If She Ran (Martina Monroe Book 2)

by H K Christie

  The Woodsons exchanged glances. "She had anorexia since middle school. Her junior year was stressful, and it took a terrible turn. She was admitted into Delta Hospital's eating disorder clinic. She was in outpatient care her senior year."

  I wondered if the girls knew each other? They were all outpatients around the same time. "Do you have the name of her doctor?" I was sure they did. They were attentive parents who thought they knew everything about their daughter. I had a feeling they didn't.

  "Yes, we can get that information for you. Is that something similar to the other cases?" Mr. Woodson asked.

  "Yes."

  "Do you have a suspect? Is it that Jordan Starr you mentioned?"

  "He's someone we'd like to talk to, but he's not a suspect yet. We're going to be having a press conference tomorrow, announcing that we're reopening the three cases. We'd like to keep as many of the details private as possible to avoid false confessions or wacky tips that are just going to waste our time."

  "Okay. We'll keep this to ourselves."

  "It would also be helpful to get a list of names of Raquel’s closest friends so that I can talk to them as well. Sometimes teenagers don't tell their parents everything. But usually, in my experience, they will tell their best friends." But not necessarily everything. I knew that firsthand.

  "Sure."

  "When she was at the clinic, did she meet any new people or make any friends?"

  "No, not that I know of."

  "She didn't get too close to any of the staff or other patients?" I asked.

  "No. She's pretty tight with her best friends, but there wasn't anybody new in the last year or two before she disappeared."

  "Was there anything missing from your daughter's room or anything that seemed out of place?" I asked.

  "No, everything is how she left it. I can show you her room."

  "Yes, I'd like that."

  I followed Mrs. Woodson through the foyer and up the steps. The walls were lined with family photos. Mrs. Woodson opened the door, and I stepped into Raquel's room. It was large and tastefully decorated with pink and purple hues, including a love seat, a coffee table, desk, and a queen-size bed.

  "Do you mind if I look through her things?"

  "Go ahead."

  I opened the door to her walk-in closet. Everything was immaculately organized. Her dresser had only a few drawers since most items were hung on hangers. There was no makeup or hairbrushes, but she was leaving on a trip, which could explain that. "Is this where she would typically keep her makeup and hairbrushes, or did she keep them in the bathroom?"

  "In her bathroom down the hall, but I think she packed most of it for her trip."

  As I suspected. I walked into the bathroom, then opened drawers full of lotions and perfumes. In the bottom drawer, I paused. Underneath a pile of cotton rounds and Q-Tips was a manila envelope. I removed it and opened the flap and pulled out an 8 x 10 headshot of Raquel Woodson. I walked back into the bedroom and showed it to Mrs. Woodson. "Have you seen this before?"

  Mrs. Woodson's mouth dropped open. "No, where did you find that? I've never seen it before."

  I gave her a knowing look. "It was in the bottom drawer in her bathroom."

  "She must've had it taken right before she disappeared."

  My heart beat faster. These three cases were related. I was sure of it. They all had gone to the eating disorder clinic. They all had secret headshots. Why? Why had Raquel gone that route? Maybe she was more against the family's plan for her to go to the university than she had let on to her parents? It wouldn't be the first time a teenager deceived her parents.

  I think the key was Jordan Starr and his brother, the nurse from the eating disorder clinic. I wondered how they were able to convince these girls to keep the secret of their relationship from their parents?

  The other key to this would be to talk to Raquel's friends, considering the friends always knew more than the parents.

  Before exiting the home, I providing Mr. and Mrs. Woodson my business card, and thanked them for their time and let them know I'd notify them of any new developments.

  I made my way back to my vehicle and hopped inside. I was excited we'd made the connections but soon deflated as the realization hit. It wasn't likely that these girls had gone somewhere willingly. A shudder went through me. The possibilities of what became of those young women was horrifying.

  9

  Detective Hirsch

  Martina jogged toward me. The press conference started in five minutes. Based on her urgency, she must have something to tell me. "Hey, Hirsch. I just got a call from Lizzie, one of Raquel Woodson's best friends. She got my number from the Woodsons. She told me she didn't know where Raquel was the day she went missing, but that Raquel said something big was happening and that they had a lot to celebrate when they arrived in Hawaii."

  "Like maybe her big break thanks to the super-duper talent agent, Jordan Starr?" I asked.

  "Exactly," Martina said.

  "Man, you were right on with this one, Martina. They're all connected. There's no way that they're not. The question is, if Jordan Starr has them, what is he doing with them?"

  There were too many terrible possibilities. If he wasn't keeping them hostage, or hadn't killed them, he could've been trafficking them. Three young, pretty women would be worth quite a bit in the black-market sex trade. I wish there were better scenarios. The three knew one another and ran off together? I doubted it. Maybe Layla and Willow, who had come from dysfunctional homes but not Raquel.

  "Exactly. We need to go through the rest of the files. We need to know if there are other young women that went missing under similar circumstances. Three girls in three months is a lot. I doubt it was our perp's first offense."

  Martina nodded. "I agree."

  "You ready to be on TV?" I asked.

  She shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."

  "All right, let's go."

  I strutted toward the podium. Sarge stood next to it in his dress uniform with a satisfied grin on his face. The brass must love all the positive press the department had been receiving since Martina’s and my last team effort. There were two flags on either side of the podium. A United States flag and the California state flag. It was very official, and my first press conference. My sergeant held the last press conference where he'd congratulated me and Martina for finding Donna Bernard and closing the homicide investigation of Theodore Gilmore.

  It was hard to believe that had only been a month ago. I shook Sarge's hand and stood in front of the podium. Sarge was on my right and Martina on the left. In front of us were rows of chairs for the press and families. The lights were bright and cameras were everywhere.

  The irony suddenly struck me. The desire for the bright lights and cameras might have been the reason we had three missing women. "Thank you all for coming here today. My name is Detective August Hirsch, and on my left is Private Investigator, Ms. Martina Monroe of Drakos Security & Investigations. We're here today to announce that we are reopening three missing persons cases, where three young women disappeared nearly four years ago. Raquel Woodson." I turned to the right, where a large screen displayed Raquel's photo. "Willow Stevens." Willow's photo flashed on the screen next to Raquel's. "And Layla Carmichael." With the three photos side-by-side, the girls' resemblance of one another couldn't be disputed.

  "We are choosing to investigate their disappearances from four years ago, as one case. It was discovered that there are multiple similarities linking the three young women, thanks to the dedication and hard work of our consultant, Martina Monroe. It is our mission to bring these three women home. The three women disappeared nearly four years ago, just one month apart. Raquel from Moraga, Willow from Antioch, and Layla from Grapton Hill. All three had just graduated from high school and were aspiring actresses. We think that the three of them had the same agent. A man named Jordan Starr. We currently have not been able to locate Jordan Starr. However, if anyone has any information about Jordan Starr, the
talent agent, or his brother, Jon, please notify the CoCo County Sheriff's Department at the number you see on the screen. Thank you."

  A dark-haired woman in the front row raised her hand.

  "Yes."

  "Why has the sheriff's department brought in an external consultant to help with the case?"

  "Based on our current case load, we needed the extra set of hands. Martina has more than proven herself in the past when she found Donna Bernard last month. If someone's missing, Martina will find them. Next question."

  "Do you think the girls are still alive?" The reported asked.

  "We have no reason to believe they're not still alive, but we don't have anything to say they are. Time will tell. Next question."

  After a barrage of questions from the press and multiple answers of "no comment" or "I can't comment on that at this time," the station's press liaison ushered Martina and me out of the room and back into the station. "I think that well," Martina said.

  "Now we wait to sift through the fake tips on Jordan Starr from all the crackpots who call in, but you never know, maybe we'll get a few legitimate ones. My hope is if Jordan approached other women, they'll come forward and give us a description."

  "Let's hope so."

  "Are you up for a bite to eat? I'm just wrapping up my other case. We can refuel and discuss the girls’ cases?"

  Martina said, "Yes, please. We need to figure out who and where Jordan Starr is, and fast. If there's any chance those girls are still alive, now that it's public the cases are related and being investigated, it could put them in jeopardy."

  "I agree."

  We were about to exit to go to the local sandwich shop when we ran into Vincent. "Hey, Vincent."

  "Hey, Hirsch, Martina."

  "Hey, thanks for your help with our investigations. Did you find anything new on Roger Carmichael or Jordan Starr?"

  "Nope. If you ask me, Roger is long gone, and maybe from this world, and Jordan Starr never existed. Hopefully, the press conference will bring in some credible tips."

  "Do you have time to grab a bite with us? I think we could use your help."

  "Sure."

  Vincent was exactly whom we needed. He was quick and talented and wouldn't let us down.

  10

  Layla

  I woke up with a raging headache. I opened my eyes and studied my new surroundings. I was in a big room and there was a chain with a padlock around my ankle. Next to me on the floor was a bottle of water and a banana. I stared across the room and gasped. One of the emaciated women I recognized from the news. Raquel Woodson. "Don't scream. He doesn't like it. Like really doesn't like it," she mumbled.

  My eyes darted toward the other girl. I didn't recognize her. She wasn't on the news as far as I could remember. They were both chained at the ankle and sat on top of their cot, watching me. "Where are we?"

  "The barn. He rarely lets us out except for photo shoots and trips to the bad place."

  Was this some new wave performance art? I didn't know what to make of the barn. It wasn't awful. On the far end were three cots and the other end had a table, two couches, and a television. I stared at Raquel and the other girl. "How long have you been here?"

  "I'm Raquel. I've been here, I don't know—a few months. It seems like an eternity."

  The other girl was thin, blond-haired, and blue-eyed, like Raquel and me. "My name is Willow. I think it's been a few weeks or a month or, well... What month is it?"

  "It's August."

  Raquel said, "Well, then, I've been here two months." She shook her head in disbelief. "It's only been two months."

  "A month for me," Willow said.

  "What happens here?"

  "Well, first off, I have to tell you, and when I say I have to, he said I had to. There are rules. He doesn't like crying. He doesn't like screaming. It ends really bad if you do. He comes in twice a day. He gives us food, water, and takes pictures. And when it's your turn, you go with him."

  I wasn't sure if I wanted to ask for details, but curiosity got the better of me. "What kind of pictures? And what happens when you go with him?"

  "He poses us in scenes, like a regular photo shoot. He'll photograph us in here or outside or in the other house. But, before he takes us out, he chains us together."

  From the vacant look in their eyes, it must be worse than that. "Does he touch you?"

  The two girls exchanged glances. Raquel nodded. "He comes for us, one at a time. It's best not to fight him," Raquel said with a steely gaze.

  A shiver went down my spine despite the heat. I couldn't believe I once found the man attractive. "I'm so sorry." I was and then was filled with even more dread. It was my fate as well.

  Raquel sat up straight. "Look, here are the rules. Follow them. If you don't, he will hurt you. He calls himself, The Master. Just do what he says. Most times, he's not that bad. Eat the food that he gives you. It's not optional. He gets mad if you don't. Drink all the water too. He gets mad if you don't drink the water. He doesn't like when we ask questions either. It's best not to say anything when he's around unless he asks you a direct question."

  I flashed back to the dressing room. The three women posed were all dead. Had they started in here? Did they not follow the rules and ended up in the dead room?

  "What's your name?" Raquel asked.

  "Layla."

  "Where are you from?" Willow asked.

  "Grapton Hill."

  "How did you meet him?" Willow asked.

  "My agent set up a photo shoot. I thought he was a photographer. I mean, like, a real one."

  "Who's your agent?"

  "Jordan Starr."

  Raquel shook her head. "Jordan Starr. What a piece of garbage."

  Willow nodded.

  "You know Jordan?"

  "Yep, I thought he was my big break. It sounds so stupid now," Raquel said quietly.

  "How did you meet him?"

  "His brother."

  My eyes widened. "Jon?" I asked.

  Willow and Raquel side-eyed each other. "Did you spend time at Delta's EDC?"

  I nodded.

  Raquel's face turned crimson. "Unbelievable."

  "You too?" I asked.

  "Yep. Iris too. Jon recruited all of us and then handed us off to Jordan, who then set up the meet with our not-so-friendly photog. I'm guessing all of this is ringing a bell."

  I nodded. Jeez. How many others were there? How could Jon do that to us? I thought he was my friend. We'd bonded during my time at the hospital. "Who's Iris?"

  Willow glanced down at the ground. "She was here before you. She tried to escape. He didn't like that, and he killed her," she whispered.

  "In front of us," Raquel added, "he slit her throat and then made us clean up the blood after he dragged her out. He told us that if anyone else had any ideas of leaving, he'd do the same to us."

  Willow lifted her head and stared into my eyes. "Please, just follow the rules. Watching that was worse than anything he's done to us."

  My body shuddered, and I shut my eyes and tried to figure out how I'd ended up in this waking nightmare. Maybe I was dreaming? Footsteps approached the door. I stared back over at Willow and Raquel. "Is that him?"

  "Yep. Just do what we told you and be quiet," Raquel said.

  They both sat cross-legged on their cot and plastered smiles on their faces. I sat up on my cot and did the same. I didn't know how I was going to survive this, but I would. I had to. It couldn't end like this.

  11

  Detective Hirsch

  With a warrant for the Delta Hospital eating disorder clinic in hand, I entered the hospital with Martina. The eating disorder clinic was the one definitive thing we had connecting all three of the missing girls. The hospital was chilly compared to the air outside. I glanced up at the board to look at what floor the eating disorder clinic was on.

  "Looks like it's on the third floor." Martina then pressed the elevator button.

  "What do you think the likelihood is that our g
uy Jon still works here?" I asked.

  "Well, he's gone undetected this long. If he had no reason to leave, he could still be here. Or he could've moved on to prey on other women in another location. You never know. But we could use a lucky break," Martina said.

  "Isn't that the truth? We've gotten so many crackpot tips that I'm beginning to wonder if the press conference was a bad idea, or at least a mistake for mentioning the name Jordan Starr. It seems as if everybody knew a Jordan Starr, but nobody had any details on his whereabouts or an address. Nothing real, anyhow," I commented.

  We stepped into the elevator with a few other people. Presumably, patients or visitors since they were wearing street clothes. No hospital scrubs or white coats. Martina and I eyed one another and stayed quiet until we hit the third floor. The door pinged and opened. I exited, and Martina followed behind.

  In front of me was a waiting room with brown cloth chairs and a desk with presumably a receptionist or nurse. It looked like any other hospital floor. I turned to Martina. "You ready?"

  "I'm ready."

  This was one circumstance where being a private investigator would be a disadvantage. PIs didn't have the authority to demand employment records or that they be allowed to interview hospital staff. They could ask and hope to get lucky, but it was unlikely in a setting like a hospital. All they could do was check public records and hope somebody would talk to them outside the walls of their employer.

  I approached the counter. "Hello, my name is Detective Hirsch, and this is my associate, Martina Monroe. I'm here with a warrant to interview your staff as well as obtain a copy of your employment records." I handed the young woman a copy of the warrant.

  The young woman in rose-colored scrubs stared down at it with a perplexed expression on her face. "Let me get my manager," she said with hesitation in her voice.

  While she exited, I glanced over at Martina. "Now that woman can say she's had her first warrant served to her."