Page 27 of My Child is Missing

“Typical teenage stuff,” said Gretchen.

“Yes,” Josie agreed. She thought of the array of family photos in the upstairs hall and how ninety percent of them were of Kayleigh’s younger sister. There were eight years between them. Surely, the Patchetts had taken photos of Kayleigh before Savannah arrived. Why weren’t any of those framed and displayed? “But do her parents come down so hard on her because she breaks their rules, or does she break their rules because she is trying to get their attention?”

“Could be a bit of both. Neither of us is in a position to theorize.”

Although Gretchen had twins that she was in touch with—her daughter, Paula, lived with her—they were now in their twenties, and both had been adopted as infants and raised by other families. Josie hadn’t even entertained the notion of having her own children until recently. Both their own mothers had been brides of Satan—hardly examples of good parenting.

“That’s true,” said Josie.

“You think we need to look more closely at the parents?”

“I’m not sure. I just wonder if in any of Kayleigh’s adventures, she met someone who might have wanted to do her harm.”

“We’ll need to talk to someone besides her parents,” Gretchen said. “Friends, coworkers, classmates.”

“Yeah, I’d like to start with her friend Olivia, but let’s keep the focus on Henry Thomas for now since Blue led us to him. What did Noah tell you about Thomas’s associates?”

Gretchen put on her reading glasses and took out her notepad, flipping until she found the page with the notes she’d taken while speaking with Noah. “He talked with five different guys—contacts from Henry Thomas’s phone. One of them was a counselor who helps convicts transition back into society. He was the one who helped Thomas get the job at the city park. He said Henry was never particularly remorseful about what he did but he was very intent on staying out of trouble from here on out.”

“Isn’t that what anyone would say to a guy who was helping them get a job?” Josie asked.

“That’s what I think, but based on Thomas’s cabin, which is clean as a whistle, and the fact that he was so cooperative, there is likely something to what the counselor said.”

Josie gulped down some more of her latte and fished the second Danish out of the bag. “He’s clean and cooperative not because he intends to do no wrong this time around but because he intends not to get caught. There’s a difference. I’m telling you, he was too smug. He’s hiding something and he’s hiding it really damn well.”

“Agree,” said Gretchen. She flipped another page. “Two of the guys Noah talked with are in a pool league with Thomas. Wednesdays at Brews and Cues. They said Thomas started coming in there regularly about a year and a half ago. They got friendly with him. He’s good at pool, evidently. They claim they don’t see him outside of pool league. Neither of them has a criminal record. They’ve both got alibis for yesterday.”

“The other two guys?”

“One Thomas met in prison. That guy has an alibi. He was in a holding cell in Bellewood sleeping off a drunk and disorderly all day. The other guy is a coworker. They sometimes go to the strip club together.”

“Nice to know Foxy Tails is still in business,” Josie said with a sigh. She’d had occasion to visit the club many times as a police officer. None had been pleasant. “Does the strip club coworker have an alibi?”

Gretchen turned another page. “He worked seven to three yesterday, so he’s got one for most of the day. Another park employee was with him the entire day except for lunch, which was a half hour.”

“We can pretty much rule him out then,” said Josie. “Criminal record?”

“No. Also, Noah spoke with Henry Thomas’s boss who had nothing to say about him except that he is reliable and stays out of trouble.”

“Is there anyone left?” asked Josie. “Anyone Noah didn’t talk with?”

“One guy,” said Gretchen. “Morris Lauber, sixty-two. Lives in an apartment in Southwest Denton.”

NINETEEN

I went unnoticed by the police for so long. I was as careful as I could be but I never expected to remain unseen forever. Now I watch as the first flurry of news reports come in. Not about me. Not yet. Only about what I’ve done. This is my first time seeing my work on television. A new thrill. I like this taste of fame, even if it doesn’t have my name on it yet. I am nothing if not patient, and if they do not begin to give me proper credit, I’ll just have to raise the stakes. Even with so much scrutiny, I know where to find fresh victims.

TWENTY

Josie’s calves burned as she followed Gretchen up the eighth flight of steps in Morris Lauber’s apartment building. Although most of West Denton was upper middle class with almost no crime at all, and South Denton was more of a business district than a residential area, also with little crime, Southwest Denton had distinguished itself as one of the seediest and most run-down areas of the city. One main thoroughfare in particular was made up mostly of old apartment buildings over laundromats, takeout food places, and pawn shops. Almost all of them were six stories or more. Morris Lauber’s building was ten and he lived on the tenth floor. They’d tried the elevator but after waiting for fifteen minutes in a hot, windowless lobby that smelled like piss and hot wings, they decided to take the stairs.

“Have you been jogging?” asked Josie as they reached the ninth floor. “You’re not even huffing.”

Gretchen glanced back at her. Josie could see that her face was bright red and covered in sweat. “Paula’s got me out running almost every morning. Trying to get me on this health kick.” She squeezed a roll of skin beneath her Denton PD polo shirt. “Wants me to lose some of this because I’m prediabetic.”

“That’s great,” Josie said.

“No, it’s not,” Gretchen replied, trudging up the last flight of stairs. “It’s terrible and I hate every second of it. By the way, if you could not mention that pecan croissant the next time you see her…”

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