by Charly Cox
At his gruff command to enter, Alyssa turned the knob and walked in. Captain Guthrie Hammond was the kind of man who wore a permanent scowl and could make a large room feel tiny with his bulk. He grabbed a pink slip of paper and extended it her way, focusing his laser-like stare at her as he did. ‘How’d it go?’
Third time’s a charm. ‘It went.’ She tilted her head to the piece of paper. ‘That have anything to do with why you needed to see us this morning?’
He frowned at her dismissive response, but he handed over the paper. ‘This Angela Kazminski called to report that her roommate might be missing.’
‘Might be?’
‘That’s what she said. Roommate’s name is Rachel Otis. She attended a frat party Saturday night and never returned to the dorm. Ms. Kazminski’s been trying to reach Rachel’s parents, but has thus far been unsuccessful.’
‘If she went missing Saturday, why wait until today to report it?’
‘You’ll have to ask her that when you interview her. Get back to me as soon as you have some answers.’ His eyes shifted back to his computer, which was their cue to leave.
Alyssa closed Hammond’s door behind her before turning to Cord. ‘I just need to drop something off first.’ She didn’t wait for his response before weaving her way around cubicles and desks and making a beeline for the office, which was actually an ancient supply room, barely larger than a walk-in closet, that she and Cord had repurposed as their own personal workspace. It was a tight fit, but they didn’t complain. It was an improvement over the cubicles that most of the detectives were still forced to use in this cold, industrial building that housed some of the city’s finest.
They had been given permission to use the space after the news broke detailing the true identity of Evan Bishop. The chaos and chatter it had created within the department forced a rare act of mercy from the captain who was not well-known for his generous, understanding nature – he wasn’t nicknamed Captain Hothead for nothing – and he’d allowed Alyssa and Cord to use the derelict space as their own.
In their office, she pulled out her rolling chair that had nowhere to roll and leaned down to unlock her bottom desk drawer. From the inside pocket of her jacket, she removed a copy of the authorization she’d signed for Timothy Archer’s organs to be donated to science, dropped it inside, and then closed and locked the drawer once more. ‘Ready,’ she said, pretending not to notice the question in her partner’s gaze.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Alyssa parked her government-issued Chevy Tahoe in one of the few available spaces not designated for residents outside the apartment complex where Angela Kazminski lived with her parents when she wasn’t staying in the dormitories of the University of New Mexico.
Alyssa stepped out of the vehicle into the heat of what was promising to be another scorching day and glanced around. ‘Which building?’
Without looking at his notebook, Cord pointed to the third building on the right. ‘C. Number 1102.’
Being on the ground floor, the apartment was easy to find. At the door, Alyssa knocked, setting off a thunderstorm of angry, excited barking by what sounded like very large dogs, followed by a woman’s irritated voice. ‘Shut the hell up! Sit!’ Two seconds later, a dark-haired woman in her late forties or early fifties, who had to be ready to top six feet tall in her bare feet, opened the door, an unlit cigarette dangling from her fingertips. When she realized it was there, she pushed it behind her ear. ‘Sorry. I just quit. Sometimes it helps if I’m just holding it.’ Her eyes dropped to the badges clipped to their hips. ‘Are you here to speak to my daughter about Rachel’s disappearance?’
The mouthwatering aroma of roasted green chiles and tamales drifted out the door and filled every part of Alyssa’s olfactory sense, causing her stomach to growl. Another low grumble – this time not coming from her stomach – had her eyes shifting from the woman’s face to the dogs who sat obediently behind her, their bodies taut with barely restrained eagerness, ready to pounce at the slightest invitation. ‘Are those dogs or miniature horses?’
The woman laughed, taking her comment in stride. ‘They are humongous, aren’t they?’ Bending slightly, she reached back and patted the top of one dog’s head before repeating the motion with the other. ‘Despite what their size implies, they’re actually quite friendly. Unless you’re a bad guy; in which case, I’ve seen them nearly rip a leash in half to get to someone they don’t trust.’
‘Good to know. Yes, we’re here to speak to Angela. Is she home?’
‘She is. Why don’t you come in while I get her? My name’s Gabriella, by the way.’ She reached out slender fingers to shake their hands. ‘I’ll be right back.’ Turning to the dogs, she pointed. ‘Stay.’
The dogs followed their mistress with their heads until she was out of sight, and then they turned their attention back to the detectives as they entered the apartment, the dogs’ tongues lolling out the sides of their mouths, tails thwapping against the floor in a rhythmic beat. Less than a minute later, Gabriella returned with her daughter in tow.
Angela Kazminski wore a pair of leopard print yoga pants with a yellow blouse that hit mid-thigh. Shorter than her mother, she was also more robust, but in a healthy way, as if she wasn’t afraid to eat something besides salad. And if her mother’s cooking tasted as heavenly as it smelled, Alyssa didn’t blame her for wanting to devour more than green leaves and power foods. The expression on the girl’s face as she approached the living room was a cross between fear, hope, and nerves.
‘Angela?’ Alyssa asked.
‘Yes, ma’am. Thank you for coming.’
She made it sound as if it had been an invitation of some sort.
‘I’m Detective Wyatt. And this is my partner, Detective Roberts. We’d like to ask you a few questions regarding your dormmate.’
Angela pointed to an oversized couch that seemed entirely too large for the space it was in. ‘Do you mind if we sit?’ She laughed, a self-deprecating sound, and said, ‘I’m nervous, and I’d hate to faint on you or something.’
‘No need to be nervous. We just need to clear up a few things so we know where to direct our focus,’ Cord said, following her as she led the way to the living room.
Choosing the recliner closest to the television, Angela wrapped her legs beneath her, smiling when both dogs sidled up to either side and plopped themselves down in a semi-circle of protection around her. Keeping a careful eye on the newcomers, they rested their heads on their paws.
‘We understand you think Rachel went missing sometime Saturday night. Why did you wait until this morning to report it?’
Angela sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and brought her hands together, clasping and unclasping them. When she realized what she was doing, she slid them under her thighs. ‘I wasn’t really sure she was missing.’ She cleared her throat and bounced her gaze between Cord and Alyssa. ‘I was packing because we were supposed to be clearing out of the dorms for summer, so I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t even realize right away she hadn’t come back yet. It wasn’t until I had to move some of her things to get to mine that it hit me she wasn’t back and that I hadn’t seen anything on any of her social media sites.’ She pulled her hands from beneath her legs and twisted the ring encircling her pointer finger. ‘And then I was afraid of calling Rachel’s parents because I didn’t want to get her in trouble, you know?’
‘Get her in trouble how?’
‘Drinking. But, it’s not only that.’ Angela shifted in her seat. ‘Excuse me for saying this, but Rachel’s mom can be one cold bitch, and if she – Rachel – was just off on a bender, I didn’t want to get her into unnecessary trouble with her parents.’
As a mother to both an eighteen and fourteen-year-old, Alyssa wasn’t sure underage drinking should be considered ‘unnecessary trouble,’ but she kept that opinion to herself. ‘Did you try calling her?’
Angela nodded. ‘Yes, of course, but she didn’t respond to any of my texts, and when I called, it
went straight to voicemail.’
‘You said you were supposed to be clearing out of the dorms for the summer. Is it possible Rachel simply went home?’
Angela laughed. ‘No way. She was dreading it as it was. Not a chance she would’ve gone any sooner than she had to.’
‘What are their names, Rachel’s parents?’ Cord asked.
Face tinged pink, Angela admitted, ‘I don’t know their first names. “Mr. and Mrs. Otis” were the only names I’d ever known them by. According to Rachel, her dad is some kind of specialized heart surgeon, and her mother is an interior decorator turned professional nuisance.’ She plucked absently at the dog hairs decorating her clothes. ‘I only met them twice, and they were, um, obviously out of my league of players, you know?’
‘How do you mean?’ Alyssa asked.
Angela waved her hand around the apartment. ‘This place could fit inside their house, like, twenty times.’
‘Tell us about the last time you saw Rachel. Did she seem nervous or distracted, excited to meet someone at the party, maybe?’
‘No, nothing out of the ordinary. I mean, she wasn’t even planning on going at first because she was just getting over a cold. But since it was the end-of-semester frat party, another friend convinced her to go.’
‘And what is that friend’s name?’
Another flush of color raced into Angela’s cheeks. ‘I think it was Anna, or something like that. I don’t really remember, and I never knew her last name. I’m sorry. I’m not much help, am I?’
Cord smiled. ‘You’re doing fine. So, this Anna, you weren’t friends with her?’
Angela shook her head. ‘Rachel only just met her recently, like within a few weeks, right around finals, maybe? Rachel said she didn’t go to UNM but didn’t say where she did go. Or if she did, I don’t remember. Honestly, I was so focused on studying for my tests – I can’t afford to lose my scholarship – that I wasn’t paying close attention.’
‘Do you think you could give us a description?’
‘I only got a glimpse of her a couple times when she and Rachel were heading out somewhere, but she had medium-length hair, kind of a reddish blonde, about my height. Skinnier, though.’
‘What can you tell us about the party Rachel attended?’
Angela raised both hands, palms up. ‘Really, not much. I mean, I wasn’t invited – not that I probably would’ve gone even if I had been. I don’t even know which frat house hosted the party.’
Cord glanced down at his notebook and circled something. ‘Okay, so aside from Rachel being inactive on social media, what makes you think she’s missing instead of just sleeping off a hard night of partying? After all, some of these parties can go into the wee hours of the next morning.’
‘Rachel posts about everything– mostly pics and selfies – but other than when she first arrived at the party, there was nothing. Sometimes if she parties too hard, she’ll just hang somewhere and sleep off her hangover like you said, and at first, I thought maybe that’s what she was doing. But when she didn’t come home last night either, and I still didn’t see any posts, I told my mom about it, and we decided if I still hadn’t seen anything or heard from her by this morning, I needed to call.’ She chewed on a hangnail sticking out of her thumb. When she spoke again, her voice cracked. ‘What if something’s happened to her, and I’ve waited too long?’
‘We don’t know what happened, so let’s not jump to any conclusions.’ Alyssa did her best to reassure the girl. But if something had indeed happened to Rachel Otis, they needed to get moving on it soon because they’d already lost those first precious twenty-four hours. ‘I know you said you weren’t invited to the party, but do you know anyone else who might’ve gone?’
‘Chance Williams.’ She rolled her eyes as she said his name. ‘He’s um, a bit of a player. He posted tons of pictures on his Insta from Saturday. He’s with a different girl in every one. He fancies himself a real Lothario.’ She shot a sideways glance toward Cord before concentrating again on Alyssa. ‘He’s hot, and he knows it. It’s like he gets a thrill out of knowing everyone wants him, and he can pick and choose the ones he wants.’ A small smile lifted the corners of her eyes. ‘Well, almost.’
‘I take it you turned him down, and he didn’t appreciate it?’ Alyssa clarified.
‘Something like that. He never said anything. I just stopped getting invited to the parties.’ One shoulder lifted and dropped. ‘No biggie. They weren’t really my scene anyway. I know as a college student, I’m supposed to be all about the parties, getting drunk and all, but like I said, I can’t afford to lose my scholarship, so…’
‘Chance Williams,’ Cord wrote as he spoke. ‘Any idea how to contact him?’
Angela nodded even as her phone magically appeared in her hand. ‘Yep. I’ve got his number right here.’ A few seconds later, she held her phone out for Cord so he could write it down.
‘How about an address? I don’t suppose you have one of those for him, do you?’
‘Not really. But once, at a different party, I heard him telling a group of girls his family lives around the university area. Maybe around Ridgecrest? He could’ve just been lying, so who knows if that’s really true anyway?’
‘Since you’ve got your phone out, would you mind showing us a picture of Rachel?’
‘Sure. I can even send you a screenshot, if you’d like.’
‘That would be great, thanks.’ Alyssa pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it over, as did Cord, and then she stood. ‘If you think of anything else, even if you don’t think it’s important, please call. It doesn’t matter what time it is.’
As they stepped outside, Angela placed a hand on Alyssa’s arm. ‘You’ll let me know if…’ She swallowed and tried again. ‘You’ll be able to let me know if she’s okay… or not, right? Like, I know I’m not family or anything, but…’
Alyssa patted the young girl’s hand. ‘I’ll tell you what I can when we find something out. In the meantime, please remember to call if you think of anything else, or if you hear from Rachel.’
‘I will, and thanks.’ Angela closed the door behind them, shutting off all those amazing smells coming from the kitchen.
‘I want Casa Benavidez for lunch,’ Cord said as soon as he slid into the passenger seat.
‘Took the words right out of my mouth.’
‘It was all I could do not to salivate all over myself.’
Alyssa laughed because it really had smelled that good.
As they pulled out of the apartment complex, Alyssa realized it had been a while since she’d felt like this – in her element, doing her job. She was glad Indiana was behind her so she could concentrate on what was in front of her. And right now, that entailed tracking down a bunch of college-aged kids to try to convince them they needed to talk to the police about a frat party where a missing girl was last seen.
Chapter Three
Sunday, May 19
Beau Cambridge and Jersey Andrews leaned against the living room wall, kissing – the sloppy kind – as Holly Wyatt, Sophie Quill, her best friend since sixth grade, and Leigh Ann Wolfe counted cracks in the wooden beams on the ceiling, studied pedicures, examined split ends, or pretty much anything else to avoid seeing what they could unfortunately hear. The sickening sound of smacking lips and groans from the two lovebirds – at least ‘lovebirds’ for the past fifteen minutes; give it twenty, and they’d likely be back at each other’s throats – was almost enough for Holly to lose her appetite… and everything else she’d consumed that day.
‘When I told Jersey to embrace the suck earlier, I didn’t expect her to take it quite so literally,’ Sophie deadpanned, not bothering to keep her voice low.
Holly would’ve laughed, but she was far too irritated. Instead, she raised her voice and addressed the make-out queen. ‘Jersey, my stomach is currently gnawing on my spine I’m so hungry, so we’re heading to Saggio’s now. Are you coming with us or not?’
‘Hear, hear
!’ Sophie clapped, her head bobbing vigorously as she leaped to her feet and headed toward the door.
Leigh Ann remained quiet as she watched the couple like she might a movie that wasn’t good enough to continue but not bad enough to turn off. Then she, too, uncurled her frame from the couch and followed Sophie.
As Holly had expected, Jersey’s arms dropped from around her boyfriend’s neck as she lowered herself from standing on her tippy toes, as was required by her petite five-foot-one-inch frame compared to his towering six-foot-three.
But when her friend tried to take a step back, Beau’s fingers gripped harder at her hips to hold her in place, his lips and tongue all over her face (God, how could she stand that?). Then, he opened his dark eyes, stared directly at Holly and licked his lips as if he’d just polished off a juicy steak.
It was akin to being injected with live insects, and Holly fought the urge to scratch at her arms. She glared back before turning away just in time to see Sophie’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head.
Beau made a last grab at Jersey between her legs, winking at the others as he did, finally ending the semi-public display of affection. ‘Walk me out, baby. I still need to talk to you about something.’ In his typical caveman fashion, he dragged his girlfriend behind him to the door. He skewered Holly with his eyes when he passed her, clearly blaming her for prematurely ending his make-out session.
Good. Holly hoped he was pissed. The way he treated her friend like she was his property made him one of her least favorite people. She didn’t know what Jersey saw in him, but it wasn’t for her to decide who Sophie’s cousin dated. Not that she’d listen anyway. Jersey had never been great at taking advice, at least not since Holly had known her, when they’d become friends at the age of twelve.