Page 13 of State of the Union (First Family 3)

She rang the bell and waited off to the side, always leery of people shooting through closed doors, especially since that’d happened to Sam and Freddie.

The door swung open.

Jeannie recognized LaToya from press coverage of the kidnapping. She had put on considerable weight since then and had a world-weary look to her that told the story of her long ordeal.

Jeannie held up her gold shield. “Detective McBride, Metro PD, to see LaToya Deasly.”

“I’m LaToya.” She eyed Jeannie suspiciously. “Did you find my daughter?”

“Not yet, ma’am, but I’m working on her case and was hoping for the chance to speak to you.”

“Are you the one who got abducted and raped?”

The question hit Jeannie like a fist to her already churning gut. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I followed the coverage of that. They said you were gutsy.”

“I survived.” Just barely, Jeannie thought.

“Come in.”

Jeannie followed LaToya into a warm, inviting living room that led into an eat-in kitchen.

“Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?”

“Water would be great. Thanks.” The offer of refreshments was much more than she’d expected from LaToya, who had every reason to despise the MPD and everyone associated with it.

“Have a seat.”

Jeannie joined her at the kitchen table.

“I have to say, it’s a shock to find an MPD detective on my front porch. I’ve gotten nowhere with your department for years.”

“I know, and I apologize for the failures of others. I wish I had a better explanation for you than people being overworked, but there’s nothing I could say that would ever make this right.”

“No, there isn’t. But if you find my daughter, I might find a way to forgive the sins of the past.”

“I want very much to find your daughter, and I’ve been reviewing everything I can about her disappearance. I spoke with the former boyfriend of the prime suspect.”

“Daniella,” she said in a dead-sounding tone. “My ex-best friend, who I’ve always believed kidnapped my child. There’s no way it’s a coincidence that she disappeared around the same time.”

“I don’t believe it is either.”

“I did everything for her. Took out a loan to pay for two trips to rehab, gave her a place to live when she got out, helped her find a job with my company. I come home one day, and she’s gone, and so’s my daughter. At first, I thought they’d left to get food or something, but when one hour became two and then three, and neither were answering their phones, I knew it was something else.”

“You called the police at nine twenty,” Jeannie said, consulting her notes.

LaToya nodded. “They sent Patrol officers over to take a statement, said they’d check into it and then… nothing. I waited two days before I called again, asking if there was any information about my daughter. No one knew what I was talking about. I had to give the entire report again. They sent a detective named Stahl over. He asked a bunch of questions, took some notes, said he’d put out an alert for Daniella’s car and track her phone and Carisma’s. Again, I waited days without another word. I left messages for Detective Stahl that went unanswered. I called the mayor’s office, the chief of police, the FBI. No one returned my calls.”

Jeannie tried very hard not to lose her composure. The sick feeling that overtook her had nothing to do with pregnancy. The treatment LaToya had received from all levels of law enforcement was an outrage. “I wish there was something I could say that would be adequate, but there’s nothing anyone could say that would explain how this could’ve happened.”

“People don’t care. That’s how it happened.”

“I care. This case has become personal to me, and I’m determined to see it through until you have some answers.”

“Why now?” LaToya asked, understandably suspicious.

“We started a review of former Lieutenant Stahl’s cases after his conviction.”

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