by Alex Barclay
‘Absolutely.’
‘You work for,’ she checked her notes, ‘MeesterBrandt Pharmaceuticals.’
‘Yes,’ said Mark. ‘I’m the CFO.’
A flicker of something crossed his face.
Annoyance?
‘How long have you worked with them?’
‘Since 1989.’
‘And what do you do there exactly?’ said Ren.
‘I’m head of the Finance and Administration Department.’
‘And how are the finances of MeesterBrandt?’
Mark Whaley gave a wry smile. ‘Well, have you heard of the drug Ellerol?’
‘It’s new, isn’t it?’ said Ren. ‘I’ve seen the TV commercials.’
Eighteen seconds of dazzlingly positive effects, and twenty-two seconds of rapid-fire side-effect warnings. Guarantee: no guarantees.
‘It’s been on the market one year,’ said Mark. ‘And it’s already one of the top five revenue-producing drugs in the country.’
‘But … it’s an antipsychotic,’ said Ren. ‘In the top five?’
‘All of the top five are antipsychotics,’ said Mark.
Oh. My. God.
He looked like he had shocked people before with this information.
‘So,’ said Mark. ‘You can understand that success on that scale would create a lot of work.’
And misery, clearly.
‘And, obviously, it’s not our only drug,’ said Mark.
Ren nodded. ‘Are you happy at MeesterBrandt?’
‘Yes,’ said Mark. ‘Why are you asking these things?’
Ren didn’t reply. She stared.
‘I’m sorry if I’m sounding a little short,’ said Mark. ‘I just don’t see how this is relevant.’
‘I understand that,’ said Ren. ‘You want to get out there, you want to find your daughter. But I’m not wasting your time. Like I said, the more we know—’
There was a knock on the door, and Bob Gage leaned his head in. Ren followed him outside.
‘Beating a confession out of him?’ said Bob.
‘Only a matter of time,’ said Ren.
‘The ex-wife is outside,’ said Bob. ‘Laurie’s mother – Cathy Merritt. She was going crazy at security. I told them to let her through.’
‘We’ll take him out to meet her,’ said Ren. ‘Let the magic happen.’
‘You’re a twisted one,’ said Bob.
‘This could be a ransom situation,’ said Ren. ‘MeesterBrandt’s worth big bucks. Then – would they choose the CFO’s kid over the CEO’s?’
‘Does the CEO have kids?’ said Bob.
‘We shall find out,’ said Ren. ‘Did you know that the top five drugs in our fair land are antipsychotics?’
‘What?’ said Bob. ‘There are that many psychos out there?’
‘Keeping us in a job,’ said Ren.
‘We just need them to stop taking their meds,’ said Bob.
10
As Bob and Ren walked with Mark Whaley into the reception area, Cathy Merritt burst through the door from the foyer. She was a round, heavy-set woman with thick black hair that was still dotted with snowflakes. She had a full face and cheeks that were beaming their high color through a thick layer of foundation. She was dressed in a low-cut green velvet dress that had shunted her large breasts down to her waist and left a pale, flat expanse of chest behind. Her legs were plump, and covered in black panty-hose. Her feet were squeezed into a pair of black shiny Mary Janes.
Bob and Ren exchanged ‘nutjob’ glances.
Cathy Merritt lunged for Mark, slapping him hard on the chest and pushing against him. Despite her bulk, he didn’t move.
‘I knew it,’ she screamed. ‘I knew it. What have you done? That judge! What have you done to Laurie? I heard this from a hotel receptionist!’ she said. ‘That’s how I heard my daughter had gone missing. I tried your cell, I tried Laurie’s, I got nothing, I called the hotel, and they told me all hell has broken loose, a child has gone missing. My child! That’s how I hear it! What have you done to her?’
‘What have I done to her?’ said Mark. ‘Are you insane? Nothing! We came back from dinner … she was gone. I had checked on her!’
‘You went for dinner?’ said Cathy. ‘You left her in the room alone?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Mark. ‘She was not alone. Leo was there. And we had a sitter.’
‘Oh, you left her with a three-year-old and a stranger!’ said Cathy. ‘Well, then!’
‘As if you’ve never left her with a sitter,’ said Mark.
‘Sitters I know!’ said Cathy. ‘Not strangers. Who was this person?’
‘She works for the hotel. She’s a high school student …’
‘Why were you even getting a sitter?’ said Cathy. ‘You were taking Laurie away for the first time in years!’
‘I … I … we watched a movie together, she was going to bed in a little while … I didn’t think going to dinner … we’re in Breck, for crying out loud, it’s not like we’re in a war zone. We were going downstairs for a couple of hours. We could just as easily have been doing that at home.’
‘So, strangers can just walk in and out of your house, no problem?’ said Cathy. ‘And was it a couple of hours? Really?’ She pushed him again. ‘You know what? On the drive here, I’m thinking “once a worthless piece of shit, always a worthless piece of shit”. You haven’t changed one bit.’
She turned to Bob and Ren, and stabbed a finger at them, then at her ex-husband. ‘Watch this guy,’ she said. ‘He is a liar, an alcoholic, and …’ she turned to Mark, ‘you’re a loser!’ Her eyes darted back to Bob to Ren. ‘A loser. Save yourself the time it took me to figure that out.’
Erica Whaley appeared from the hallway where the rest rooms were. The female detective alongside her was reaching out to stop her from getting any closer to Cathy Merritt. But Erica shouted from where she stood, ‘Mark is not a liar. You don’t know him! You haven’t known him for years. He has a new life now.’
‘God help you,’ said Cathy. ‘You seem like a good person, Erica. And Laurie adores you, but … how, how can you be with this …’ She looked at Mark with years-long disgust.
‘He is a wonderful husband, and a wonderful father,’ said Erica.
Mark shook his head. ‘Don’t Erica …’
‘No,’ said Erica. ‘I can’t listen to this. I can’t, honey. And I’m not having the FBI, and the Sheriff, and everyone else listening to it either. From the day I met you, you have loved me, cared for me, provided for me and the children, not done one thing to hurt us. Not one thing.’ She turned to Cathy. ‘I’m sorry, Cathy, but he is not the man you married.’
‘Well, you know something?’ said Cathy. ‘I’m not the woman he married! Because he wore me down. Your wonderful husband nearly destroyed me and he nearly destroyed our daughter—’
‘Destroyed?’ said Mark.
‘We were driving around in the middle of the night dragging you out of dives. Laurie was only a baby!’ She turned to Erica. ‘There’s your wonderful husband! The man, hanging over the toilet bowl, after a night of hard drinking? Wetting the bed? There’s your wonderful husband!’
Who’d have thought?
Ren watched, mute, as the conversation unfolded. You nasty, nasty woman. Ren had pressed her elbow against Bob to keep him from intervening.
Wait for those wonderful things that are revealed in anger.
The door had opened behind Cathy Merritt, and Gary Dettling walked in with Robbie, Cliff and Colin. They stopped at ‘wetting the bed’.
Ren gave the briefest acknowledgment of their arrival, but quickly turned back to Cathy Merritt, whose voice was riding high on hysteria.
She was shouting, ‘Oh, puh-lease, the “people change” bullshit. Look where it’s gotten you. Seriously. Look!’ She poked a finger toward Ren and Bob. ‘What happened to my baby? I knew this was going to happen. I knew it.’
Mark snapped. ‘You knew this would happen? Don’t be ridiculous
! You knew this would happen? You’re trying to tell me you were so worried about tonight that you – what? Where were you tonight?’
‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’ said Cathy.
‘Just answer the question,’ said Mark.
‘We were at dinner, at home, with Jonathan,’ said Cathy. ‘So shoot me.’
‘And what?’ said Mark. ‘You were waiting by the phone the whole time for a call from the cops?’
‘Well, it would have been a damn sight better than hearing this from a desk clerk a hundred miles away …’ said Cathy.
‘Right,’ said Mark. ‘You thought your daughter would disappear, so you …’ he looked at her, ‘“dress up” …?’
‘What the hell?’ said Cathy. ‘I put on a dress and stay home for dinner and that means I wasn’t worried? You bet your ass I was worried. And, clearly, I had every reason to be.’
11
Gary Dettling stepped forward and introduced himself to Cathy Merritt.
‘Your daughter’s missing, Mrs Merritt,’ he said. ‘We need to focus on that.’
‘I want my husband,’ she said, trying to walk by him. A man stepped out of the corner. No-one had noticed him come in, even though he was well over six feet tall, and far from slim. He had thick, graying hair and a full beard. He went to his wife and put an arm around her shoulder.
‘I’m Dale Merritt,’ he said, shaking Gary’s hand. ‘Cathy’s husband. I’m sorry about all this.’
He glanced toward Cathy. She looked up at him, a small flash of anger in her eyes.
Gary nodded. ‘Let’s just take you somewhere to sit down.’
He guided the Merritts to one side.
‘Would it be possible to make a call to my son to let him know what’s going on?’ said Dale.
Gary nodded. ‘That’s not a problem. How old is your son?’
‘He’s sixteen,’ said Dale. ‘Joshua.’
‘And who is the Jonathan you mentioned?’ said Gary, turning to Cathy.
‘Jonathan Meester,’ she said. ‘He’s a friend of ours.’
‘The Meester in MeesterBrandt?’ said Gary.
Cathy nodded. ‘Yes.’ She paused. ‘Jonathan and Mark are college friends, but Jonathan stayed close to both of us after the split. He’s Laurie’s godfather.’
‘Is he still at your house with Joshua?’ said Gary.
‘Yes,’ said Dale.
‘He was kind enough to stay,’ said Cathy.
Gary nodded. ‘Excuse me for one moment.’ He walked over to Bob and Ren.
‘Bob, how you doing?’ said Gary.
‘Good,’ said Bob, shaking his hand. ‘Good to see you again. How are—’
‘Can we get someone to take the Merritts to a room?’ said Gary.
Bob nodded.
‘I’ve called in a CARD team,’ said Gary. ‘Our Child Abduction Rapid Deployment Team. We’ve got four members en route from Denver right now. They’ll be here within the hour. They’ll coordinate the search. We expect to do that first thing in the morning.’
Bob nodded again.
‘Are we taking over the same room as the last time?’ said Gary.
‘Yes,’ said Bob.
‘That’s great, thank you,’ said Gary, already walking past, and down the familiar hallway to the room that they would all squeeze in to for as long as it took.
Ren leaned in to Bob. ‘Gary has a form of Tourette’s. It’s, like, the involuntary vocalization of what he is going to do in an investigation.’ She paused. ‘All anyone else needs to do is not to succumb to regular Tourette’s in response …’
‘I hear you,’ said Bob.
‘Consider this an apology on his behalf.’
‘No need,’ said Bob. ‘Gary is … well, he’s a Fed …’
‘Textbook,’ said Ren.
‘You’re more … Facebook.’
‘I don’t know where you’re going with that,’ said Ren.
‘Nowhere, it just sounded kind of catchy. What next?’
‘I’m going to read through more of the guests’ statements, and then I’d like to talk to the stepmother. We can all go to the hotel, then back here for the press conference.’
Bob raised an eyebrow. ‘That Tourette’s is catching …’
Ren followed Bob into the small interview room where Erica Whaley had been taken. The furniture was the result of checks in boxes on the order forms of an office supply catalog. A long fluorescent strip light glared down on the cheap glossy veneer of the oval table. There was a strong smell of alcohol in the air. A young female detective stood up and left the room when Bob gave her the nod.
Erica Whaley sat at the end of the table with a glass of water in front of her. She was dressed in a heavy silk silver halter-neck that crossed over just under the neck. Ren could see gray pants legs and silver sandals. Her blonde hair was pinned up, but had fallen loose around her face. Her cheeks were red, the foundation washed away with tears and rubbed away with Kleenex, her mascara smudged under her eyes.
She looked up, blinking with panic … then hope. Ren had seen the reaction a thousand times, when a door opening took on an unimaginable significance.
You thought your night would end so differently.
Ren reached out her hand. ‘I’m Ren Bryce, I’m with the FBI; the Rocky Mountain Safe Streets Task Force in Denver. We’ll be working alongside the Sheriff’s Department on this.’
‘Thank God,’ said Erica, standing up, shaking Ren’s hand. She glanced at Bob. ‘I didn’t mean that the Sheriff’s Office isn’t …’ She trailed off.
‘The Sheriff’s Office knows Breckenridge and the surrounding area inside out,’ said Ren. ‘As you know, their officers are already out there looking for your daughter. My colleagues from Denver will be processing the scene, seeing if we can get any information from that, interviewing staff members and guests, looking at CCTV footage, we’ll canvass the town, carry out road-side canvasses. And Sheriff Gage here has already emailed Laurie’s photo to every law enforcement agency in the country, and to the media.’
Erica nodded at almost every word.
‘OK … OK … thank you,’ she said.
‘Let’s sit down, Mrs Whaley. I’ve read through the statement you gave to Undersheriff Delaney. I’d just like you to go through everything with me again.’
‘I mean, it’s a regular thing to do, going to a hotel, getting a sitter, you just don’t think twice,’ said Erica. ‘It’s a four-star resort, you don’t question it, which seems ridiculous now. We were only downstairs, like my husband said. It’s kind of like being at home, isn’t it? You leave your kids upstairs when you’re at home, don’t you? It’s all the one building, a hotel at least has security, or should have had security. Now, of course, I’m thinking “how many people work at the hotel?”, sure I guess most of them are good people, but who are all these people? Are they pedophiles, druggies, wife beaters? Are they psychopaths? Are their jobs just nothing to them, just what they do to make money to pay for child porn? Is the owner of this place a do-gooder, savior of mankind who employs ex-cons, or—? What if there’s a guy who never touched a child, but suddenly decides, well, hell, I’ll take these girls, I get caught, I get caught, I’ll go out on a high, I’ll give in to my sick fantasies …’
She didn’t draw breath. She didn’t pause. It was as if someone had popped the latch on the part of her brain that held her worst fears, and out jumped the demons …
12
Ren’s heart-rate shot up as she listened to Erica Whaley. She hadn’t taken a breath herself.
Do not take on these emotions. Step away from the panic.
‘Mrs Whaley, if we talk through the evening,’ said Ren, ‘we’ll be able to see things more clearly.’
‘The first we saw of the sitter was when she showed up at our room,’ said Erica.
‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘And—’
‘I can’t believe it,’ said Erica. ‘It’s like, “Hello, stranger, we know nothing about you. Here, why don’t
you look after the most precious things in the world to us, please take them, we’ll see you in a few hours, while we’re living it up down in the restaurant.”’
‘How did—’
‘I mean, these days stranger babysitters are just part of the hotel’s menu, right? Facials, massages, sitters …’
‘Mrs Whaley—’
‘I think she took her,’ said Erica. ‘I think she took her to order for some skanky druggie boyfriend she has, or for some … desperate woman who can’t have kids … or …’ She started shaking.
‘Mrs Whaley,’ said Ren. ‘All over the world, parents leave their children with hotel babysitters.’
‘Would you?’ said Erica. ‘Do you have kids?’
‘I don’t have kids,’ said Ren, ‘but I would have no problem leaving them with a hotel babysitter.’ And if you were listening very carefully, the word ‘hotel’ cracked with the broken cadence of doubt.
Erica Whaley had been listening carefully.
Shit.
Erica Whaley started to cry.
‘Mrs Whaley,’ said Ren. ‘Now is not the time to beat yourself up. Please don’t turn this in on yourself—’
‘I drank a whole bottle of champagne tonight,’ she said. ‘I started on a second. I know what that probably looks like to you …’
Erica Whaley gave her version of events and it matched her husband’s until it came to their time in the restaurant, when it turned hazy.
‘Mrs Whaley, a witness has said that you and your husband argued over dinner.’ The server saw. And he saw your tears when he delivered your champagne.
Her eyes went wide. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It was nothing. Just about his working hours. What woman doesn’t complain about her husband’s working hours?’
‘So, your husband spends a lot of time at the office?’ said Ren.
Erica nodded. ‘Yes – then locked away in the den at home.’
‘Can I confirm that you ordered the second bottle of champagne just before your husband left the table to check on the kids?’
‘Yes,’ said Erica.