“We can’t really call it a break-in when we have no forced entry. But that’s another good question. The investigators are still checking.”
A mass of confusion covered Sawyer’s face. “Are you telling me you think whoever did this brought Amanda back to the house?” His brows rose. “If this is all true, where is her car?”
“All very good questions. We’re not ruling anything out right now.” Zach watched him out of the corner of his eye, wondering what was going through his mind from the questions he’d asked. But Sawyer was good at beating others at their own game.
“Do you know of anyone who would want to harm your wife?” Jessie asked.
“No. I don’t. I’m having a difficult time trying to process this.” He sat and stared out in a daze. “Amanda was such a loving and caring woman,” his voice cracked. “I can’t imagine anyone trying to hurt her.”
Zach paused for a moment. “Mr. Sawyer. You just said was. That would indicate past tense. Is there something you want to tell us?”
“Oh, for chrissake. It was a figure of speech.” He shook his head. “I’d like to see photos of my home . . . or the crime scene, as you call it.”
“Okay.” Jessie pulled the photos out of the file and fanned them down on the table. He picked each one up and shook his head in bewilderment. “I can’t believe the mess my house is in.”
“Do you remember what the kitchen looked like when you left?”
“It was spotless. Amanda is a compulsive cleaner. She never leaves a thing out of place.”
“That’s what your in-laws said.”
“Well, at least that’s one thing we agree on.”
“Don’t you get along with the Milligans?” Zach asked.
“They’re okay.”
“Have you ever had words with them, Mr. Sawyer?”
“No,” his voice increased in volume, clearly annoyed by the question.
“Have they done something to make you dislike them?”
“Amanda and her parents are very close, so she listens to them more than she does me.”
Jessie stood behind Sawyer and flashed two fingers in the air. Zach nodded in agreement that it was a second motive. He continued to watch Sawyer’s body language. He was clearly agitated.
“Sounds like a power struggle going on,” Jessie’s brows furrowed and she studied him more closely. “That must have been a bone of contention in your marriage, Mr. Sawyer.”
“Detectives, I find your behavior degrading and mean-spirited. Is this how Harwell told you to treat me?”
“It’s amazing to me that you would try to shift the blame here, Mr. Sawyer. What I’m finding so interesting is that you don’t seem to be taking any of this very seriously.” Jessie smirked. “Why is that?”
“Because I think you’re going to find Amanda, and this is all for naught. As for the house being broken into, or whatever you’re calling it, I’d better call my insurance company. We have a lot of money invested in that house. Or should I wait for you to finish your investigation?”
“With all due respect, Mr. Sawyer, this seems to be the only thing you’re concerned about.” Jessie shot back.
“That’s absolutely absurd. I’m plenty concerned, but I think you’re spinning your wheels, and wasting taxpayer money on an investigation for a woman who’s on vacation with her friends. My house may have been broken into, but I still can’t believe you’re taking the word of a known drug addict. Sara has to be the most unreliable person on the planet, especially when she’s higher than a kite. Amanda probably left Sara behind on purpose, and now it seems her parents are falling right into her trap again.”
“No. Not this time,” Jessie said. “She was an addict, but she’s cleaned herself up.”
“For how long?” he smirked.
“Mr. Sawyer, we’re not here to defend or discuss the plausibility of Sara’s sobriety. Do you have a key hidden outside somewhere in case you forget yours?” Zach inquired.
“Yes. But no one would be able to find it unless they knew where to look.”
“Do you have a cleaning service?” Jessie asked.
“Yes. We have a woman who comes in, but what does that have to do with it?”
“Does she have a key to your house?”
He crossed his arms abruptly. “No. Amanda and I had a conversation about this, and I told her absolutely not. Of course, that’s not to say she didn’t give it to the woman behind my back. As I mentioned earlier, Amanda has a mind of her own.”
“What is your cleaning woman’s name and address?”
“Rosarita Alvarez. I don’t know where she lives, but if you’ll let me into my house, I can look it up in our personal phone directory.”
“I’ve already told you there’s no entry into your home until our investigation is complete. I’ll let you know when that is. Tell us where to look for the directory and we’ll have one of our investigators get the number.”
“Amanda kept it in the middle drawer of the desk in the kitchen.”
“Okay, we’ll check there.” Jessie jotted down the information. “Tell me, Mr. Sawyer. Do you have a life insurance policy on your wife? A prenuptial agreement?”
“What?” Sawyer’s expression darkened. “You people are unbelievable.”
“We’re doing our job, sir. Just like you would in your—”
He interrupted her. “You said my in-laws filed a Missing Persons.”
“Yes, they did.”
“Why didn’t they call me?”
“They did try to reach you, Mr. Sawyer by using the same numbers we had.”
Patrick Sawyer’s expression turned to a mask of stone. “They could have contacted me through my secretary at the dealership.”
“Nope. I’m afraid not. Been there, done that . . . and so did we. She gave us the same information she told your in-laws; you were on a cruise and unreachable. Why would she tell us that?”
Sawyer lowered his head into his hands. “Christ. First off, the girl is new. Look, I get so many damn phone calls when I’m out of the office from employees to customers. I’ve told my secretary, outside of death, I do not want to be disturbed.”
“But we told her it was an emergency. Did you call in to check messages?”
“No. I did not.”
“Wouldn’t you think she’d be smart enough to inform you the police wanted to speak to you?”
“Now that’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question, isn’t it? Do you have any idea how hard it is to find good help these days? I guess I just wasn’t clear enough in my instructions.”
“Did she have the new cell phone number? Or did you toss it before you gave her the new number?”
“I can’t remember. I—I guess I thought I gave it to her.” He blew out a breath.
“So let me get this straight,” Zach said. “Every time you’re away, you purchase a new phone?”
“Yes. I purchase disposable phones.”
“Are all your phones disposable; even the one you use when you’re not on vacation?”
“That’s exactly what I do.”
“How do the people who matter get in touch with you?”
“They call my main number at the shop.”
“What shop is that, Mr. Sawyer?” Zach continued.
“The dealership.” He lowered his voice; his expression was a picture of confusion. “What other shop would there be?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Sawyer. You tell me.”
“I don’t have the money for more than one dealership.” He shook his head again. “This economy is killing me.”
Jessie locked her eyes on her partner’s. They knew each other so well, reading the other’s expressions was an easy task. She smiled at him, and he nodded to let her know he understood.
“Sir, there’s just one more question we have for today.”
“What’s that?”
“Why don’t you have any family pictures in your home?”
Sawyer shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess w
e’re just not photogenic.”
“Do you have a photograph of your wife in your office?”
“No. There are a lot of strangers who prance in and out of my office. Having photographs of my family for everyone to see is too risky.”
“While that may be true, not having any hasn’t made your family any safer. Especially your wife.” Sawyer shrugged. “How about your daughter, Mr. Sawyer. Do you have a picture of her in your wallet?”
Sawyer reached into his back pocket and pulled his wallet out and instantly produced a photo of his daughter Gabrielle. “I always have pictures of my little girl.”
“Why her and not your wife?” Jessie’s chest tightened. “Don’t you love your wife as much as your daughter?” She knew the answer to that question.
“I think it’s pretty obvious that I love my wife and my daughter differently.” He checked his watch. “I have to get back. Are we done here?”
“Sir, we’re talking about your missing wife here. We’re talking about your house being ransacked, and you’re anxious to get out of here?”
Sawyer released a heavy breath. “Don’t you dare try to do this to me. I’m very concerned about my wife and her safety. You haven’t told me anything about her so-called disappearance, or what you’ve done so far.”
“Actually, Mr. Sawyer,” Zach said. “We don’t have much to go on here. That’s why we asked you to come in and answer some questions, but you haven’t told us much of anything that we don’t already know.”
“Mr. Sawyer,” Jessie asked, “what kind of car do you drive?”
“I drive a Maybach.”
“How long have you had that vehicle?”
“A few weeks.”
“What did you drive prior to that?”
“I drove a Mercedes ML550.”
“That’s an SUV, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“And what color was that car?”
“Black.” Sawyer’s brows knitted together. “Why do you ask?”
“How long have you had the Maybach?”
“I just told you. A few weeks, and before that, I drove an SUV, and before that I drove a Mercedes sedan S-Class.” He raised his palms in the air. “I have a dealership Detectives, I can drive a different car every day if I want.”
“One last thing before we end this session, Mr. Sawyer.” Jessie pulled the sketch from her folder and held it up for him to see. “Sir, do you recognize the person in this sketch?”
Sawyer focused on the face. He held it in the distance, and placed it down on the table. “Is this supposed to be my wife?”
“Well, your sister-in-law seems to think it’s your wife.”
He rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing about this sketch that resembles my wife. Sara must be smoking something if she thinks this is Amanda.”
“Mrs. Milligan thought the same thing.” Jessie said.
“Did she? And how about Charles?” Sawyer’s tone edged on the side of sarcasm. “Did he think so too?”
“He thought it resembled Amanda, but wasn’t convinced.”
“Where can we get a photograph of your wife, Mr. Sawyer?”
“I’m sure her parents have one. They seem to have everything else. But there’s got to be an album somewhere in my house.” He eyed the drawing again. “Who is this woman, anyway?”
“It was actually a sketch of someone else, and when Sara saw it posted throughout the Borough, she called the precinct and stopped here to discuss it.”
“And you believed her?” Sawyer asked.
“We have nothing else to go on, so for now, until we see your wife, we have to assume Sara is correct.”
“Is this woman also missing?” his finger snapped against the paper.
“We can’t discuss an ongoing investigation with you, Mr. Sawyer.”
He stood to leave. “I trust you’ll keep me apprised of your findings.”
“Mr. Sawyer,” Jessie said. “Can you elaborate about the fire at your house.”
Sawyer frowned. “What fire is that?”
“The fire that burned your wife’s face.”
“Christ. I can’t believe I forgot about that fire. Yes. I was on my way home from the dealership. Gabi had stayed overnight at her friend’s because Amanda hadn’t been feeling well.” He shook his head. “Thank God one of the neighbors saw the flames and called the fire department because Amanda was in a deep sleep and didn’t even realize what was happening until the firemen got there. She was trapped and screaming. I was shocked when I drove down our street and saw trucks lined up in front of my house. I panicked until I saw Amanda sitting on a gurney.”
17
“Mr. Sawyer, do not leave the city.” Jessie cautioned when she escorted him toward the door.
“And, where is it you think I’m going?”
“I have no idea, Mr. Sawyer.”
He gave the bar on the door a hard push and exited.
Zach approached from behind and startled her—she wasn’t expecting him. “The Lieutenant wants to see us.”
“Did he watch the rest of the questioning?”
“Apparently.”
Harwell was in the process of taking a huge bite of a jelly donut when they entered. His mouth was covered in white powder. For a brief second, Zach felt a tinge of jealousy wondering if Jessie would wipe the powder off Harwell’s mouth the way she’d done his a few days ago. Instead, she turned her attention to her partner and smiled, obviously sensing he was watching her.
Harwell placed the unfinished donut down on the top of his desk and rubbed his mouth with a napkin. “You both worked him over real good,” he said with his mouth full.
“He’s one shrewd son-of-a-bitch,” Gerard said wryly.
Jessie nodded. “He is Gerard, but his arrogance couldn’t mask his frustration and lies. What did you think, Lieutenant?”
“He’s had a lot of practice. But there’s no doubt in my mind, this bastard is guilty as hell. I think we have more than enough motive, just not the proof. But we’ll catch this bastard one way or another. I’d bet my monthly salary on one of our guys being on the take and feeding Sawyer all the information he wants. When I find out who it is, he’ll wish he’d never been born. It may take a little longer than we’d hoped, but the evidence is out there. Now that he thinks we’re on to him, it’ll be interesting to see what he does next. Let’s put a tail on him.”
“And I’m betting the farm on his involvement in a money laundering scheme?” Zach turned to walk out of the room and stopped mid-way. “I spoke to the prosecutor earlier and requested a warrant for a Forensic Accountant to check Sawyer’s books at the dealership and his personal accounts. Santini and Paige are checking on the wife’s life insurance policy. His mention of the economy killing him put one more nail in his coffin. I know he’s involved with the chop shop somehow, and I think that’s where the accountant will be a big help.” Harwell paused. “And I swear to God, if Jackson is the cop Sawyer has in his pocket, I’ll bring that bastard down to his knees.”
“I wonder how Lenny fits into all of this?” Jessie said, distracted by Zach’s voice on a call to the lab.
The lieutenant shrugged. “There could be a million reasons why Lenny’s dead, and a million people who wanted to kill him. He had a lot of enemies out there.”
“Okay, let’s call Tony; tell him we need to see him now,” Jessie said.
“Yeah, this is the last time. No holding back or his ass is in jail.”
Jessie dialed the number. His voicemail played. “Tony, Detective Kensington here. Gerard and I are on our way over to see you. We can do this one of two ways. We can come into the warehouse, or we can wait for you in the alley behind the building.” She snapped her phone shut and shook her head from side to side. “He’s not answering his cell.”
“Call his house phone, Jess. Let him know we’re on our way.”
She checked the file and keyed in the phone number. “Okay, something’s rotten in Denmark. There’s no answer at
the house either. What do you want to do?”
“Go over to his house.”
Jessie looked at her partner. “Are you thinking the same thing I am?”
“I’m afraid so, Jess.”
Jessie vaguely remembered Tony and his family lived in an apartment over top of a restaurant on Mulberry Street, in New York’s Little Italy. Driving slowly down the road, she pointed out the address. “Here’s 127 Mulberry.”
“How convenient that Tony lives close to Central Booking.” He chuckled. “I’ll park in the lot and we’ll walk back.” Zach found a space and they exited the car working their way back toward the restaurant. “Damn, that Italian food is making me hungry. It feels like I haven’t eaten in weeks,” Zach said.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
“Good, so we’ll come here for dinner tonight.”
“Zach,” she warned, “focus on Tony.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said with a salute.
“I’ll take the fire escape, you take the stairs. I don’t want this weasel going out the window when he sees you at the door.”
“Yep, I’m on it.” Jessie pulled the door open and the smell of Italian sauce hit her in the face. She inhaled deeply and tried to push the aroma away from her senses, but the growling of her stomach had other ideas. She took the stairs two at a time to the apartment door and rang the bell. There was no answer. Checking the door, she suddenly noticed it was slightly ajar. Jessie gave a push and entered. The apartment was bare; no furniture, no residents, no nothing. Just as she turned around to leave, Zach opened the bottom door and stood with his hands on his hips.
“Do you believe this?”
“I guess he wasn’t kidding when he said he was scared.” Zach pounded the wall with his fist. “We’re never going to solve this friggin’ case.”
She raised her brows and pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the precinct. “Detective Kensington here, badge number 107, I need an APB out on Tony Ricci . . .”
18
“Dammit!” Zach said on their way back to the vehicle. “No Lenny, no Tony and I’ll bet Vito’s trailing close behind,” He released a frustrated breath. “I’m stopping at the drive-through for a burger,” he bellowed. “I’m starving.”
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