Page 18 of Ground Truth

“Yeah, that’s what I told Hanna. But she’s convinced there’s more to it.”

“Why?”

“Long story,” Drake said. “When Hanna called me, I thought I’d just make a few phone calls, locate the sister or get a date of death, and that would be the end of it.”

“But it didn’t work out that way.”

“Not even close. We can’t find Greta and can’t find any actual hard evidence that she’s dead, either,” Drake said. “Right now I don’t even have a death certificate.”

“What’s the friend’s name? The one Greta worked with.”

“Margo Brady. She works at an independent station. Channel 32 in Orlando. She’s a producer, I guess.” Drake wiped a palm across his face. “Hanna has never heard of her and has no idea what she might know about Greta.”

“If they were close friends, Margo Brady may be your best resource. Women tell each other all kinds of stuff. When’s she due back in town?”

“Today.” Drake glanced at his watch. “Arriving at the station a few hours from now. I’m going up to Orlando. Talk to her in person. Might get more that way.”

“Okay. Leave me the information you have on Greta, and I’ll check a few databases, see what we can learn before you interview Margo Brady,” Gaspar said, slurping the last of his now cold, sweet coffee the consistency of pudding. “Might even find Greta quickly and save you the trip. How’s that?”

“Thanks, man. I’d owe you.” Drake pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and forwarded texts to Gaspar’s phone. “Here’s Greta’s last-known address, birth date, social. Work address. She had a car, but the plates are expired and so’s the insurance. I’m hoping maybe Margo Brady knows where the car is now.”

“Did Greta or someone else drive it out of the state of Florida? Retitle the car in another state? If they did, there’d be no record of that in Florida databases,” Gaspar said. “One reason car theft rings get away with stealing cars.”

“Well that sucks. What a stupid system.” Drake shrugged, standing. “Okay. Guess I’ll hear from you when you have a chance.”

But the missing sister had captured Gaspar’s interest. “What about the husband?”

“Hanna never met the guy, but yeah. They were on the boat together when it went down.”

“So he died in the same accident?” Gaspar’s skepticism crawled up his spine. “Let me guess. His body was never found, either.”

Drake shrugged. “Spouses die together in tragic accidents all the time, don’t they? I remember Flint telling me that. There’s a whole bunch of law out there about who inherits in those situations.”

“I’ve got a bit of time today. Let me get a quick shower,” Gaspar replied, making up his mind in the moment. “I’ll ride up to Orlando with you.”

He didn’t have any active cases hot right now and he’d feel good to get out into the field for a while again. Give him a chance to size Drake up, too. In case he needed to use Drake in the future.

Flint said Drake was a good guy, and Flint would know. But now Gaspar wondered what Drake’s skills were, exactly.

“I really appreciate this, man. Pick you up in an hour.” Drake headed toward his rental. “I’ll fill you in on the way and we can figure out what to do next.”

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Chapter 11

Orlando

The address for Orlando’s Independent Television Channel 32 located it south and west of downtown in a mixed-use commercial district. Traffic along Florida’s Atlantic coast roads was, as always, heavy.

Drake had followed the navigation system directions north from Miami on the Florida Turnpike and then across on the Bee Line Expressway to another state highway running north. The route wound around a bit before reaching the right street.

The long drive allowed plenty of time to discuss the few facts Drake knew. Most of which he’d told Gaspar during their initial chat on the patio in the dark.

Gaspar used his laptop and secure hot spot to research Greta’s disappearance during the trip. They’d tossed around several theories and Gaspar researched the issues. He listed the relevant facts.

“Looks like Greta Campbell’s married name is Reed. She and her husband, Phillip Reed, left from Sarasota, Florida, for a two-day cruise in a twenty-nine-foot sailboat. Not technically a yacht, but big enough. When Greta didn’t show up for work as scheduled, coworkers reported her missing. The boat was never located, but searchers found a debris field in the area. They recovered items consistent with what would have been carried on the boat. After a lengthy search, both Dr. and Mrs. Reed were declared lost at sea, presumed dead.”

“Dr. Reed? First time I’d heard she was married to a doctor. Guess Hanna didn’t know that, either.” Drake paused to digest the report and then said, “That actually sounds kind of promising, doesn’t it?”

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