“Private and public. There’s not a teacher who’s heard of a child who goes by the name of Ota—Otatay or anything like that.” She glowers at me a moment as if I had the audacity to make the whole thing up. “We’d like to send a sketch artist to the house this afternoon to work with you on a composite.”
“Yes, of course.” My pulse runs wild. Holy shit. Little demon is right. “You think this was a setup?” I look to Rich with his plain open face, and for a moment I can see my mother in his features and I fight the urge to bawl. For so long after she died I wished it were my father instead. I have always imagined he would go first and, somehow, he had weaseled his way out of my death fantasy scenario. I bet he was whistling Dixie the second that impact took her life.
“A setup?” Rich looks to McCafferty as if asking for permission. “It’s too soon to tell. You mean one of those child porn rings or something?”
“Shit.” I slap my forehead because for fuck’s sake the thought of someone harming my baby in that way hadn’t even crossed my mind.
“Whoa, whoa.” Rich pulls my hand away. “It’s not like that. My boys are still combing those woods. The fire department has pitched in, and we’ve got a volunteer league that’s due to meet at the Boys and Girls Club in a few hours. You want to be there for that?”
“I don’t know. I think I’d better stick around and make sure Ally’s okay. We’re going to want to keep looking ourselves. We can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“Good.” McCafferty clicks the tip of her pen. “I need you to tell me a few things about yourselves.”
“Such as?”
“Have the two of you had any marital problems lately?”
I shoot a quick glance to my father. So help me God, if he starts whistling away, I’m going to throttle him myself. “No, of course not. Nothing out of the norm. We’re here, excited about our move. I’m looking for work.”
“So you’re unemployed,” she says, jotting it down as if it were a point of interest.
“Yes, but so is half the damn country.”
“And your wife?” She never looks up from that yellow notepad.
“She’s staying at home. She used to work real estate for a time before we moved, but we agreed we didn’t want nannies raising our child. She’s been home ever since.”
“And she’s happy with this arrangement?” McCafferty scowls up at me as if I’ve imprisoned my wife to a form of servitude.
“Yes, she’s happy.” The words spit out like razors. “Up until last night, we were both very fucking ecstatic.”
“Calm down,” Rich whispers. Rich has always been the levelheaded one, the voice of reason, but at this moment he feels more like the devil’s advocate. Between my father’s chipper mood and Rich’s command for me to cool it, I’m about to shoot through the roof.
“Are there any weapons in the home?” McCafferty gives the place a quick once-over as if she might see one.
“Yes, I’ve got a gun with a hair trigger sitting on Reagan’s nightstand. No—I don’t have any guns. Allison and I both frown on it. We had a security system at the house back in L.A. We didn’t think we needed one here.”
“You didn’t think you needed one?” Her penciled in brows rise into her forehead, giving her an alien appeal, and it unnerves me.
“Concordia is safe—or so we thought.” I lean into the sofa, good and pissed at the fact I ever ventured out this way. What the hell was I thinking? You could smell the stench of death all the way back to L.A. on a clear breezeless night. Deep in my heart, I knew it was a mistake before the suggestion ever left my lips.
“It is safe.” McCafferty clicks her pen shut and leans in with those sad, drooping hound dog lids. “Or at least it was until last night.”
“We’ll know more this afternoon.” Rich slaps me on the knee and rouses me from my stupor. “The first forty-eight hours are critical in an investigation like this. Just keep those prayers going up. My mom has the entire damn town on bended knee.”
“Good to know. Thanks, man—appreciate it.”
The four of us walk outside, and I watch as McCafferty hops into her midsized SUV and whips out of the driveway.
“You like her?” I nod to the dust she left in her wake. I’m not sure why I don’t have an easy feeling about the woman, but something about her rubs me the wrong way.
“She’s good people. Means well. A little butch if you ask me, but that’s just how she rolls. She’ll get to the bottom of things, though, and that’s what you want. That woman knows her shit. There’s never been a case in Concordia she hasn’t cracked.”
“How many missing children have you had around these parts?” I didn’t really need to ask the question. I already know the answer.
“None up until yesterday. But the girl knows her stuff. Mark my words. She’s going to have a solid lead before the sun goes down.”
“She’d better have two solid little girls.” Dad nods to Rich before ducking back into the house and out of the icy air.
It’s so cold out Reagan could have frozen to death last night. I wait until the door shuts tight before stepping in close to Rich.
“What was up with those questions?”
“Just routine, man.” He slaps at the back of his neck and his face lights up like a plum. “She asked me a few things in the hall, but in all honesty I don’t know the two of you well enough to answer any of it. What have we seen of each other? A few holidays here and there? I told her to ask you herself. It’s not so bad. She has to do a thorough investigation.”
“Of what, us? Dude, there’s some motherfucking maniac out there—”
He raises a hand and winces. “And that cussing of yours. I get it. You’re on the brink, but I’d hate for you to give her the wrong impression.”
“What do you mean the wrong impression?” It takes all of my self-control not to knock him back into that patrol car and remind him there’s an angry, hostile world he’s sworn to protect and serve. “I get it. Life moves at a snail’s pace around here and old school values and morals still reign supreme, but so do perverts and you’d be a salty son of a bitch too if your daughter was out there somewhere and you didn’t have a clue.” I give his tire a kick before thrashing my shoe into his front bumper. “You fucking piece of shit.”
Rich waits until I settle down, remaining calm, cool, and collected like he always is, like he always has been. “You know where the Boys and Girls Club is. We’re starting the meeting at noon. Bring your wife. Everyone’s looking forward to meeting her.”
“I will.” I scratch the back of my head and watch as he gets into his comfortable car and pulls out of the driveway with that comfortable look on his face.
Hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear he was whistling Dixie.
* * *
Noon comes like a bastard without my daughter and both Allison and I force ourselves to throw some fresh clothes on and drive down to the Boys and Girls Club. The lot is brimming with cars and so is the overflow in the street. A police officer stands in the middle of the intersection directing traffic and flags us over.
I roll down my window as he slows me to a stop. “You here for the missing kids?”
Ally leans in past me. “God—have you found them?”
“No, ma’am. We’re just getting the volunteer league together. Park to the left if you’re here to help.”
“We’re here to fucking help,” I mutter as I land a spot at the distal end of the lot. Ally and I stagger the long way across the city park, across the street before finally hitting the short box of a building that houses the Boys and Girls Club. Dad volunteered to stay back at the house this afternoon. I asked him to hang around in the event Reagan and her friend came strolling back like nothing happened. Although something tells me that girl was no friend.
Ally leans in while holding my arm as if she needed it to keep her upright. She managed to run a brush through her hair, but her face is bloated and blotchy from tears.
“Who the hell do you think she was—an actress?” she asks the question as if reading my mind. “How could she not exist?” Her fingers pinch into my arm, crushing right down to the bone.