She’d taken these two terrified mothers to heart and was determined to keep their days as pain free as possible.

Ava didn’t recognize the young male agent who opened the door. They exchanged identification. Special Agent Parek stood back and let the women in. It wasn’t unusual for Ava to not know someone from the Portland office. They had nearly a hundred agents, and agents frequently transferred between offices. She’d been in Portland for five years and liked it. She’d hated her previous posting in Los Angeles. She’d missed the changing seasons, and there was simply too much city. Too many people. And too many cars.

She followed Lilian through the luxury condo, spotting a fantastic view of the lake from the formal living room. So far the home didn’t look disturbed. Either the police had been exceedingly neat or someone had spent some time picking up. Lilian moved down a hall and stepped inside a bright bedroom. Ava squinted. Three of the walls were neon lime green, and one was hot pink. It was all girl. Lilian slowly turned in a circle, studying everything.

“I can tell they searched,” she whispered. “They did a nice job putting things back, but I can tell.”

Ava thought it was surprisingly neat for an eleven-year-old’s room. At that age, she and her sister rarely saw the floor of their shared bedroom; they had practically used the floor as a closet. Henley’s bed was made, and there wasn’t a shred of clothing to be seen. Several shelving units held fabric storage bins. They looked nice and neat from the outside, but Ava suspected they were loaded with a mishmash of toys, books, and Barbies.

A poster of an unfamiliar boy band held the place of honor over Henley’s headboard. A huge white desk with a hutch for knickknacks overflowed with stuffed animals with huge eyes. A dozen lip glosses and a lighted makeup mirror were pushed to one side of the desk.

“They took her computer.” Lilian ran her hand across the white wood. “I’m not surprised. It just seems to leave a glaring empty space on her desk.”

Ava stared at the blank spot. Did all eleven-year-olds have their own computers in their rooms? Didn’t all the parenting magazines caution against that?

“I had good parental control software on there,” Lilian said as if reading her mind. “It kept her from accessing certain websites. Even some websites that I had no problem with.”

“Did you ever look at her browsing history?”

“I did at first. But it was all simple stuff. Disney and Barbie and games. I haven’t checked in a while.” Her voice faded away.

Ava’s thoughts sped to Internet predators; she suspected Lilian’s did, too. “If there’s something on there, our guys will find it. Fast. It’ll be the first thing they look for,” she said.

Lilian shook her head, staring at the pile of lip gloss. “I should have checked more frequently. But I trusted her to come to me with questions. We talked about what was appropriate on the Internet, and I cautioned her about being contacted by people she didn’t know. I know she did some game sites with her friends, but she couldn’t really chat with other players. She could only pick from a set of phrases to use, like ‘This is fun’ or ‘Have a happy day.’”

“The FBI will be able to see every site she visited,” Ava said.

“I should have watched her better,” Lilian whispered. “I let her be on there by herself too much.”

Ava didn’t like the despair threatening Lilian’s gaze. The woman was falling into a whirlpool of self-doubt and blame. “Lilian. Look at me.” The woman turned, her brown eyes moist. Ava grabbed her hands and squeezed them. “Listen. You are not a bad mother. Not looking over your child’s shoulder every minute of every day does not make you a bad mother. This is not your fault.
Do not
beat yourself up when we don’t know what’s happened.” The woman nodded as Ava spoke, but she doubted her words penetrated Lilian’s self-blame.

How does a mother function when her baby is out of her reach?

“Let’s get your bags packed.” Ava assigned a task, hoping it would shift Lilian’s focus. She tugged on the mother’s hands, pulling her to the door. Lilian followed and didn’t look back into her daughter’s room. In the hallway she seemed to snap out of her mood and moved past Ava to her own bedroom.

“It’ll just take me a few minutes.” She shut the door to her room.

Ava halted in the hall. That was an unmistakable
don’t come in
.

This was her new role. As soon as Duncan had said she would be embedded with the family, Ava’s role had switched from being an investigator to being a hand-holder. It would have been nice if Duncan had approached her privately about embedding. It was a bit of a dickhead move to pop it on her in front of the mothers. But she would have agreed if he’d asked her beforehand. And Duncan knew her well enough to know that. Still, she’d hide his favorite coffee mug in retaliation for not warning her.

She let Lilian have a few minutes to herself and went to the kitchen. Special Agent Parek looked up as she entered. He sat at the kitchen table, two cell phones, a novel, and a notepad in front of him. Ava avoided looking at the Christmas tree in the living room. The stack of presents underneath made her heart hurt.

“She says they put things back neatly. She seems pretty pleased,” Ava told him. He nodded and gestured at a chair at the table. She pulled out the chair to join him. Parek seemed like a quiet type of guy. He was compact, not much taller than her, with kind, dark eyes. “Do you know how the canvass went in the building?”

“Out of a dozen units, only six had people inside. A team is coming back this evening to knock on doors again. The art gallery has a camera system that catches part of the sidewalk out front and another camera on the rear entrance. They had a backup of forty-eight hours of footage, so if Henley somehow made it here, we’ll see her.” Parek took a sip of a soda, and Ava realized she’d missed lunch. She never missed lunch. She swallowed hard, her mouth dry. She had to eat several times a day, or she suffered severe headaches.

She would eat and sleep this case until it was over. It was the type of case that she had to throw herself into 100 percent, or she’d feel she failed the parents. And failed herself.

She was prepared for the worst, but she would fight for the best outcome for Henley in every way she could. But she wouldn’t be out tramping the sidewalks or digging through paperwork on this case. Her hands had been tied on the investigative side. As the fill-in victim specialist, her job was to be there for the family. Not to interview the parents.

Of course she’d keep her ears open . . . and ask a question here and there.

“What do you think of the mother?” Parek asked in a low voice.

“I don’t know. I met her a few hours ago, and she’s traumatized over the loss of her daughter. It’s too early to form any accurate opinions.”

But what does my gut tell me?

She’d been watching Lilian’s every expression and movement. She’d been analyzing every word out of her mouth. Had she seen anything to make her feel Lilian was lying? Or holding something back?

Not yet.

Her departure in the hallway had been abrupt, but Ava had understood the need for some privacy. The woman wouldn’t have much of it until they found her daughter.

“Has anyone stopped by? Any neighbors or friends?”

Special Agent Parek shook his head. “It’s been quiet. With the security system the building has in place, I don’t expect any friends to drop in. As for the neighbors, I don’t know if this is a get-to-know-your-neighbor type of building or not. There’s no landline, so no calls, either.”

“I’m ready.” Lilian stepped into the kitchen. “I didn’t know how many days to pack for. Do you think I need more than a day or two of clothes?” Her red-rimmed eyes blinked rapidly, and Ava knew she’d cried as she hid in her bedroom.

There’s no answer to that question.

Ava forced a smile. “We can always come back for more.”

Lilian flinched, and Ava wished she could have said, “I’m sure that’s more than enough.”

But that wasn’t who she was. She was too damned practical. “Pack for the worst,” she wanted to say. She believed in keeping a positive attitude but didn’t let it affect the practical decisions that needed to be made.

Prepare for the worst.

You could never pack too much underwear or question too many neighbors. An agent did what needed to be done.

“That doesn’t mean we don’t expect to find her soon. It’s okay to plan ahead.” Her voice softened. “Our goal is to find her before you need anything you’ve packed.”

Lilian’s throat convulsed as she swallowed. She nodded. “Let’s go.”

In the car on the way back to the Fairbanks house, Ava asked her if it felt odd to stay in her ex-husband’s home.

“Not really. We’ve done some short vacations together. Like trips to the coast or the water park in Washington,” Lilian answered, her gaze on the scenery they were passing.

“You do all get along,” Ava stated. “That’s rare.”

“I guess. The kids all like each other. Even Jake enjoys being with the younger girls. He’s a good big brother. It makes it easier when the adults have all committed to doing what’s best for the kids.”

“What about Jake’s dad? Is he around much?” The detective was stuck in Ava’s brain. His level of professionalism and almost old-fashioned manners at the interview had impressed her. He looked to be in his late forties, with salt-and-pepper hair and dark-brown eyes. She’d immediately picked up that he was an investigator through and through. It took one to know one.

“Mason? He’s a good guy. Just always working. He’s married to the job. I don’t know how he and Robin lasted as long as they did. I don’t see much of him, but Robin says he stays in touch with Jake. She has nothing but kind words for him. I think she almost feels sorry for him. He never remarried and seems to have a pretty solitary life.”

Ava understood perfectly.

She felt Lilian’s gaze focus on her. “What about you? I don’t see a ring. Do you have kids?”

Ava paused. In any other situation, she’d deflect the questions. Her personal life was her own business. But she was facing the possibility of spending a lot of hours with Lilian and the Fairbanks. She needed to appear open to gain their trust. “Never married. No kids. I guess I’m a bit like Jake’s dad. Married to the job. But I like it that way.” She didn’t look at Lilian, whose curiosity filled the car. Did she believe her? Some people thought their life wasn’t complete unless they had a significant other.

Like Ava’s sister. She bounced from man to man, searching for her soul mate.

“Sounds peaceful. There’ve been times when—,” Lilian broke off, a sob catching in her throat. “Oh my gosh,” she whispered. “How did I ever think like that?” She buried her face in her hands and let the tears flow.

Ava knew she’d been about to say there’d been times when she wished she lived alone.

Every mother must have wished for solitary peace during the trying times of child raising. Especially when she was doing it on her own.

Now Lilian had gotten her wish, and she was in hell.