by Charly Cox
‘Can’t we escape?’
This made Faye snort in a way that Rachel’s mother would describe as ‘unladylike.’ ‘How could we escape? We’re kept in this God-forsaken cage like wild animals. What are we going to do? Gnaw through the bars?’ The next words out of her mouth were a splash of cold reality that Rachel could’ve gone on denying for a while longer. ‘You know, we wouldn’t really be doing you any favors by sheltering you from the hard facts. Instead of trying to give you false hope, it would be better if we taught you how to survive.’
Chapter Five
Monday, May 20
Before leaving Angela’s neighborhood, Cord had called to ask Hal to run a search on Mr. and Mrs. Otis, and within minutes, he had an entire history in front of him, including an address and cell phone numbers. Sometimes it was easier to find facts on people who had money.
Since Rachel’s parents weren’t answering their phones, Alyssa and Cord decided to take their chances at catching them at their residence in the hope that Angela was wrong, and Rachel had indeed decided to return home early without telling her friend. They’d been driving in silence for a few minutes as Alyssa processed the million thoughts vying for first place in her head, not the least of which was Rachel. That another girl could be missing so soon after closing the serial killer case ratcheted up the tension for her, especially as Bishop had targeted young women for nearly two decades. She couldn’t help but fear a copycat killer.
‘It’s not going to be easy getting a bunch of underage-drinking college kids to admit to being at a frat party, much less give up helpful information,’ she told Cord.
He nodded his agreement. ‘Yeah, but if we can get some of them to come into the precinct, I’ll bet Hal can make them talk.’
It was true. Alyssa had never seen a man so capable of getting suspects, victims, or anyone else to relax and spill everything, whether it was relevant to a case or not. He always joked that it was because everyone trusts a man in a wheelchair, but Alyssa knew it was more than that… there was just something in his demeanor and personality that relaxed people, that told them he was safe. And she’d seen it long before his life had taken the turn that landed him in the chair.
Traffic was lighter than usual, so it wasn’t long before Alyssa flipped on her blinker and slowed for the turn onto Rio Grande, arguably one of the most scenic drives in the city. And the twenty-five mile per hour speed limit allowed travelers to admire the combination of old farm homes interspersed with ultramodern ones, different in their architectural style but all enjoying huge, spacious plots.
Six minutes later and after passing the house twice, they finally located the address and pulled up to a huge black wrought-iron gate. Alyssa and Cord both let out a low whistle. ‘Angela wasn’t kidding, was she?’ The house behind the gate looked like it could house a family of fifteen without the inhabitants ever running into each other.
‘Tell me again what Hal found on the parents.’
‘Mister was born wealthy and inherited money from his parents. That, coupled with his being a very specialized heart surgeon – whatever that means – gives them a very bloated financial statement. Like Angela said, the missus was an interior decorator/designer before marrying, and according to some social article in Albuquerque, The Magazine, the two met when he hired her to decorate his home in the foothills. And then they moved here.’
A crackling sound startled Alyssa until she realized it was coming from a cleverly hidden speaker nestled inside the hedge outside the gate.
‘Can I help you?’ a disembodied voice asked.
‘Detectives Wyatt and Roberts with the Albuquerque Police Department. We need to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Otis.’ Alyssa tapped her fingers on the steering wheel when there was no response. With each passing second, her tapping became harder and more insistent until Cord reached over and placed a hand over hers to stop the incessant noise.
‘Impatient, much?’ He removed his hand. ‘Patience really isn’t your strong suit, is it?’
‘And after five years of being my partner, this surprises you how?’
Five long minutes later, just as Alyssa was reaching out to jab the intercom button, the voice returned. ‘Please pull in.’ Before she could thank the invisible person, the gate rolled open, and she drove through.
Weeping willows, cottonwoods, and maple trees lined what appeared to be a private forest on either side of the winding driveway. The Otises lived in luxury most people only dreamed of. Surrounded by such lush greenery, Alyssa had to remind herself they were still in the metropolitan area. ‘It must take a small army to keep this yard up.’ As they neared the house, a maze of hydrangeas hugging a monstrous marble birdbath arose, shielding nothing of what had to be a ten-thousand-square-foot house – which didn’t include the attached six-car garage. ‘I could fit almost five of my house into this one,’ Alyssa muttered just as another thought occurred to her. ‘If they have all this money, why is their daughter attending a local, public university?’
Cord shrugged. ‘Good question. You should ask.’
She’d barely turned the ignition off when a heavy oak door opened to reveal a woman wearing tailored blue slacks and a matching silk blouse, large diamonds dangling from her ears, and a pearl necklace draped around her neck. Behind her and slightly to the left stood a man who maybe wasn’t quite as impeccably dressed, but his clothes still shouted expensive. The expression on his face could’ve been either boredom or irritation, Alyssa couldn’t tell which, or maybe it was a little of both, at this unexpected visit.
‘What? No butler?’ Alyssa mumbled as she opened her car door, only half kidding.
Cord chuckled. ‘Must be his day off.’
As soon as their feet hit the paved drive, they both patted their pants to make sure their gold shields were still clipped to their clothes and visible to the people they were approaching. When they were close enough, Alyssa extended her arm and introduced herself. ‘Detective Wyatt. This is my partner, Detective Roberts. Mr. and Mrs. Otis?’
Was it her imagination, or did Mrs. Otis curl her lip into a sneer before finally accepting the handshake? A visceral chord of dislike ran through Alyssa, but she shoved it aside. She didn’t have to like or admire people in order to do her job. If she did, she would’ve had to quit ages ago.
Unlike his wife, Mr. Otis accepted the detectives’ handshakes with a firm grip of his own. ‘Please come in,’ he said, turning and leading the way through a foyer and an open living area into an equally open kitchen that was home to not one, but two enormous granite-topped islands. Modern, dark-stained wood cabinets lined the walls. But what really made Alyssa’s mouth water were the three ovens situated around the room. She blinked, then counted them again. Yep. Three. How many guests did one invite to warrant that many ovens?
‘How exactly can we help you, Detectives?’ Though there was a definite chill in Mrs. Otis’s voice, there was still an appreciative glint in her eyes as she directed her question to Cord.
Alyssa mentally shook her head. Women had a tendency to gawk at her partner – who was rather handsome with his dark hair and piercing blue eyes tinged with ridiculously long lashes many women would pay a pretty penny for – though perhaps not as openly in front of their husbands.
The attention often made him uncomfortable, but he used it to his advantage when necessary. He smiled his million-watt smile. ‘Firstly, thank you for seeing us like this. We tried calling, but when no one answered, we decided to try our luck at catching you at home. We spoke to your daughter’s roommate this morning. Angela Kazminski?’
An angry frown turned down the corners of Mrs. Otis’s mouth, and Alyssa was certain the woman’s face was going to freeze into an icicle as any hint of warmth drained from her expression. ‘Yes, Angela called us a while ago. Is this going to take long, Detectives? I do have things on my agenda for today and can’t be held up.’
The woman’s attitude and behavior stunned Alyssa. How could she not be worried about her daughter possibly ha
ving gone missing? Through gritted teeth, she said, ‘Things that are more important than your missing daughter?’ Alyssa now understood Angela’s reaction when she’d asked if it was possible Rachel had just gone home to her parents’ house. Mrs. Otis’s coldness made it clear to her why Rachel had definitely not chosen to come home after attending the frat party, just as her roommate had insisted.
Rachel’s mother didn’t exactly roll her eyes, but it was close. ‘As I explained to Angela’ – the way she said the girl’s name made it sound like Rachel’s roommate was slightly above the status of a rodent – ‘I… we… don’t believe our daughter is missing. She’s simply run away for the time being. Isn’t that right, dear?’
Alyssa didn’t wait for Mr. Otis to respond, nor did she try to temper her disgust as she compared her own reaction when she had realized her son was missing, only to discover he’d been kidnapped by a serial killer. ‘First, let me be the first to point out that your daughter is nineteen years old, in college, and technically can’t be a runaway. And what makes you think she’s simply chosen to randomly disappear? Has she ever done something like that before?’
Mrs. Otis made a derisive sound and waved off Alyssa’s suggestion. ‘Of course not.’
‘Then, if she’s never pulled something like this before, what makes you think she has this time? In fact, let’s take it one step further… what if you’re wrong?’
Before Mrs. Otis could respond, the alarm over the front door emitted a long, loud beep, the sound followed by a bellowing, ‘Mother? Father?’
Mr. Otis yelled back. ‘In the kitchen.’
Heavy footsteps fell across the tiled floor, muffled only when they hit carpet. A brown-haired, brown-eyed young man, tall with what Alyssa liked to think of as a tennis player’s build, and a charming smile rounded the corner, hesitating only a fraction of a second before walking up first to Alyssa, then Cord, shaking their hands in turn.
‘You must be the detectives searching for my sister. Angela called me after she spoke to my parents.’ His lips tightened before he continued. ‘I’m Nick. Rachel’s older by four minutes and thirty-three seconds brother.’
A disgusted ‘hmmph’ burst from Mrs. Otis’s mouth, causing her son’s smile to widen as he explained. ‘Mother here simply despises it when I introduce myself as Nick. She prefers Nicholas, as it sounds so much more distinguished and snobby, much more befitting of her social circle.’ Despite the smile, his eyes were full of concern.
Alyssa liked the young man already. ‘Nice to meet you, Nick,’ she said, intentionally using the nickname his mother apparently loathed. His grin told her he approved.
Almost immediately though, the smile fell from his face as he reached up to rub two fingers over his eyebrows before catching himself and dropping his hand back down to his side. ‘Thank you,’ Nick said now. ‘But to be perfectly frank, I wish I wasn’t meeting you, or at least not needing to.’ Then he shot a narrow-eyed glare over his shoulder as he said, ‘If I’d known Rachel hadn’t been seen since Saturday night…’ He let the rest of the sentence trail off before saying, ‘As it is, I had to find out from my sister’s roommate.’
Alyssa didn’t miss the blush that ran up Mr. Otis’s neck and burned into his cheeks, nor the pursed lips indicating Mrs. Otis’s displeasure at her son’s irritation. Guessing she’d get more information from Rachel’s brother, Alyssa focused her attention on him instead. ‘Nick, your parents seem to think your sister isn’t missing, that she’s merely taken off. Do you share that view?’
She ignored the disgruntled huff coming from his mother, and so did he. His thumb and forefinger traced over an invisible goatee as he considered how to respond. ‘Well, now, to be fair, I wouldn’t put it past Rach to take off for a few days, especially if she’d done something stupid.’ When his mother muttered something that sounded like I told you so, Nick clenched his jaw and flicked his wrist as if trying to swat away an irritating bug. In this case, his own parent. Alyssa liked him more with each passing second.
‘However, she would never voluntarily be gone this long without posting something on her Instagram or Snapchat accounts or answering her phone – it’s gone straight to voicemail every time I’ve called which means Rach let her phone die, or she turned it off, something she never does. To be frank, Detectives, I love my twin, but anyone can recognize she’s an attention-whore.’
This time, Mrs. Otis couldn’t be ignored. ‘Nicholas Owen Otis! That is hardly an appropriate way to speak of your sister. We are Christians,’ she hissed.
Nick twisted so his body was angled toward her. ‘Are we though, Mother?’
An outraged gasp preceded her glare as she repeated, ‘It is inappropriate, and I won’t tolerate you speaking this way!’
Nick matched her cold glare with one of his own. ‘Nor is it appropriate, Mother, to pretend your daughter isn’t missing, merely for the sake of having to set aside some of your social activities or because it might look bad among your peers! What? Do your friends – and I use that term loosely – think running away is more au courant somehow?’
‘Well, I never!’ Mrs. Otis dramatically slapped her hand over her heart – if she even had one – as if her son had physically broken it, and then wheeled around to snap at her husband. ‘Roger, are you going to allow our son to speak to me in this manner?’
Alyssa turned her attention to Mr. Otis who, so far, seemed more like an embarrassed spectator than an active or willing participant in his wife and son’s exchange. With all eyes on him, the renowned surgeon shrugged. ‘Nicholas, please refrain from speaking to your mother in such a way. It’s impolite and disrespectful.’
Instead of sounding like he meant it, he sounded like someone used to reciting his lines, willing only to do his part, or the part delegated to him. The man may have been born with the proverbial silver spoon, but that sure hadn’t bought him a backbone.
Nick’s head tilted back as his eyes lifted to the ceiling, and then he turned his back to both parents, addressing Alyssa and Cord once more. ‘I don’t think my sister ran off. She was never much for the technicalities of school, but since Mom and Dad told her they’d cut off her allowance if she didn’t attend college, she went. I talked to her after her last final, and she was relieved her freshman year was out the window and she could focus on enjoying her summer break. That doesn’t really sound like someone who was secretly about to take off for places unknown. I don’t know what’s happened to her, but I’m willing to answer whatever questions you have so we can figure it out and find her.’
‘We appreciate that, Nick.’ Alyssa turned her attention back to Mr. and Mrs. Otis. ‘Do you mind if we take a look at Rachel’s room?’
Mrs. Otis narrowed her lips into a thin line. ‘Very well. Come along. Though I don’t know what you’re hoping to find.’
Turning on her expensive high heels, Mrs. Otis led the way to Rachel’s room. At the bedroom door, with her hand on the knob, she turned to Alyssa and Cord. ‘Please touch nothing.’ The way she said it made it sound as if she expected them to abscond with half their daughter’s belongings tucked beneath their shirts.
It was impossible not to notice the woman was far more concerned with her daughter’s belongings possibly disappearing than she was with the daughter herself. If Rachel had to come home to this for an entire summer, maybe she had run off. Alyssa couldn’t say she’d blame her. She didn’t try to hide her sarcasm when she responded. ‘We’ll try not to.’
Opening the door, Mrs. Otis ushered the detectives in with a wave of her arm. ‘My husband will attend you here. I’ll be downstairs.’ And then she was gone, leaving Cord and Alyssa to explore the room under the eagle-eyed glower of Mr. Otis and the anxious eyes of Nick.
She wasn’t sure what she expected, but what Alyssa found was nothing short of a typical young female’s room. Clothes, pricier than the ones her own daughter had, hung in an oversized closet; both framed and loose photos, mostly from her high school days, adorned the walls, shelves, and
corkboards; and expensive knickknacks from all over the globe were on display in a rather large, ornate curio cabinet. Aside from that, there was nothing that offered any clues as to where Rachel may have gone, or with whom.
‘Angela mentioned something about a new friend Rachel had begun hanging out with. You wouldn’t happen to know who that person is, would you?’ Alyssa directed the question to Nick but darted her eyes to Mr. Otis for his reaction. Aside from reaching up to rub his chin, his face remained blank, and he too glanced at his son to hear his response.
‘Come to think of it, she did mention meeting someone not too long ago. Not really sure of the timing, to be honest. Anna somebody or another.’ Like Angela, Nick turned a light shade of pink as he admitted he’d been distracted. ‘Rachel was in one of her moods where she just rambled on and on, and since I was the one who answered my phone…’ He let his sentence trail off, slowly shaking his head. ‘I guess I should’ve paid closer attention.’
And then, as if something had just occurred to him, he jerked his head up. ‘Wait, do you think this friend might know something? Maybe I could ask around.’
The last thing Alyssa needed was a civilian scaring off potential witnesses by hammering them with questions. No, she’d rather find this mysterious friend and question her herself. ‘Actually, what would be helpful is if you could give us a list of friends your sister usually hung out with. Do you think you could do that?’
Nick was already pulling out his phone, and then he walked over to his sister’s desk, opened a drawer, pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen, and began scribbling names and numbers down.
While he was busy doing that, Alyssa asked another question. ‘Do you know if Rachel had a boyfriend, or were there any guys she might’ve been interested in?’