She Was at Risk

by P. D. Workman

  “Is Forest around?” he asked cheerfully. “He said one o’clock.” Zachary pulled out his phone and looked at it pointedly. “He said he was going to be here. Have you seen him around today?”

  The man started to pull back from the door, not wanting to be pulled into a conversation. He shook his head, backing up and preparing to close the door.

  “He didn’t leave, did he?” Zachary pressed. “I know he was thinking about moving, but he didn’t yet, right? I mean, I got the right apartment, didn’t I?”

  The wild-haired man’s eyes went back and forth. He shook his head again. “He didn’t move. I haven’t seen him since last night.”

  “He was here last night?” Zachary hammered on the door again. “What, is he hung over?”

  “He went out. I didn’t see or hear him come back.” The neighbor hesitated, his hand still on the door to make a quick retreat. “He had a bag with him. I thought maybe… he was going away for the weekend.”

  Zachary’s heart sank. He’d run. McLachlan had run. He swore aloud. “Where did he go? Did he say where he was headed? He wasn’t going back to Minnesota to see his family, was he? I’m really screwed if he’s gone all the way back home.”

  “He didn’t tell me where he was going. I don’t know him. He had a bag, that’s all I know. It looked like he was going somewhere.”

  “You don’t know him?” Zachary pressed. “He was a good guy, you never went for drinks? Picked up each other’s mail? I thought he was a pretty good neighbor.”

  “He was okay,” the man said, holding his hand up to stop Zachary. “I just didn’t know him very well. We didn’t talk a lot. Just said hello in the hallways. I don’t know anything about his family or where he might have been going.”

  “Well, if you see him, would you let him know I was by?” Zachary didn’t use one of his business cards, but tore a sheet out of his notepad and wrote his name and phone number on it. “I was really hoping to talk to him today. If he shows up… would you…?”

  “Why don’t you call him?” the man asked suspiciously.

  “I have. He’s not picking up his phone. It just keeps going to voicemail.”

  The neighbor’s body language shifted slightly, his head tipping in the direction of McLachlan’s apartment, a slight frown crossing his face.

  Zachary swallowed. He woke up his phone and selected McLachlan’s number from his recent calls list. As they both stood there, waiting, a cell phone started to trill from inside the apartment.

  “He’s home,” Zachary pointed out.

  The neighbor frowned, nodding slowly and looking at the closed door.

  “I haven’t heard him, though. He was getting his bags packed. I went out for dinner. I never saw him again after that. Why would he pack his bags if he was just going to stay home?”

  “His bags?” Zachary focused on this. “You said he had a bag. Now it’s more than one bag? How many?”

  “I don’t know.” The neighbor shook his head. “Maybe… three. A couple of suitcases and a duffel. Just… he looked like he was going on vacation.”

  “Three pieces for the weekend? He must have planned to be away for longer than that.”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask where he was going or for how long. I just said ‘going on a trip?’ And… he said yes. Maybe he’s going to Hawaii for a week. I wouldn’t know.”

  “I don’t think he’s going to Hawaii,” Zachary said. The apartment building didn’t look like it rented to people who would be able to afford a week in Hawaii. Even with a job as a lab tech, Zachary suspected McLachlan probably barely made the rent. He wouldn’t have money to be throwing around on extended vacations. If he was packing three pieces of luggage, he was leaving. For good.

  But why was his cell phone in the apartment? Was he still there? Ignoring them and planning to leave covertly once there was no one around? Or maybe he had left his cell phone there so that his new location couldn’t be traced. Once he got to his destination, he could pick up a burner phone. There would be nothing to connect him with Westlake or Vermont.

  Zachary looked at the closed door again and swore once more. “You don’t have the key, do you? Did he give you the key to give back to the super? Or maybe you have his key in case he needed something done while he was on vacation? Take in the newspaper or feed the cat?”

  “He doesn’t have a cat. And I don’t have a copy of his key. We’re not supposed to make copies or give them to anyone.”

  Zachary knocked on the door again. “Forest! Forest, are you in there? I need to talk to you!” He waited for a few beats. “Is everything okay? Do you need help?”

  The dread was spreading up from the pit of his stomach to his chest, strangling his breathing. He told himself again that McLachlan had left his phone behind deliberately so that no one could track him. It was too easy for someone to track a phone’s location. If he thought that Zachary had figured out what was going on and tried to have him arrested, he wouldn’t want the authorities to find him.

  Zachary scratched his jaw.

  One of those PIs on TV would just pick the lock or kick in the door. It looked pretty flimsy. But Zachary had never kicked down a door in his life, and he wasn’t about to try to explain to the police why he had done so.

  The call he had made to McLachlan’s phone had gone to voicemail. Zachary sighed and dialed the police.

  He didn’t try 9-1-1. A missing suspect wasn’t quite an emergency, even if his place of business were wondering where he had gone. He could still just be out on the town or taking a weekend holiday even though he was supposed to be working. People did that kind of thing all the time. Sometimes even disappeared for several days at a time and then showed up at work as if nothing had happened, expecting to have their jobs still and not understanding why everyone was so pissed off.

  He tried Mario’s number, but he wasn’t at his office, and instead, Zachary got Waverly, who wasn’t nearly as easy to deal with as Mario. Mario must have gotten the day off. Or wasn’t on until later in the day.

  “Waverly. This is Zachary Goldman.”

  “Goldman,” Waverly snorted. “What’s your problem this time, Goldman?”

  “I need a welfare check.”

  “And you think we’re at your beck and call? Call it in at the non-emergency number like you’re supposed to.”

  “I can do that… I just thought… well, this guy might have had something to do with a fraud perpetrated on Gordon Drake. Do you know Gordon Drake…?”

  Gordon was well-known. A wealthy man with good political connections. He probably gave to the police relief fund and all of those other good things. Keeping the wheels greased for when he needed any favors.

  “Gordon Drake,” Waverly repeated, and this time he had toned down the contempt in his voice. “The investment banker?”

  “Yes, that’s him. I can have him call it in to the main number if you want. I just thought we could be a little more discreet and send someone over… maybe put a little priority on it.”

  Waverly cleared his throat. Even knowing who Gordon was, he probably didn’t have the discretion to make that decision himself. “Exactly who is this? What’s going on?”

  “The guy’s name is Forest McLachlan. He’s a doctor, a lab tech. He didn’t show up at work today and his office is worried about him. I’m over at his apartment, and he’s not answering, but his phone is ringing inside.”

  “Well, he’s home, then, and just doesn’t want to have to deal with you. Can’t say I blame the guy. I wouldn’t want any private dick looking over my shoulder either. We’re not in the habit of using police resources just to go after people who didn’t feel like going into work today.”

  “I think it’s more than that. I’m worried that something might have happened to him.”

  “I thought he was a suspect. Something about a fraud.”

  “Yes. Gordon isn’t going to be happy if we let him slip through our fingers. If McLachlan has left town…”

  “But y
ou don’t think he’s left town. You think he’s hiding in his apartment and you want the police to roust him for you.”

  “Do you want to talk to his neighbor? He’s concerned too…” Zachary met the neighbor’s eyes. The man shook his head and backed away, but still didn’t shut his door, his eyes wide and interested in Zachary’s phone call. Clearly, things like this didn’t happen every day. It was a spectacle.

  “What neighbor?”

  “The guy in the apartment next door is worried that something might have happened to him too. He thought that he had left, but with the cell phone ringing in the apartment… Anything could have happened to the guy. He could have slipped and hit his head. You don’t know. Don’t you think it is a little suspicious that he isn’t answering any calls from work or from anyone else? But he hasn’t turned off his ringer?”

  Waverly considered this for a moment. If someone wasn’t going to answer their phone, why would he just let it keep ringing and ringing. Especially when he knew Zachary was right outside his door. He would at least turn off the ringer. Reject the call. Turn off the phone. People didn’t like to hear their phones ringing endlessly.

  “Fine,” Waverly huffed finally. “I’ll see if we can spare a couple of officers for a welfare check. But if this is some wild goose chase…”

  “I have no idea where McLachlan is. I swear to that. I don’t know whether everything is okay or not.”

  “Give me the information you have.”

  Zachary gave him the address, McLachlan’s phone number, the number of the clinic if he wanted to check in with them, and McLachlan’s full name.

  “And you want to explain to me how this is connected to Gordon Drake?”

  “I don’t want to go into details over the phone with people listening in. Gordon wouldn’t want his personal business spread all over town.”

  Waverly grumbled under his breath, but didn’t push it. “You might be waiting a while. I don’t know how long it will take to free up a unit to send over there.”

  “I’ll hang out here.”

  29

  It didn’t take very long for a couple of police officers to arrive. It must have been a quiet day. Or else Waverly had been more concerned about it than he had given Zachary reason to believe. They stopped to talk to Zachary for a moment before knocking on McLachlan’s door.

  Zachary explained again about McLachlan not showing up for work and about how his phone was ringing inside the apartment but he wasn’t answering.

  “You want to call it again?” the cop who had introduced himself as Louden suggested.

  Zachary nodded and tapped the number again. Once more, they could hear McLachlan’s phone ringing on the other side of the door.

  The cop banged on the door. “Mr. McLachlan? Police welfare check. If you are there, please come to the door.”

  There was no answer. Louden banged some more. “If you’re in there, you need to answer the door, or we are going to have to force it.”

  The neighbor was still hanging around watching and a few other doors had opened. People stared, wide-eyed, at the police standing outside of McLachlan’s door.

  “Does anybody know where he might have gone?” Conners, the other officer, questioned, aimed at the various neighbors. “Did he leave travel plans with anyone? A key?”

  They shook their heads, looking at each other.

  “Is there an onsite manager? Someone in the building with a master key?”

  “Downstairs,” a woman offered. “He has an office on the second floor.”

  “Would you mind seeing if he can come up with a key?”

  She looked like she would have preferred to watch him break the door down, but eventually nodded. “Okay, sure.”

  They waited while she took the elevator down to find the manager. Louden knocked a few more times, just to be doing something. Eventually, the elevator dinged and the neighbor returned with a man with black, greasy hair and stained coveralls.

  “I have other work to do,” he grumbled as if the police regularly harassed him and forced him to abandon important work projects.

  “If you could just open Mr. McLachlan’s apartment, it would be very helpful for us. We would like to make sure he’s okay.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be?” The manager looked at Zachary, and then back at the police officers while he went to McLachlan’s door and jingled through his keychain to find the right key.

  No one gave him any explanation as to why McLachlan might not be okay. They just waited for him to open the door and, eventually, he inserted a key and turned it. Louden didn’t let him open the door, but motioned him back. He also gave Zachary a stern look.

  “You are to stay out here. We are not in the habit of letting civilians into a private residence, whatever you might have seen on TV.”

  “I’ll stay here,” Zachary agreed.

  He didn’t want to contaminate the scene if there were any evidence of McLachlan’s wrongdoing or where he had gone. The police would be taking over that part of the investigation. If there were anything to investigate.

  The police opened the door far enough to slip into the apartment and closed it again behind them. Zachary could hear them calling ahead to advise McLachlan, if he was still home, that they were coming in. It was a few minutes before they came back to the door.

  “No one home,” Louden told Zachary.

  “Does it look like he’s run? I don’t know if Waverly told you I’ve been investigating him for Gordon Drake.”

  They exchanged looks. “There’s one packed bag in here,” Louden told Zachary finally. “And the phone. I don’t see why he would leave them behind. If he ran, why wouldn’t he take all of his bags?”

  “One of the neighbors said that he had several bags packed. The neighbor left while he was getting ready to go, and thought that he had gone away for the weekend because he didn’t see any more of him.”

  “We’ll check to see if his car is in the parking lot. But it doesn’t make much sense that he would pack his bags and then leave this one here.”

  Zachary checked the time on his phone to make sure that he was still well within the time he would need to get back to Mr. Peterson’s for dinner.

  “Maybe… he was interrupted.”

  “But then he would be here. Wouldn’t he?”

  “There’s no sign… that something happened to him?”

  “No blood, no signs of violence. Just looks like he left of his own accord.”

  Zachary shifted uneasily, thinking about it. His mind went unwillingly to Gordon. He’d had his suspicions about Gordon when he’d investigated Chase Gold. He remembered his worries that Gordon might have been involved in Lauren Barclay’s death. Daniel’s assertion that Gordon was a psychopath. The little things that had niggled at Zachary, making him wonder if Gordon was all he appeared to be, or if it was all just a mask hiding something far more sinister underneath.

  Gordon knew that Zachary had been investigating McLachlan and thought that he was the one who had swapped Gordon’s sperm for his own. For a man like Gordon, so powerful and used to having things done his way, it would be a terrible blow to find out that another man had fathered Bridget’s children. Had he decided to speed up the timeline and not wait for Zachary to finish his investigation? Had he been sure enough that the culprit was McLachlan that he had gone ahead and taken things into his own hands?

  McLachlan had been ready to run. He had been preparing to go. But something had prevented him from taking that last bag and phone. Zachary hoped that he’d just left them behind in error. Maybe he had been distracted or interrupted and decided to just go without them. He was out there on the road somewhere. Maybe they would be able to track him down and maybe not. But he was still okay.

  He didn’t want to think that McLachlan might be in the trunk of his car at the bottom of a nearby lake.

  Eventually, Zachary had to leave. There were no answers to be found at McLachlan’s apartment. The manager locked it back up. The officers would rep
ort what they had found and would wait to see if McLachlan appeared somewhere or if he was a missing person. There was nothing to be done until they found out more. Maybe he had gone back to Minnesota to see his family. Maybe he had just struck out for Arizona or Mexico or somewhere else he could start over again with a new name and identity.

  But it was getting late and Zachary didn’t want to take the chance of being tardy for Pat’s dinner. He got back into his car and made the journey back to Pat and Lorne’s house.

  He got a broad grin from Mr. Peterson when he stepped in the door. “You made it!”

  Zachary looked at the time on his phone. “Plenty of time for a shower and shave,” he suggested.

  “Yes. All yours. Thank you, Zachary. I just wanted… I know how much Pat has been looking forward to introducing you to his family. It’s important for him to… be able to bring both parts of his life back together into one integrated whole. To… be himself, one hundred percent, and not have to be different things for different people.”

  Zachary nodded slowly. There had always been that rift in Pat’s life. He didn’t make a big deal of it. He seemed happy most of the time and rarely referred to his family, but Zachary knew that he had been hoping to reunite with his family one day. And now that he had… to merge the two lives into one.

  “I’d better get ready.” He touched Mr. Peterson on the arm and walked past him to get himself ready for the dinner.

  Zachary paced around the house restlessly, waiting for Pat’s family to arrive so that he could get through the initial awkward stages of introduction and conversation. The house was tidier than usual, with reading materials and projects put away, and all decor carefully reviewed and adjusted. Pat was in his glory in the kitchen.

  He had made several varieties of ravioli and the sweet and spicy scent filled the air. Some spring potatoes and vegetables rounded the meal out, and there were a couple of bottles of wine to choose from.