The Silent Child Boxset

by Roger Hayden

  Knight paused and looked up, feeling all their eyes on him. He wished he could have told her something encouraging. “We're working on it, Ma'am,” he continued. “That's one of the reasons I'm calling. Do you or your husband know the name Chet Daniels?”

  A long pause, then: “Who?” she asked.

  “Chet Daniels. He works for Evans Brothers Painting. Were they ever employed by you or your husband?”

  Another pause followed, before she responded in a distracted tone. “I don't know who that is, but maybe Steve does. Steve! Can you come here a second?”

  They waited patiently as she eventually put him on the line.

  “This is Steve Riley,” he said. “You have a name for us?”

  “Chester Daniels,” Knight said. “Goes by Chet. He works or worked for Evans Brothers Painting. Are you familiar with that business? Have they ever done work on your house” He glanced up in time to see Marshall skeptically glance at Agent Garrett as though the entire phone call was a futile exercise.

  “I don't recognize the name,” Steve began, “but we have used Evans Brothers before.”

  Knight slammed the desk with his fist, unable to conceal his excitement. “When did you hire them, and what work did they do for you?”

  “Well...” Steve began, thinking. “They painted the front of our house about a month ago. Why?” He paused, seemingly realizing a connection. “Does this have any connection to my daughter's kidnapping?”

  “We're trying to find that out,” Knight quickly clarified.

  “Chet Daniels?” Steve asked, his tone intense, yet hopeful. “Is he a suspect?”

  Knight attempted to downplay the connection, lest they not deliver. “We don't know yet. But we'd like to show you a picture.”

  Captain Marshall approached the phone and spoke louder than he needed to. “Mr. Riley. Would it be at all possible for you to come to the station this morning? We have quite a bit to discuss.”

  “Yes, we can do that,” he responded with a slight hesitation. “Haven't gone to work since Sarah's disappearance. Why start today?” He held the phone away and coughed. “What time?”

  “As soon as you can,” the captain said. “And please bring Annette.”

  “Okay,” Steve said. “We'll be there soon.”

  Captain Marshall looked to Knight as the call ended. “Good work.”

  Knight, surprised by the comment, downplayed it with a small shrug and slipped his coat on. “Evans Brothers has an office downtown. Let's see what they can tell us.” He approached Slater's monitor where Daniels's file was on the screen. “Print that, please.”

  “Commencing print function,” Slater said with a tinge of sarcasm.

  Captain Marshall stood in the middle of the group with his arms crossed. “And what are you going to ask Mr. Daniels once you find him?”

  “We're going to ask him where he was Sunday evening, for starters,” Knight answered.

  Agent Garrett added, “Finding him is all that matters right now.”

  Slater glanced at her, surprised by the vote of confidence. Even the captain seemed to agree.

  He pointed at Knight. “Get a list of all former and current employees from the painting company. Leave no stone unturned.”

  “We're on it,” Knight said, grabbing the Daniels printout from a nearby desk. Slater put his coat on and prepared to leave. For that morning, at least, it seemed like they had a plan.

  “I want an update within the hour,” Marshall said, exiting the cubicle. He then beckoned Agent Garrett to follow, and they walked toward his office. Knight hadn't yet mentioned the letter to either of them. Part of him wanted to simply dismiss it as a prank and move on. With a potential suspect almost in their grasp, the lab would have to wait.

  Slater took one last drink from his coffee mug and then set it down. “You ready?”

  “Been ready,” Knight said. “Let's go.”

  They walked down the carpeted aisle between cubicles, office phones ringing and quiet conversation around them. They stopped at the hallway and turned around to see Agent Garrett conversing with Captain Marshall. For a moment, they weren't sure if she was going with them or staying. She turned to them with a wave and a wait-for-me finger in the air, hurrying toward them as Marshall returned to his office. She joined them, breathless. “Sorry for the hold up.”

  “Don't worry about it,” Knight said.

  They continued down the hall as Garrett continued. “There's a lot of pressure on him over these missing girls. The commissioner and the chief of police have been giving him hell.”

  The kidnappings had the town on edge. Parents were afraid to let their children leave their homes. By the second day, Brittany Owens's disappearance was known all over the news now. “Lock your doors and windows” was the mantra of the week. Knight understood the situation all too well.

  Agent Garrett zeroed in on Slater with veiled amusement. “Looks like we missed you yesterday.”

  Slater stepped back, studying her as he slowly unwrapped a piece of gum and stuck it in his mouth all at once. “Yes,” he said, chewing. “Some things came up. But I'm glad to be in your lovely presence once again.” He carefully folded up the gum wrapper and foil and placed them in his pocket.

  She then glanced at Knight and put on a happy face. Moving on. “Where to first, gentlemen?”

  “I figure that we confirm Mr. Daniels's employment with the Evans Brothers,” Knight said.

  They continued down the long hallway toward the lobby, passing police along the way. Knight glanced at his cell phone, feeling it vibrate. There was a message from Bonnie, reminding him that he left his lunch in the fridge. He had left in haste without even saying goodbye.

  “Why don't we just call them?” Slater said. “Save us a trip to downtown.”

  They had reached the lobby doors, and Knight didn’t slow down. “I want to know what kind of people they are hiring.”

  Slater opened the door for Agent Garrett. Knight stepped up beside her. He asked her how she slept.

  “Just fine,” she replied.

  Knight nodded. “Let's hope we can wrap this thing up soon. I'm nearing retirement.”

  “When's that?” she said, alarmed.

  Slater suddenly slapped him on the shoulder. “Twenty-seven days, right?”

  Garrett stared at him as she paused, looking for his car. “I'm surprised.”

  Knight stopped and then patted his leg. “Medical retirement. I wear a leg brace here. Back's all messed up, too. I was struck by a car some years ago.”

  “Son of a bitch tried to run him over and kill him,” Slater added. He looked at Knight with a smile. “But at least he gets a nice chunk of disability pay.”

  As they neared the parking lot, Slater asked who was driving. Knight and Garrett both volunteered in unison then looked at each other with embarrassed smiles.

  “It's your town,” Garrett said. “I've got a rental we could take though.”

  Knight shrugged. “It's up to you. I wouldn't mind saving the gas money.”

  Slater hurried past them, entering the parking lot. “I'll drive.”

  * * *

  The Oldsmobile rolled across the street toward Evans Brothers Painting & Drywall, a small office among many in the downtown business district. Upon entering the crowded parking lot, Knight scanned the area for Cadillacs. Agent Garrett sat up front with her arm resting on the open window. They found a space under a light post in the third long row. The gray, overcast sky had stayed consistent through the morning, sparing them from the otherwise normal summer heat. Slater turned off his ignition as exhaust from his faulty muffler floated down outside the car. The Evans Brothers office was on the corner of the plaza, beyond several other shops and businesses. Both the driver and passenger side doors swung open as Slater and Garrett exited the car. Knight crawled out the back of the two-door car once the seat was brought down.

  A cool breeze flowed through the parking lot, which gave Knight a sense of fresh clarity. The doors slam
med shut, and they walked through rows of parked vehicles, zeroing in on their destination. The office on the corner of the plaza had no sign. Its glass door entrance had an Open sign with the letters etched onto the door amid a logo for Evans Brothers Painting & Drywall.

  Knight told Agent Garrett that he'd like to do most of the talking. “I want to put the screws to this place, but not too tight.”

  “Careful now,” Slater said. “Our boy Chet could make a run for it. That is, if he even still works here.”

  “We're going to find out,” Knight added.

  They stopped a good ten feet from the store, waiting for a car to pass. The lights inside the Evans Brothers office were on. Knight could see a long counter beyond the glass manned by at least two employees, with shelves of paint buckets behind them. The door swung open and a man, tanned and muscled with a bandana around his head, hurried outside with a five-gallon bucket of paint in his hand. Slater caught the door before it closed and held it open for Knight and Agent Garrett.

  “Good man,” Knight said, following Garrett inside. They stepped across the glossy cement floor and toward the front counter. Posters adorned the walls, advertising various sales and deals. There was a Gumball machine in one corner next to a water cooler and a large potted plant on the other side with a line of leather waiting chairs.

  Knight approached the counter with Agent Garrett and Slater hovering behind him. A huddled group of employees were in the back, dressed in red collared shirts. A young man glanced up at them from behind the counter with big, curious eyes inspecting them from under the bill of his hat. His counterpart, a short, frumpy man with a black beard was busy on the phone.

  “How can I help you?” the associate said.

  “Yes,” Knight began, leaning against the counter. “We'd like to speak to your manager, please.”

  “Uh, okay...” the man said, hesitant. “What's this about?”

  “We're with the Melville County Police Department,” Knight said. “We just have some questions we'd like to ask.”

  The apprehensive associate soon left and went through a door at the opposite end of the counter. Slater stood near the front door as if watching it. Garrett scrolled through her cell phone. “Emails from headquarters coming in hot,” she remarked. “They want an update.”

  Knight told her that the Evans Brothers were about to be arrested. They laughed as the door opened and a man approached the counter. He was tall and broad-shouldered with dark, curly hair and glasses. He wore a red shirt like all the others but didn't appear to have a name tag. His brow raised upon nearing them. “Yes, how can I help you?” he asked with a hint of nervousness.

  “Are you the manager?” Knight asked.

  “Yes, I am,” he said, extending his hand. “Lloyd Evans. Pleased to meet you.”

  Knight showed his badge and then shook his hand. “I'm Detective Knight with the Melville Police Department, Criminal Investigations Unit. This is Agent Garrett with the FBI, and behind me is my partner, Detective Slater.”

  Kelly shook his hand as Slater simply nodded. “Yes...” Evans began. “Joey told me that the police were here. What can I do for you?”

  “Consider this a routine visit, Mr. Evans,” Knight began. He then paused and looked around. “Is your brother here as well?”

  “No,” Evans said with a chuckle. “Danny's out of town on business. But I'm sure whatever it is, I can assist just fine.”

  “We appreciate your cooperation,” Knight told him. “We're investigating a missing person’s case, and some names have come up that are associated with your business.”

  Evans nodded with an inquisitive expression. He leaned closer as the bearded associate on the phone next to him continued talking. Knight unfolded the Daniels printout and placed it on the counter. “We're looking for this man, Chet Daniels. Does he work for you?”

  Evans looked at the black and white picture below him, narrowing his eyes. “Yes. I know him. He's done jobs for us from time to time. Haven't see much of him lately though.” He paused and looked up at the detectives. “What's this all about?”

  Knight took the printout back and re-folded it. “I can't disclose too much right now, but his name has come up.”

  “We'd like to ask him some questions,” Agent Garrett added.

  Evans folded his hands across the counter. “Is there something we should be concerned about?”

  Knight asked, “How would you describe Mr. Daniels?”

  Evans thought to himself and then responded. “I never saw much of him on the job sites. He's a pretty good worker as far as I know.”

  Knight asked, “Is he working for you today?”

  “I'm not sure,” Evans said. “I don't think so.” He then reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “I can call George, my foreman, and see. They're at a job right now.”

  “Please do,” Knight said.

  Evans hit the pre-programmed number and held the phone to his ear. “Hey, George,” he said. “I'm wondering if you've seen Chet today. Chet Daniels...” Evans paused and listened. He then lowered the phone and looked at Knight. “He's not there. George says they haven't seen him in about a week.”

  Knight and Agent Garrett glanced at each other, disappointed. Chet Daniels was beginning to look like more of a possible suspect. Evans thanked him and ended their call, reminding the foreman to contact him if Daniels showed up.

  Agent Garrett leaned closer, seemingly taking over. “We'd like to verify the address we have with what you have on file.”

  “Sure,” Evans said, though Garrett wasn’t finished yet with her requests.

  “We'd also like a list of all current and former employees from the past four months. There are two families who hired your company. I'd like to know who was on those teams, names, phone numbers, and home addresses.”

  Evans just stood there with a blank face as though he didn't know what to make of her request. “That could take some time,” he began, hesitant. “Maybe that’s not even legal. Just saying . . .”

  Agent Garrett showed no signs of backing down, just said pleasantly, “It would be most appreciated.”

  “It's important to our case,” Knight added.

  “I suppose I can get some of the team on that,” Evans said, reluctant. “Has Chet done something wrong?”

  “We're not sure yet,” Knight said. “But until we speak with Mr. Daniels, there is nothing we can disclose.”

  He gave them the address of the two houses as Evans shuffled in the back where his employees had convened. He spoke to them and they soon dispersed, presumably to get the files needed.

  Agent Garrett cut in. “We need to get to Daniels before someone tips him off.” Her eyes followed Evans as he walked into his office in the back and closed the door. “Even if it's done inadvertently, the slightest comment could have him covering up his tracks.”

  “Then go,” Slater said, leaning on the counter.

  Knight and Garrett looked at him curiously until he elaborated. “I'll stay here and wait for the files. You two can go find him.”

  “You don't mind staying?” Knight asked.

  “Not at all,” Slater said, pointing at the chairs in the lobby. He then walked past them and took a seat.

  “But you drove us here,” Knight said.

  Slater fished out his car keys and tossed them to Knight without another word. Knight looked at Agent Garrett. “Ready to hit the road?”

  “I suppose so.”

  They walked toward the exit and waved to Slater on their way out. Knight opened the door, holding it for Garrett as cars slowly drove past them. Sunlight hit his face as they emerged from the shaded plaza walkway. Their destination wasn't far. According his recollection, it was only a few miles away in the mobile home division off Saxton Avenue. Knight knew the place. One of Bonnie's friends used to live there. If Daniels was home as they hoped, their investigation just got more interesting.

  7

  Pursuit

  Palm Landings
was a mobile community on the outskirts of town. It had once been a premier location for retirees who relished the rural surroundings it offered. Over time, however, it had become run down and full of crime. The dozens of mobile homes and campers that filled its grounds were largely concealed by the surrounding forest.

  Detective Knight drove Slater's Oldsmobile down a bumpy dirt road, through the entrance gate which was open, with a No Trespassing sign hanging over the chain-link fence. Agent Garrett sat in the passenger seat, looking ahead with her sunglasses on. She hadn't said much during the drive but made a phone call to headquarters, telling them that they were making progress on the investigation.

  Once through the gate, they veered right and followed the curve, passing beneath moss-hung trees that shaded everything underneath. Each trailer had a vehicle or two in the car port or patch of land that acted as a port. There were a few people outside, sitting listlessly in the front yards. A mother was playing with her two children, running from them with a doll in her arms. The Oldsmobile received a few curious glances as it passed by. This was not a place where people went out for Sunday drives.

  “You think this Daniels guy is the one?” Knight asked, glancing over but keeping his hands on the wheel.

  “Don't know,” Garrett said. “Only one way to find out.”

  Knight felt a lump in his throat. He hadn't really let himself consider that either girl could be deceased, but maybe they were getting close to knowing.

  “How do you want to do this?” he asked Garrett as they neared the trailers with addresses in the 700s on both sides of the road. One man looked up from the engine of his open hood, staring at them and eventually looking away. Garrett rolled up her window then spoke. “Go to the front door and knock. I’ll stand near the car port and watch the back.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Knight said, slowing down. There was a trailer ahead obscured by a large oak tree. In the shade of the covered car port was a pick-up truck with a large dent in its side. The house number was 735. Knight felt a sliver of disappointment. He had been hoping to find a 1980s model Cadillac and piece everything together from there. Perhaps it would turn up soon anyway.