Harri sat on his bed and Jake stood in front of her.
“When I got in last night, I could tell someone had been in my room. That’s when I discovered it. It was in the bathtub.”
Jake didn’t say anything right away, but Harri could tell immediately that he was furious.
“Last night? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m not sure. Anyway,” Harri said quickly, without answering his question. “Someone came back and shredded all my clothes.”
Jake tilted his head, his face showing confusion.
“Shredded?" he asked.
“Come and take a look," she said.
She led him back to her bedroom and gestured to the closet. “Shredded.”
“Shredded to ribbons,” Jake said. “Do we want to report it?”
“We should report it. I’m clearly being targeted by someone. Were our names in the paper? When Atticus Menlo’s body was found?”
“I’m not sure,” Jake said as he pulled out his phone and made the phone call. “I’m calling Gavin French.”
Harri nodded and swore. She was going to have to get a whole new set of clothes, a massive irritation she did not need right now.
As Jake explained the situation to Gavin, Harri searched on her phone for the nearest mall. It happened to be in the neighborhood nearest the middle school Atticus went to.
"I found a place I can get some new clothes," she said when Jake got off the phone.
“Gavin is sending some uniforms out,” Jake said.
“They won’t find anything. The last time he left something behind he’d cleaned up all evidence of himself. He’s too good.”
“Sit down, Harri.”
She’d never heard this commanding tone in his voice directed at her. She sat down at the table and he sat across from her.
"I'm beginning to worry about your safety, Harri," Jake said.
"I'm a cop, remember," she said. "I know how to take care of myself. I have a gun."
Jake nodded. “I can’t work like this.”
Harri knew what he meant.
“I know,” she began. “I should have told you last night. It’s just that…”
“We have to be honest with each other, Harri. We can’t hold out on each other. That’s not going to work.”
Harri didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded.
“We should leave this place. Their security obviously needs help.”
“I don’t want to leave. This place feels like home,” Harri replied. “Anyway, it’s already been compromised, so what’s the point of going somewhere new?”
“Then we don’t leave computers or other sensitive materials around.”
Harri looked around her room. “We can’t let him push us out. We can’t show him he’s winning or getting to us.”
“I hear you, but I’m still concerned,” Jake said.
“These are just clothes. They can be replaced.”
“But you can’t be replaced,” Jake said.
He leaned forward and took both her hands in his.
“I will take every precaution,” Harri said.
Jake didn’t look convinced.
“I’m going to the mall to get new clothes and then off to find Thomas James. Like we spoke about.”
He threw up his hands. “What about the police?”
“Can’t you deal with them?” Harri asked.
She didn’t want to hear anything from Gavin. This was a perfect excuse for them to push her out of town.
“I didn’t find something of Lauren’s in the bathtub. You should stay here and talk to them first,” Jake said.
“This gives them more ammunition,” she said.
“Harri, this is madness. Stay and search for Thomas James online. The cops will be here in twenty minutes. They’ll take your statement and then we can go get you some new clothes.”
Harri shook her head. “I can drop you off at the car rental place. Let’s just follow the original plan.”
She didn’t know why that was so important to her, but it was.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “You can work on my computer in my room. Your laptop is evidence now. I’ll talk to Mack about better security in this place.”
Jake left her in his room and Harri launched herself into getting addresses for Thomas James.
Closer to half an hour later, two uniforms Harri didn’t recognize took down her and Jake’s statements. Harri was relieved that Gavin didn’t come to give her a new ration of shit.
After the uniforms cleared her room and took what little evidence there was, Harri and Jake finally left the Inn.
Harri dropped Jake off at the rental car place closest to the mall she was going to. To her surprise, the intruder had even shredded her underwear. That really pissed her off.
Whatever message the intruder was trying to send wasn’t working. If he thought she’d be scared off that easy, he was wrong. Instead, she believed more than ever that they were close. Close enough to scare the crap out of whoever was behind this. Behind Dan’s disappearance. Behind Lauren’s death.
22
Day 6 - Afternoon
Harri was not a shopper.
She hadn’t been inside a mall in close to a decade and most of the clothes she owned, she'd ordered online. If the clothes didn't fit, she would send them back. She didn’t like big crowds and having to try things on in strange little rooms where people had their fingers over everything grossed her out. But today, she had little choice.
The only store she knew that had decently priced clothes was Macy’s. She headed straight there, making a mental list of what she’d need, right down to underwear and socks. She figured she needed five of everything to get through another week. She’d start from the first layers to the outer layers and went in search of the lingerie department.
Harri was so thankful she’d left some of her favorite clothes back home in Los Angeles. None of the clothes she cared about had been damaged. If one of her sister’s sweaters had been shredded, she would have been heartbroken.
She filled her arms with everything she needed but couldn’t find a single salesperson to check her out. She’d circled around twice and found no one with a nametag.
This was the reason everyone shopped online now, she thought sourly. As she walked by the juniors’ section for the second time, a voice called out to her. She looked back and saw a man in his mid-40s with sandy blonde hair, a round face, and brown eyes that appeared kind.
“Were you asking me something?” she asked.
“I haven’t been able to find anybody who works here, have you?” he asked.
The guy was reading her mind.
“I was just thinking the same thing. I gotta tell you, there's a reason why I only ever shop online.”
“Me too, but I have my nephew coming to visit and I wanted to get him something nice,” he said.
He lifted a red cable-knit sweater.
“Do you think a fourteen-year-old boy would like something like this?” he asked.
Harri shrugged her shoulders.
“I honestly have no idea,” she said. “I have zero insight into what the kids are wearing these days.”
“Neither do I,” the man laughed. “Which is why I'm asking you, but I guess this is as good as any.”
“Sorry,” Harri said.
“Can I ask you one more question?”
“Sure,” Harri said as she finally caught sight of a salesperson.
“What do you think of these pants?” he asked.
He held up a pair of khakis with pleats in front.”
“Only preppies wear pleats,” Harri remarked.
“It’s not what all the kids are wearing?” he quipped back.
“Honestly, I doubt it,” Harri said.
“Really? Pleats aren’t in fashion?” he asked, a grin on his face.
“Not for a few decades,” Harri smiled back. “I finally found someone.” She pointed to the salesperson.
“Better get her b
efore she disappears,” he laughed. “Thanks for your help.”
Harri nodded good-bye and headed towards the salesperson while waving.
“Hi, there. Can I check out?”
The woman waved her over to an empty cash register and rang her up. Harri paid for her new clothes and got out of there as quickly as she could, knowing she would never step foot into another mall again for at least another decade.
Harri programmed her phone to the first address she’d found for Thomas James and drove straight there. It was a small purple ranch house with a brown lawn. She saw nothing in the yard to indicate a child lived there. She saw no cars in the drive but hoped someone would be home.
She walked to the front door and knocked. A woman with tight white curls answered the door.
“May I help you?” she asked.
“I hope so. I’m looking for Thomas James. He was a foster kid, and this was a prior address listed for him,” Harri said.
“I’m sorry. We only moved here about six weeks ago,” the lady said.
“Do you know the name of the previous owners?” Harri asked.
“I don’t – but I would think the realtor does. Let me get her number for you,” the woman said.
She closed the door on Harri and was only gone a few minutes. The door opened again, and the woman handed Harri a business card with the name Dolores Franz on it.
“I so appreciate this,” Harri said.
“I hope you find what you're looking for,” the woman said.
Harri nodded. “So do I.”
She called Dolores when she got back into the car. The woman didn’t pick up. The card listed Dolores Franz’s address as well and Harri headed straight for her office.
Harri smoothed her hair down as she entered the realtor’s office. She put on her best smile and stepped inside to find a middle-aged woman with bright red hair and lipstick to match sitting at the desk.
“I'm here to speak to Dolores Franz,” Harri said.
“That's me. What can I do for you?” she asked.
“I am looking for a family who lived at 279 Stepstone Lane?” Harri asked.
“Oh, honey,” Dolores Franz said. “I can’t possibly give out that kind of information. It’s against company policy. Client privacy, you understand.”
“How about if you give them a call and see if they’d be willing to speak with me? I’m looking for information on one of their foster kids,” Harri said.
“Well, that family doesn’t even live in town anymore,” Dolores said.
“You do have a phone number for them then?”
“Of course, I do,” she said.
“But you’re not going to share it with me, and you are also unwilling to call them?” Harri asked.
“What is this all about? I mean, who are you?” Dolores Franz demanded.
“I’m searching for a missing boy. He’s been gone for days now and, as I’m sure you can imagine, his parents are desperate to find him.”
“Oh, that’s awful,” the woman softened. “What does that have to do with this family?”
“Their foster kid is missing, too. He was friends with this boy. I need to find them both, and I have no idea where to look.”
“Well, why didn't you say that in the first place?” Dolores scolded. “Let me give her a call right now and see if she’d be willing to talk to you.”
“Thank you so very much, Dolores,” she said.
Dolores picked up the phone and dialed a number. She let it ring several times and then hung up again.
“I’m sorry, she's not answering. But what I could do is give her a call again and leave a message. What is your number dear, so I can give it to her? If she chooses to call you back?” Dolores asked.
“My number is 213-555-0555,” Harri said.
Dolores wrote it down. “And your name?”
Harri gave the woman her name but didn’t say she was with LAPD.
“Is that all?” she asked.
Harri nodded. This was as far as she would get with this woman.
“Thank you so much,” Harri said and left.
She hurried down the walk, stomach in knots. Thomas James was a cipher. Frustrated, she threw her bag into the passenger seat and sat down. She’d try Alan Prentiss’s parents next. They had to be home by now.
23
Day 6 - Afternoon
Harri parked her car in front of the Prentiss home and was happy to see both a BMW and a Lexus in the driveway. They had to be home. The Prentiss place was a stately two-story colonial with pretty green clapboard shutters on each window. The entire property looked straight out of a storybook.
Because she knew their son was an addict, had been living on the streets, and was now likely missing, possibly the prey of a pedophile ring, looking at the cheerful homemade Harri’s heart skip a beat. She walked up to the door and knocked. A blond-haired woman in her 50s appeared in the doorway. She frowned when she saw Harri.
“May I help you?” she asked.
“I'm here about your son Alan Prentiss,” Harri said.
The mother's shoulders tensed.
“Have you found his body?” she asked.
“Mrs. Prentiss may I come inside and speak with you?” Harri asked.
“And who are you?” she asked.
“I'm a family friend of Tim Ledeyen. I'm not sure if you've heard, but his son Dan Ledeyen has gone missing. I’m a detective from Los Angeles helping to find him. Tim gave me Alan’s name as one of Dan's closest friends,” she said.
The woman's mouth formed a thin line. She didn't say a word. Mrs. Prentiss stepped out of the doorway and gestured for Harri to come inside.
“Not sure how I can help. Dan and Alan haven't been friends for a while and we have no contact with Alan,” she said.
Harri bit her lip at that. She’d worried that might be the case and wasn't sure if she should share with his parents that Alan might have gone missing, as well.
“Any information you can provide could help me in my search. I'm not sure if I should tell you this, but I've had a difficult time tracking Alan down.”
Mrs. Prentiss guided her to a living room awash in pastels. The sofas were upholstered in silk and the pale pink-flowered wallpaper shimmered in the late afternoon sun. The feminine room was incredibly formal.
“Alan can usually be found around the Cochran Youth Shelter downtown. He’s been living on the streets for the last year.” Mrs. Prentiss spoke stiffly with the demeanor of a defeated, but stoic woman.
“That’s where I’ve looked for him. None of his friends have seen him, either.”
“So, you think that Alan and Dan might be together?” Mrs. Prentiss asked.
“Yes.”
“If that's the case, then I'm very sorry for Tim and Molly,” Mrs. Prentiss said. “Molly told me Dan was out of rehab and it was sticking this time. If he's hanging out with my son, he's using again.”
“Do you remember the last time you saw Dan or your son?” Harri asked.
“I haven't seen Dan in at least six months. Alan came around here about three weeks ago. He promised he was clean, but of course, after being here for a night, cash was missing from my wallet again.”
Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “I never learn, but he is, after all, my son,” she said.
“Do you have any idea where Alan was staying prior to coming to see you?” Harri asked.
“On the streets around that shelter,” Ms. Prentiss said. “When his father first kicked him out of the house, I took to driving the downtown area at night looking for him. Trying to make sure he'd be okay.”
“And did you find him down there?” Harri asked.
“Yes. Several times.”
Harri wasn't sure how Mrs. Prentiss would take the next question. There was no easy way to ask it. She plunged in.
“How did your son get money for drugs?” Harry asked in a soft voice.
“He and Dan were breaking into cars,” Mrs. Prentiss sighed and dabbed her eyes with
the back of her hand. “From what Alan told me they were bringing in enough to support their habits. Then after Dan went into rehab this last time, Alan couldn’t keep it going. It seemed to me that Alan was lost without Dan. I can only imagine what he had to do for money. But he refused to get help, so my husband refused to allow him to come home,” she said.
Mrs. Prentiss’ expression was one of weariness. The pain of having a son with such a demon on his back was hard to witness. A cellphone rang from somewhere inside a bag. Mrs. Prentiss reached for her purse.
“Excuse me, I've been waiting for my husband to call,” she explained as she rummaged through her bag for the ringing phone. When she pulled it out, she frowned.
“My God, it's the police,” she said as she answered the call.
Harri watched as the woman listened to the caller on the other line.
Mrs. Prentiss paled, and she sank deeper into the sofa with her hand over her mouth. The look of shock was so complete that Harri knew something terrible had happened to Alan. Mrs. Prentiss hung up the phone and focused back on Harri, her eyes wide and uncomprehending.
“They found Alan?” Harri asked.
“About four hours ago. They said they’re sending someone out and wanted to warn me about the media. They said whatever I do, don’t talk to the media.”
Harri’s heart sank. If the police were on their way, she’d better leave.
“Alan was found in the woods. Like that poor Atticus boy.”
Harri fought the urge to get up and run out of the house. The cases were converging, as she knew they would. She had to leave before the cops arrived.
“What can I do for you, Mrs. Prentiss?” Harri asked.
Her stomach twisted in pain, but she had to do what she could for this poor woman who’d just heard that her son had been murdered and his body dumped in the woods.
Her heart thumped as she waited for the woman to respond.
“I have to call my husband. I have to call my husband and tell him,” she said.
“I’ll stay with you until he gets here,” Harri said.
Mrs. Prentiss was so pale Harri worried the woman might pass out.
The Hidden Grave (Harriet Harper Thriller Book 2) Page 13