Page 24 of Claimed by Him

“You decide,” I said. “You know better than I do the order of importance of various projects, as well as who’s working on each team.”

“All right.”

The doors opened, and Jalen led me through a maze of cubicles and desks. A few of them had people already there, and they looked up as we passed. I saw curiosity on some of the faces, but all of them waved and smiled at Jalen. Instead of ignoring them to talk to me, he greeted each one by name. I wondered if he knew them because they were often here early, or if he knew all of his employees by name. The research I’d done indicated that the company wasn’t vast, but it did employ a few dozen people, and wealthy CEOs were rarely hands-on.

A few comfortable-looking chairs sat in front of a door at the far side of the room, and a man sat in one. He had dark hair with a few bits of gray here and there, and an average build. His head was bent, keeping me from seeing his facial features and expression, but his posture spoke volumes. Anxiety rolled off him in waves, and he twisted his folded hands this way and that. When we were only a few feet away, he raised his head.

I would never claim to be a mind reader, but I liked to think I’d developed a good instinct for people, and if I was off, it was because I tended to be too cynical. I rarely believed the best in a person, especially if it was someone I hadn’t known long enough to have established a pattern of behavior.

Despite Jalen’s praise of Theo’s character, I knew I had to be suspicious of him. Most violence in the world was committed by a person or persons who had a personal connection to the victim. The first suspect in a murder investigation was a spouse or significant other. The kidnapping of a child was usually the result of a custody dispute or was done by someone already in the child’s life. I didn’t like to think of it, but it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility for a parent to harm a child, then claim that they were missing.

Theo got to his feet, rubbing his palms against his thighs. He started to hold out a hand, but Jalen had already stepped between us, reaching for the doorknob.

“Theo, this is Rona Quick, the private investigator I hired.” Jalen picked up a laptop from his desk. “Rona, you can use my chair. I’ll be out in an empty cubicle if either of you need me.”

I thanked him and moved around to the massive chair behind the desk. As he passed Theo, he put his hand on the other man’s shoulder and squeezed.

“Answer everything she asks honestly and know that she’s just doing her job.”

Theo nodded, rubbing his hands on his pants again before folding them in his lap. As Jalen closed the door behind him, Theo flinched at the sound, shifting in his chair. His eyes darted all around the room, never resting in one place too long.

He could be nervous, feeling guilty about something, or the fidgeting could’ve been from lack of sleep and concern for his daughter. The only way to get a feel for which was true was to start talking to him and see what came out.

The starting point was simple. The follow-up questions were where things got tough. I had to know what to ask, what threads to pursue. “Tell me, in your own words, how things unfolded.”

With jerky, halting speech, he told me the same thing Jalen told me yesterday. A few of the details were different or new, but that made his story more credible. Anything that was too precise, too perfect, sounded memorized or coached. As a witness on the stand, a high level of unease might be due to the sheer terror of facing the defendant, or just the anxiety that came with testifying. Talking to me shouldn’t have the same effect, especially for an adult with nothing to hide.

“And that’s when Jalen, I mean, Mr. Larsen, came over to find out what was wrong.” He finished his story, then fished something out of his pocket. A folded square of paper. “I wrote down the names of all of her friends and anyone else I could think of who might know where she is.”

“Thank you.” I took the paper and set it aside. “That will be very useful.”

And not just to give me a place to start with Meka’s social circles. A parent’s knowledge about their child’s friends was rarely one hundred percent accurate. The people he didn’t know about would be even more important than the ones he did know.

“Just a reminder, Mr. Ludwick, that I am not a cop. I’m being paid to find your daughter and to bring her back safely. I don’t make arrests, and the chances of me having to testify in court are slim. Anything I find would most likely not be usable in a legal situation. I don’t have to get search warrants or read rights, but that also means that I am subject to the law myself. If I go into someone’s house, I can be arrested for trespassing. Any risks I take are my choice, and I have no legal obligation to do anything I could get in trouble for. Also, people can lie to me without any criminal charges.”

He nodded. “I just want her home safe.” His face shone with sincerity, and my suspicions of him dropped from fifty percent to twenty-five percent. Once I got a feel for how others viewed him, I’d re-evaluate.

“I need you to be honest about the answers you give me, even if you think it makes you or Meka look bad.” When he nodded again, I went to my first question. “Has Meka been in any trouble recently? School or otherwise.”

He didn’t answer right away, appearing to think for a minute, which didn’t necessarily mean he was lying or telling the truth. “I noticed she didn’t seem to be bringing home much work, but when I asked her, she said that she was getting it done in school. When I called the school on Friday, they told me that they’d been trying to get ahold of me for two weeks to set up a meeting to talk about her not turning in homework and poor grades.”

I made a note. “What about other kinds of trouble? Problems with the law? Outbursts at home?”

“No,” he said hoarsely. He cleared his throat and continued, “I’m sure that cop I talked to would’ve told me if she’d gotten arrested or something.”

As the interview progressed, I watched his body language as much as I listened to everything he said, from word choice to tone. He answered every question, clarifying when I asked for more, and never shirking from negatives. He painted a picture of a close father-daughter relationship bonded through mutual grief, then drifting apart as Meka became more withdrawn from him. He tried to balance understanding of sullen and rebellious behavior against being too permissive. Sometimes he succeeded, sometimes not.

By the time I finished with him, he looked even more exhausted than he already had. I couldn’t imagine what he was going through, especially if he was as innocent as I believed.

“What do I do now?” he asked as he stood.

“If you can, go home. Try to sleep. Be there if she comes back. If you need to get out of the house, whether it’s to work or just take a walk, make sure you have your cell phone with you, and leave a note in the house.” I thought for a moment before adding, “And if the cops come to talk to you, whether or not you tell them about me is up to you. Technically, Jalen is the one who hired me, but as soon as I can completely clear you off the suspect list, he wants me to keep you up to speed on what I’m doing.”

The acknowledgment that he was still currently on a suspect list didn’t even phase him. This was a man who didn’t care what anyone thought of him, as long as he had his daughter.

“I’ll be in touch.”

After he left, Jalen stuck his head in. “Do you want me to just send people in as you send others out or do you want to call them in yourself?”

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