by Beverly Long
She nodded, her eyes guarded.
Jacqui wasn’t a dumbshit. She had to know that she’d crossed the line by going to see Tess’s daughter. But she had never liked to admit that she was wrong and he suspected that wasn’t going to be different today.
“I am aware,” he said, “that Tess Lyons ran into Traci at the mall the other night. And I am also aware that you just happened to be on the campus of UW-Eau Claire in the dining hall where Tess’s daughter eats.”
“Is this an interrogation, A.L.?” she asked, sounding deliberately bored.
“No,” he said.
“Then what’s your point?” Jacqui asked.
“My point is, don’t do that again. Don’t go looking for Tess’s daughter.”
“But it’s okay if she looks for my daughter. Is that how this goes?” Now Jacqui’s voice was loud. He was sure if Traci had her door open, she was hearing every word.
“Shush,” he said.
“Don’t shush me.”
He held up a hand. “Fine. Can you please keep your voice down so that Traci isn’t a part of this conversation?”
Jacqui pressed her lips together. “Fine,” she said.
“I... I don’t ask you for a lot, Jacqui. I pretty much let you set the rules about when and where I get to see Traci. And you’ve been fair and we’ve managed to work through things. All I’m asking is that you not purposely screw up what I’ve got going with Tess.”
She stared at him.
He stared back.
“Is that all?” she asked finally.
“Yeah. That’s all.”
She turned. “You can let yourself out, A.L.”
He did just that. He was pretty sure he’d gotten his message across but whether Jacqui chose to heed the request was anyone’s guess.
Fourteen
The next morning, Rena was drumming her fingers on her desk when A.L. arrived at 6:30. She looked as if she had something to tell him. “What?” he asked.
“We checked for the wrong sister,” she announced.
“I’ve only had one cup of coffee. You’re going to have to give me more than that.”
“We checked to make sure that Kara Wiese didn’t have a sister.”
“And that her mother was dead,” he added.
She waved a hand. “This is about sisters.”
“Okay,” he said. He pulled out his chair.
“Alice Quest has a sister,” Rena said. “We never checked for that. There was no reason to.”
“And this is important because?”
“Because she lives in Dover.”
A.L. picked up his empty coffee cup and set it back down. “Very little in life is a coincidence.”
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s true,” A.L. said. “What’s her name?”
“Melissa Wayne.”
“Older? Younger?”
“Older by two years. Alice is fifty-two. Melissa just turned fifty-four. Alice lied to us. Looked us right in the eye and lied. We were talking about Brenda Owen calling her and we asked her if she knew Dover and she said no. Her sister lives there.”
“She also said that she’d never heard about Corrine Antler. Guess we don’t know if that’s true or not,” he said.
“I’m going to find out,” Rena said. “I’m pissed at her and...I guess disappointed.”
“Yeah, doesn’t look good for Alice,” A.L. said. “Do you think it’s even possible that there is any intersect between Alice and Rosemary Bracken?”
“I thought of that. Nothing that I’ve been able to find thus far. But I think I’m going back to Dover.”
“Your gut is talking to you again?” A.L. asked.
“I think its heartburn,” she said. “Maybe you should go back to the psychic and ask her about Dover.”
“I think I’m going to talk to a few more parents, ask some more specific questions about Alice.”
“Are we in danger of missing the trees for the forest?”
“We’re not going to ignore everybody else. But the dogs haven’t picked up Emma’s scent anywhere else.”
“As irritated as I am that she lied to us, I can’t get past the fact that if she really was responsible for Emma’s disappearance and Emma was in her backyard, why didn’t she simply just tell us that Emma had been there once? I don’t know, make up something like she took the kids for a field trip and had to stop at home to check something and Emma got off the bus and wandered around the yard.”
A.L. shrugged. “I don’t know. Who knows why people say what they do?”
“Maybe she was just telling us the truth,” Rena said.
“But still, you’re going to Dover.”
“I have to. Too many ties to that area to ignore it. Maybe I’ll get lucky and run into Coyote Frogg.”
“Any day you can stumble over a meth addict is a good day,” A.L. said. “Keep in touch.”
“Before I go, I just have to ask. How did your conversation with Jacqui go?”
“How do you think it went?”
“I don’t know. I had this wild daydream that she threw herself at your feet and tearfully told you that ever since Tess came into the picture, she’s realized how much she loves you and that she must have you back.”
“That didn’t happen.”
“That’s it. That’s all I’m going to get. That didn’t happen.”
A.L. sighed. “I talked. She listened or pretended to listen. I’m never sure which.”
“What are you going to tell Tess?”
“Nothing. She asked me to handle it and I’ve done the best I can. What happens next is anybody’s guess.”
“I think you’re pretending that you’re not concerned but that is totally not true.”
“You have somewhere to go, right?” he asked.
“Send Tess some flowers. Everybody loves flowers.”
“Goodbye,” he said. Then he turned his attention to his computer.
* * *
Flowers, huh? Once he knew that Rena was out the door, he tapped a few keys, brought up the website of the Petal Poof, the little store on the main street. It was a step back in time looking at their information. Months ago, one of their employees, Jane Picus, had been a victim of the serial killer who had almost killed Tess.
He’d liked the people at Petal Poof. Thought they had nice flowers.
It was Saturday so they’d be open, just not yet. Probably at nine.
He walked back to the break room and filled his cup with what looked like industrial-strength coffee. He didn’t mind. The more caffeine, the better. When he got back to his desk, he reached for the list that Rena had been working on. He saw the two names of parents that she’d yet to reach.
He thought about calling but since Alice Quest had so nicely provided the names of the parents’ employers and their telephone numbers if she had them, he saw the Shana Federer was employed by Baywood Bank. That made him think of Steven Hanzel. And made him think that it might be worth his time to visit in person. He knew the bank was open from eight to noon on Saturday mornings.
At eight thirty, A.L. arrived at the Baywood Bank. He asked the security guard at the door if he knew Shana Federer and the man pointed at the fourth teller window. A.L. waited in line, grateful that nobody came up behind him. Five minutes later, after some high school kid with a jar of change was helped, he put his badge on the counter and slid it so she could easily see it. “I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes.”
She didn’t ask why. Everybody knew what the police were working on. “I’ll need to ask my supervisor,” she said.
Four minutes later, she led him down a hallway to an empty break room. There were vending machines on one side, a microwave, refrigerator and sink on the other side of the room. A round table with six chairs in the middle. She pulled one bac
k and he did the same. Before she sat, she removed her cell phone from her back pocket and put it on the table.
He showed her the sign-in sheet. “Can you describe your general drop-off process at the day care?”
“I guess,” she said. “We’ve got a routine. Mia has been going there for over a year.”
“I understand,” he said. “Just walk me through it.”
“We live just down the street from the day care. On the days that I start work later, Mia and I walk. On earlier days, I drive. That’s what it was on Wednesday. I drove, parked and we walked inside. I usually glance in the office to say good morning to Alice. I started to do that but the office was empty. I assumed she was in one of the classrooms.”
“Was there anybody else in the lobby?”
“There was a dad leaving as we walked in. I don’t know his name but his son is in Mia’s class. His name is Wyatt. They’re pretty new at the day care.”
“Okay. Then what?”
“I...” She closed her eyes. “I walked Mia to her classroom. Went inside as far as the cubbies and hung up her backpack. That’s when I saw Alice Quest and I realized she was covering for Olivia Blow. Anyway, I waved to Alice, then I hugged Mia and I left.”
“You signed the sheet?” he clarified.
“Yes,” she said. “I did. That’s just habit. I always do that immediately after I hang up Mia’s backpack.”
“And how did you know what time it was?”
“My phone. I always have it in my back pocket. Never wear any pants that don’t have a back pocket. I know it’s stupid, because I’m not so important that I couldn’t miss a call, but I just feel better when I have my phone on me.”
“Okay.”
“Then I left.”
“The building?” he clarified.
“I...” She hesitated, then scratched behind her left ear. “Actually I had to stop in the bathroom. I have IBS. Irritable bowel syndrome,” she added. “Sometimes I need a bathroom rather quickly and that was one of those mornings where I didn’t think I could wait until I got to work.”
He’d already had one conversation about diarrhea with Olivia Blow and he didn’t want to have another one now. But he wanted to make sure he had her full statement. “After you used the bathroom, what happened?”
“I left.”
“Did you see anyone as you left?”
“No. I mean, I saw Kara in the bathroom but that was it.”
“Kara?”
“Yeah. Kara Wiese. She’s a teacher there.”
Fifteen
Shana Federer had signed her daughter in at 7:08.
“If you went to the bathroom directly after you left Mia’s classroom, what time do you think it was that you saw Kara Wiese?”
“This is embarrassing,” she said.
“I’m sorry.”
“I guess it would have been about four or five minutes later. I have to go urgently so it’s generally pretty quick, you know. I had to get to work, too.”
“Right.” So that meant it was 7:12 or 7:13. Kara Wiese had been adamant that she hadn’t left her classroom prior to 7:30 because Claire Potter didn’t arrive until then and she couldn’t leave the children alone in the room. “Which bathroom did you use? The one in Mia’s classroom or the one in the hallway?”
“In the hallway.”
“And you’re confident that you saw Kara Wiese in the bathroom?”
“Well...yes. I mean, I thought it was her. We’re not friends but I’ve seen her a bunch of times at the day care.”
“Do you remember the conversation?”
“I don’t know. She was standing at the sink when I came out of the stall. It was sort of embarrassing because...well, you know, it’s always better if the bathroom is empty and I didn’t know how long she’d been standing there. Anyway, I think I said good morning and she said good morning and I washed my hands and left.”
“She was still in the bathroom when you left, still by the sink.”
“I think so.”
“What was she doing?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t really look at her that closely. Maybe she was doing her makeup. Sometimes that happens to me when I’m running late. I put my makeup on at work.”
“Can I see the time on your phone?” he asked.
She looked surprised but she picked up her phone. He checked the time on it against his own phone. Same thing on both. So he was pretty confident that his data points were good.
“Was there anybody else in the bathroom with you and Ms. Wiese?”
Shana shook her head. “I should probably get back to my window.”
“I understand.” She probably expected that he was going to ask about the color of her poop next. “Thank you for your time.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll walk you back to the lobby.”
When they got there, Shana extended her hand. “Good luck, Detective McKittridge.”
“Thank you.” Over her shoulder, at one of the desks in the far right corner of the bank, he saw Steven Hanzel. The man was sitting at a desk, turned so that his right side was to A.L. He was talking to a young couple who sat in chairs in front of his desk. A.L. was confident the man was unaware of his scrutiny. “You work with Steven Hanzel?” he asked.
She glanced over her shoulder. “I guess. I mean, yes. He’s a loan officer so we don’t interact very much.”
Exuberant Steven Hanzel, who had set A.L.’s teeth on edge. Maybe A.L. had sensed that the man ran around on his wife. He should call the psychic up and tell her he might be some competition. “Is he...well-liked at the bank?” A.L. asked.
She shrugged. “I think so. We both went to Baywood High. Actually dated for a month or two when I was a junior and he was a senior.”
“Small world,” A.L. said.
“I think he did a good thing setting up the fund-raising site.”
He heard something in her tone. “But...?”
She shrugged. “My sister-in-law is his manager. She’s shared some things.”
“Like what things?” A.L. asked.
Shana chewed on the corner of her upper lip, looking as if she realized that she might have said too much. No doubt what her sister had told her had been done in confidence. “I don’t want to get my sister-in-law in trouble. I think she only told me because she knew that we’d dated at one time and that he’d dumped me for another girl.”
Bingo. He was going to let Shana off the hook. It would be better to get the info firsthand versus second. “What’s your sister-in-law’s name?”
She said nothing.
“I’m pretty sure I can work this so that she doesn’t know that it was you who sent me her direction,” A.L. said.
“Tamara Federer. I married her younger brother. She’s divorced and went back to her maiden name.”
“Does she work out of this location?”
“Yes. The VPs have offices on the third floor.”
A vice president probably wasn’t working on a Saturday morning. He said as much to Shana.
“Yeah, most don’t. But my sister-in-law is a total type A and believes in leading by example. She’s working.”
“Okay. Don’t call her to warn her. That will spoil the plan.”
“I won’t. Thank you.”
A.L. walked directly to the bank of elevators on the far right side. He got in and pushed 3. When the doors opened, there was a reception desk immediately in front of the elevators. Nobody could miss it. And nobody could get by it without being seen.
The VPs evidently didn’t want to have unexpected visitors.
He smiled at the middle-aged woman behind the desk. “Tamara Federer, please.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
He pulled a business card. “No. But I am going to need to see her.”
The
woman picked up his card. Studied the info. “Just one minute, Detective. You can have a seat in the waiting area.”
The chairs on the third floor were a soft brown leather, nicer than the green fabric chairs that he’d seen in the downstairs lobby. He took a seat.
Tamara didn’t make him wait long. He heard her heels before he saw her. She rounded the corner, wearing a black pantsuit that looked good on her. She seemed young for a VP, maybe just midthirties. Her hair was platinum blond, cut short, and she wore way more makeup than he preferred. But altogether, she was a professional package.
She extended a hand. “Detective McKittridge, I’m Tamara Federer.”
“Thanks for seeing me.”
“Of course.”
“Do you have someplace where we might talk in private?” he asked.
“Follow me,” she said. She led him down a long hallway, in the opposite direction of where she’d come from. She opened the door to a small conference room. He took a seat in another really good-looking leather chair. This one swiveled.
She sat, too, at the head of the table. “What can I help you with?” she asked.
“I want to talk with you about Steven Hanzel.”
“Steven Hanzel who works here at Baywood Bank?” she asked, sounding surprised.
“Yes. I understand that you’re his supervisor.”
“I am. I... I guess you’ve caught me a little off-guard. In the past, I’ve had the opportunity to talk to the police just twice, and both times they had questions about customers. This is the first time I’ve had someone ask questions about an associate and I have to admit, it doesn’t feel good.”
“Please don’t read too much into my questions,” he said. “I am investigating the disappearance of Emma Whitman. I imagine you’ve heard about it.”
“It’s all anyone is talking about. I have a niece, she’s just a year younger, who goes to that same day care.”
A.L. kept his face blank.
“I told my sister-in-law that she should think about changing providers. I mean, really, what kind of place just lets a five-year-old walk out?”
“It’s my understanding that Steven Hanzel is friends with Troy Whitman, father of Emma. And that he is responsible for setting up the fund-raising site. That put him on my radar.”