Page 62 of Paternal Instincts
“Not at all.”
“Personal business is personal business.”
“Absolutely.”
Dontreltsked. “You see, I saw him meet with someone, and it didn’t look like a business meeting. I would have mentioned it before, but I was conflicted about confidentiality and losing the trust of the people who work in the building. I shouldn’t broadcast their private affairs. I should mind my business.”
“I assure you, whatever you reveal to me will only be used within the department for our investigation. It might pertain to a serious case, Mr. Aston.”
“I know. Mr. Davis’s son’s missing. I heard on the six o’clock news this morning. It’s why I decided I needed to call.”
Aslan rolled his hand. I agreed. The man was taking an eternity to get to the point, but I didn’t want to push too hard since he seemed conflicted.
“What did you see, Dontrel?”
“Mr. Davis met with a young woman. Not a business-type woman. You can tell those sorts easily with how they dress and talk, always in high heels with their briefcases. Women today are powerhouses. Never underestimate them. That’s what my wife tells me. This was a young girl. Pretty thing. Maybe twenty or so. I’ve got a daughter about the same age, so I think my guess is about right. Their meeting… It was… intimate.”
I caught Aslan’s eye. He’d gone still, lips parted.
“Did she have red hair?” I asked.
“Yep. Touched by fire, don’t they say? Anyhow. It seemed to be a… personal meeting, like I said. I sure hope I’m not getting anyone in trouble. I felt obligated to let you know, and I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner.”
“I appreciate your phone call, Dontrel. I have an important question. Would you be willing to make a statement, understanding that the information you shared with us would only be used to advance our case and not to exploit you in any way?”
“Well… I suppose that would be okay. Can we do it away from work? I don’t want anyone to talk.”
Aslan tapped his chest, and I nodded.
“Do you work today, Dontrel?”
“I do. Not until eight.”
“Can I send a detective to your residence right now?”
“Well, sure. That works for me.”
We made the arrangements, and I hung up. “The second you have his statement, get a warrant for video surveillance from their food court area and have Costa find me proof of this meeting.” I dragged my fingers through my hair, messing up the meticulous gelling I’d given it. “Nanny Clementine hasn’t even been on my radar.”
“When was she fired?”
“Last week sometime. Nixon has some explaining to do.”
***
I called Edwards and gave him an update as I drove to the Davises’. Due to the nature of the case, he didn’t feel we needed a press conference. We weren’t pleading with an unknown perpetrator to return the child. Whoever had Crowley was someone close to the family, and I suspected the parents had answers they weren’t sharing.
Despite my suspicion, Edwards told me to tread lightly where Imogen and Nixon were concerned, expressing the possibilities of backlash if the department didn’t present itself as sympathetic to the parents of a missing child. He wouldn’t hear any arguing on the matter. “You’ve got a delicate situation on your hands, Valor. I’m not saying don’t investigate, but god help me, I don’t want the media giving us grief.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
The press hadn’t arrived on the scene yet, so Cragmuir Court was quiet. After a quick text to Aslan, asking him to let me know immediately if the security guard confirmed the redhead was Clementine, I waited for my partner to show up.
Jordyn parked behind the Charger less than five minutes later. I met her on the street outside the Davises’ and told her about the phone call from Dontrel and my instructions to Aslan. She agreed aboutacquiring a financial breakdown of the Davises’ accounts, and I texted Aslan to add it to his and Costa’s list for the day. Since we had at least a couple of hours before they could report back to us, I suggested we chat with Nixon.
“Little liars everywhere,” Jordyn said as we approached the house.
“Indeed.”
