Chapter 7
Rachel and Red left the hotel early the next morning, when the sunny mid-September air still felt cool. The road to New Orleans was crowded, but they still made good time. An hour and a half later, Red and Rachel pulled into the parking lot where the O’Malley truck was last seen. Red shifted the car into park. As Rachel stepped out, she noticed the heat of the day was already picking up.
She followed Red over to a patch of asphalt. “According to the police report, this is where Matt stopped to check his tire,” he said. “The truck was found with the back hatch opened, a flat rear tire, and a tire iron with specks of blood. His wife Erin’s purse was on the passenger floorboard. The kids’ backpacks, soccer equipment, and a cooler were all in the back. The backseat DVD player was still running.”
Rachel looked up, wishing she could know what Matt O’Malley had seen that evening. Now, in the bright morning sunshine, this place seemed completely ordinary. It was a parking lot bordered by the Mississippi River to the south and a hotel chain to the right. Nearby was another parking lot with an attendant station and signs for a paddleboat river ride. She observed several people walking around the riverfront and coming in and out of the hotel.
“It’s hard to believe that nobody saw anything. Anywhere around the riverfront in New Orleans is always jumping with tourists.” Rachel had observed a casino, the aquarium, paddleboat operators, several hotels, and the convention center within minutes of the lot. “When the O’Malley family pulled in here around six thirty or seven o’clock in the evening, the sun would just be setting. Plenty of light.” Rachel looked again at the hotel entrance. “Any chance of security cameras?”
“Yeah,” Red answered. “The detective in charge of the case said they checked it out and found nothing in range of the parking lot.”
“Between here and the city park, Matt stopped for gas. Do we know which gas station?” Rachel asked.
“The police traced his credit card, which was used at a local Chevron located a few blocks away on Poydras Street. About a five-minute drive from here.”
“Police talked to the people at the gas station?” Rachel asked, guessing the answer. Red’s experience as a police detective made him a very thorough investigator, and he would have looked at every angle.
“Nothing out of the ordinary there. No working security cameras on the outside of the station. Matt paid at the pump. Didn’t even go inside.”
“Working security cameras inside the gas station?” Rachel asked.
“Just on the inside,” Red confirmed.
Rachel knit her eyebrows together. “Any reason why we shouldn’t look at the tape anyway? Matt may have been followed. We could have Chris look at the tape. See if he notices anyone familiar,” she said.
“Good point. I’ll check with my contact to see if I can get a copy.”
“You got the whole area covered with flyers? Talked to all the tourist joints around here?” Rachel felt sure the answer was yes, and that only made her feel more frustrated. How did a whole family just disappear in an area that was crawling with tourists?
“I had the team put a flyer on the window of about every storefront between here and the French Quarter,” Red said, nodding.
“No calls yet on the tip line?”
“We’ve had the usual nut jobs call in. The only solid lead was a person saying they thought they saw the O’Malley kids at a McDonald’s in Lafayette. It’s about two hours from here. Turned it over to the detective working the case here, but nothing came of it.”
Anytime Florida Omni Search got a call for help to find a missing person, they put a team in place immediately to start canvassing the area where the person was last seen. Rachel had a database of thousands of volunteers in almost every major city in the United States. Once they got the call for help on the O’Malley case, Janine and her team had created a flyer that was e-mailed out to the team leader in New Orleans, who in turn printed and distributed the information.
“The team took to the street all weekend handing out flyers and talking to tourists and business owners. Hell, the O’Malley family is well-known in the area. And with the media coverage this case is getting, if someone saw anything, we’d know by now,” Red continued. Rachel sighed. Red sounded as frustrated as Rachel felt. It was one thing to find a missing person, but to find a missing family that vanished into the thin air was another thing.
“I wish we’d get word on the body they found in Houma,” said Rachel. “Hopefully that will give us more to go on than an empty parking lot.”
“I’m sure we’ll hear something soon enough. If not from Krapek, then from Detective Kerry Jones at NOPD. Apparently, Detective Jones knows Chris and Matt from working with them on cases involving O’Malley bond clients, so she’s been good about sharing information,” said Red. “Let’s take a ride by the O’Malley residence. Maybe something will shake loose there.” Rachel followed Red back to the car, and moments later they were headed for the Garden District.
“Impressive,” said Rachel, as Red pulled up to the wrought iron gate and she got her first view of the O’Malleys’ home through its ornate bars. It was a beautiful Victorian house on a magnificent lot covered in stately oak trees. A police cruiser kept guard just outside the entryway.
“Think we can go in?” Rachel asked.
“Only one way to find out. I’ll be right back.” Red parked behind the cruiser and got out. Rachel watched as he went up to the patrol car and talked to the officer behind the wheel. After a few minutes, he waved for her to get out of the car. She met him at the front gate.
“How’d it go?”
“Good. I had him call Chris O’Malley, and he gave us the green light to go inside. The front door’s unlocked.”