The Missing Piece

by Sala, Sharon

  “There’s one other thing. What’s the name of the lead detective handling this case?” Charlie asked.

  “Detective Cristobal. He’s with the Denver Police Department. Our family home is actually in an area called Greenwood Village, but since Carter’s disappearance is so high profile, Denver PD is handling the case. I’ll give him a call and let him know we’ve hired you. They have some interesting footage you need to see about Uncle Carter’s car disappearing on traffic cam.”

  Charlie mentally filed away that information and followed the secretary out and then down to the end of the hall without comment.

  Three

  Carter’s office was the entire southwest corner of the tenth floor, with two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows. The ornately carved rosewood desk was at least sixteen feet in length. A single computer screen sat on one corner, and what appeared to be an antique Tiffany lamp was on the other. The room was picture-perfect, almost staged in appearance.

  Charlie turned to the secretary.

  “Is this room always this sterile?”

  She nodded. “Mr. Dunleavy didn’t like anything out of place.”

  “And his desk was like this when he left to go to his meeting?”

  “Yes, sir. Except for a detective from the police department, no one’s been in here since Mr. Dunleavy’s disappearance.”

  “Did he always keep his desk this clean?”

  She looked a little startled and then shook her head. “Well, he usually had his daily planner on the desk, and a handful of pens beside his cup of coffee.”

  Charlie glanced at the carpet, noticing a slight variation in the pile that ran from his desk to the wet bar on the other side of the room and wondered if the man was a drinker, then let it go. He’d find out the details soon enough. Instead, he pointed at the desk.

  “Is this his only computer?”

  She hesitated. “Uh, no.”

  “Then where are the others?” Charlie asked.

  She hesitated again.

  “Look,” Charlie said. “I have Jason’s permission to see it all. I can’t find this man if I don’t know what was going on in his life.”

  “Yes, of course. Follow me.”

  As the secretary reached beneath the wet bar, Charlie heard a click, and then watched a small door opening in the paneled walls, revealing a concealed room. From where he was standing, he could see five computers. He walked past the secretary into the room. All the computers were on and running programs. Two printers were churning out hard copies, and at first glance it appeared that one computer was dedicated to constant updates from the New York Stock Exchange.

  “Did the Denver police see this room?” Charlie asked.

  The secretary looked anxious. “No, sir, but they didn’t ask.”

  “Where would Carter Dunleavy keep his schedule of daily appointments?”

  “Uh, even though he had his own planner, I gave him a daily agenda with updated schedules.”

  He handed her a card. “Please send the last six months of those agendas to that email. Also, did he use a car service?”

  “Yes, the one that belongs to the company, except the day he went missing. That day he drove himself.”

  “Why?” Charlie asked.

  “I don’t know. He just did.”

  “Was that normal?”

  “No, sir. It was a variation from his usual routine.”

  “I’ll need the make, model and tag on the car he was driving, and while you’re at it, please send a list of company-owned vehicles to that email address, as well.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Charlie glanced back into the secret room. “I need the passwords to these computers.”

  “I don’t know if—”

  “I’ll remind you again. I find people. One of yours is missing. I need to know if he was being threatened or blackmailed. I need to know if he had a girlfriend or a dirty little secret that sent him running. If any of those things are true, I will find info about them on his computers. I also want the password to the computer on his desk. That’s all I need from you right now. If there’s anything else, how do I contact you?”

  She pointed to the phone on Carter’s desk. “Pick up the phone and press Seven. That rings my desk. I’ll get the passwords for you. It won’t take long.”

  Charlie nodded, waited until she was gone and then called Wyrick. She answered on the second ring.

  “Dodge Security and Investigations.”

  “It’s me. I’m in Dunleavy’s office, standing in a hidden room behind the wet bar. There are five computers here, a couple of printers shooting out hard copies faster than flying buckshot at a turkey shoot, one of them running updates from the New York Stock Exchange. There’s another computer on his desk. I have the flash drives you sent and I’ll have the passwords to these computers shortly.”

  “Call me back when you get them. I’ll walk you through the rest of it.”

  The line went dead in his ear.

  “Goodbye to you, too,” he muttered, then went to Carter’s desk and began going through the drawers. Even though he didn’t expect to find anything in a room this sanitized, it was routine to check everything. He was still looking when the secretary returned. She handed him a list designating which password went with which computer and left him alone.

  Seconds later, Charlie was back on the phone with Wyrick. Within fifteen minutes she had accessed everything.

  “How long will this take?” he asked.

  “You can leave now.”

  Charlie still hesitated. “What about the data on the flash drives?”

  “Take them with you. I’m already in.”

  “Call me if you find anything wonky,” Charlie said.

  “Of course.”

  He tried to disconnect first, but she was already gone.

  Damn it.

  He pocketed the flash drives, then shut the hidden door and left the office. Next stop—Denver PD. When he got back to his car, he called Detective Cristobal’s number, which Jason had given him. The phone rang twice.

  “Missing Persons, Detective Cristobal speaking.”

  “Detective, my name is Charlie Dodge, I’m a private investigator out of Dallas. The Dunleavy family hired me to assist in finding Carter Dunleavy, and I wonder if I might stop by and talk to you.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Cristobal said.

  “Thanks. I’ll see you soon,” Charlie said, then entered the address in his GPS and drove out of the parking lot, following directions as he went.

  But he wasn’t the only one investigating. Detective Cristobal ran a quick search to see what the man was all about, and the more he read, the more impressed he became. Former army ranger. Highly decorated hero. Solved some high-profile cases, and he was licensed to practice in the state of Colorado. He had no quarrel with any of that, so he logged out of his search and went back to work.

  * * *

  As Charlie was driving, his thoughts shifted to Annie and he wondered if this was one of her good days or if she was upset. It used to happen more often, but not so much anymore, and in a way that bothered him. The reality of her world was a steady slide downhill, and he didn’t like the distance—the emotional distance—between them. He did, however, trust Wyrick to take care of his business while he was gone, including his concerns about Annie.

  But he set personal thoughts aside as he reached the precinct. He turned off the street into the parking lot and parked, then grabbed his briefcase and cell phone as he hurried inside. He was escorted into Missing Persons and directed to Detective Cristobal’s desk.

  “Detective Cristobal, I’m Charlie Dodge. Thank you for seeing me on short notice.”

  “Of course,” Cristobal said. “Please take a seat.”

  Charlie sat in a chair at the end of the detective’s desk.

  “S
o, how can I help you?” Cristobal asked politely.

  “By sharing as much of your investigation with me as you can. I understand there was a digital video from the traffic cam where his car disappeared en route to an appointment. I would appreciate a copy, and if not, at least the opportunity to view it.”

  Cristobal nodded. “I can do that. Truthfully, we’re at a standstill right now. We’ve chased down every lead we had and exhausted our resources, and we still don’t know if he left on his own or was kidnapped. The family has received no requests for money, and we’ve been getting a lot of pressure from them for answers we don’t have.”

  “Was he into anything kinky that you know of...or in any way connected to organized crime?” Charlie asked.

  Cristobal shook his head. “Not that we’re aware of. Carter’s a shark when it comes to his business, but everything was aboveboard. That’s not to say he didn’t make enemies, because his holdings are vast and diversified, but we didn’t uncover any serious verbal threats to him, either.”

  “People like him don’t just disappear,” Charlie said.

  “Agreed,” Cristobal said. “And yet, he did. If you’ll wait a few minutes, I’ll get you the copies you requested. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “Yeah, sure, that would be great. I got off the plane less than two hours ago, so I’m short at least a gallon of my daily caffeine quota.”

  Cristobal laughed. “I know what you mean. Do you take cream or sugar?”

  “Just black,” Charlie replied, and then checked his phone as Cristobal walked away. There were no updates from Wyrick, so he sat back in the chair. He was good at waiting.

  A couple of minutes later, Cristobal returned with the coffee and two big chocolate chip cookies on napkins.

  “It was someone’s birthday today, and she brought cookies to share instead of cake. They’re good. I got myself a second one so you wouldn’t feel bad eating in front of me,” he said and then grinned.

  Charlie laughed. “Thanks.”

  Cristobal nodded as he sat back down and took a big bite.

  Charlie had a quick sip of the coffee, hid his reaction to the bitter taste, then set it aside.

  “Can I ask you some questions while we wait?”

  “Sure,” Cristobal said.

  “Jason Dunleavy told me his uncle’s car was on the traffic cam footage and then it disappeared.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “So, what’s up with the skip? Is that just a dead spot, no camera in that location?”

  “Oh, there’s a camera there, but when we investigated, it had been disabled. Someone shot it out. It’s happened before in different locations around the city.”

  “How long had it been disabled?” Charlie asked.

  “Actually, less than twenty-four hours,” Cristobal said and took another bite of his cookie.

  “That’s too big a coincidence for me to believe it wasn’t intentional,” Charlie said. “Either someone wanted it out so he—or they—could snatch Dunleavy, or Dunleavy wanted it out himself so he could disappear.”

  Cristobal nodded. “We think so, too.”

  Charlie managed another sip of the coffee and nibbled at the cookie to be polite, while he ran through different scenarios in his mind.

  “Okay, what about family connections? Did you find anything about any of the would-be heirs that seemed suspicious?”

  “No, and that’s all in the case file you’ll be getting. We personally interviewed each one on a separate basis, and they all seemed genuinely upset that he had disappeared, and none of them are having any kind of financial difficulties.”

  “Not even Jason?” Charlie asked.

  Cristobal frowned. “No. Why would you ask that?”

  “Because when I met with him earlier, he had white residue on his tie. I made a comment that he’d missed some, and he didn’t even pretend to deny it was a blow.”

  “That’s something we didn’t know,” Cristobal muttered.

  “If none of them are in financial difficulties, then maybe all that means is Jason Dunleavy has the money to indulge his habit,” Charlie suggested.

  “Maybe,” Cristobal said.

  “Since you’re being so generous with me, I’m going to give you a heads-up about the secret room in Dunleavy’s office.”

  Cristobal frowned again. “What secret room?”

  “It’s behind the bar.”

  “How the hell did you find that out?” he asked.

  “I thought Dunleavy’s desktop looked staged, and there were no business files to be seen. I asked if he had other computers, and the secretary hedged on answering until I reminded her that I’d been given access to any and everything pertaining to Carter Dunleavy. So she walked to the bar, pressed a secret panel and the door opened. There was a whole bank of computers in there running nonstop.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Cristobal muttered. “We’ll be paying them another visit. Did you find anything on them?”

  “I don’t know yet, and they might be encrypted. I have my assistant checking files as we speak.”

  “Is he good enough to decipher encrypted files?”

  Charlie resisted the urge to roll his eyes, which was his first instinct regarding anything Wyrick did.

  “She is hell on wheels with every damn thing she does. She can hack anything, write programming for anything technical and has a pilot’s license. She can fly anything, and has actually rescued my ass a couple of times since she came to work for me. Just before I left to come here, she took down an assailant who was after a client in my office. Nailed his ass with the Taser she keeps in her desk.”

  Cristobal grinned. “Sounds like she’d make a good cop.”

  “She doesn’t like rules, so that might be a problem,” Charlie said.

  Cristobal laughed out loud, and then they sat in mutual silence as they finished the cookies.

  Charlie took one last sip of the bitter coffee and set it aside just as a clerk delivered the files and a digital copy of the traffic cam video.

  The detective checked that it was all there and then handed it over.

  “I trust you’ll share the info if you make any discoveries,” he said.

  “Count on it, and thank you.”

  “Of course, and thank you for the heads-up about the other computers,” Cristobal said. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Charlie gathered up the info and put it in his briefcase, then followed Cristobal out of Missing Persons and down the hall to the elevator.

  “Good hunting,” Cristobal said as he pressed the down button.

  “And you,” Charlie said, then got on the elevator.

  The ride down was swift and he was soon exiting the building. It was past noon now, but with the lunch hour came an increase in traffic. Once inside the car, he started the engine and turned on the air conditioner, then sat and read the initial police report, noting the location where they’d lost Carter on the traffic cam. The urge to see the area where Carter had disappeared was even stronger than his hunger, so he set the address in his GPS and drove away.

  He’d been in Denver before, but it had been years ago, when he and Annie were celebrating their fifth wedding anniversary. Now driving through the streets again, recognizing restaurants and landmarks that they’d seen together, made this harder than he’d expected.

  “Shit happens,” he muttered, and made himself focus on the task at hand.

  On Fifteenth Street, the GPS warned him he had an upcoming turn north onto Wynkoop Street, which was the road Carter would have taken to get to the Chop House Restaurant, where the lunch meeting he was supposed to attend was being held. But it was at that very intersection where the traffic cam had been disabled. Where Carter Dunleavy had disappeared...

  As Charlie approached the intersection, he began assessing what else was there,
and noticed the close proximity to an Amtrak station. He turned onto Wynkoop and headed toward the restaurant, but as he did, he also realized there were hotels and even a parking garage nearby—likely for access to Amtrak, but it was something he’d consider if he wanted to hide a car...

  Now that he’d seen the location, he entered the address of his hotel, the Grand Hyatt on Welton Street, and drove back to his hotel. He was sick of riding, first in the plane and now in the rental car, and was more than relieved to get back to his room.

  The lobby was full of women checking in, and a good number of them already in the bar visiting. Most likely a convention, he thought, as he rode the elevator up to the ninth floor. He exited, quickly oriented himself and followed the signs until he found Room 910.

  The room was spacious, and the bed felt comfortable. He pulled the curtains back to let in some light and then unpacked the bag he’d left before and took out his laptop. The first thing he wanted to look at was the traffic cam footage.

  He took off his shoes, ordered lunch from room service and then got out the files Detective Cristobal had given him. As soon as he had the make, color and license plate number of the car Carter Dunleavy had been driving, he quickly located it on the footage and followed Carter’s progress. He saw the car on Fifteenth, still heading toward Wynkoop Street, but then he was gone. There was no further footage showing the car, and it didn’t appear on the traffic cams on Wynkoop. But he’d seen the area, and there was no way there’d been some kind of on-site kidnapping without dozens of witnesses.

  Charlie was leaning toward the idea that Carter was on the run, or that he’d been hijacked before he ever left the parking garage at his office and had been a hostage the whole drive through the city.

  So now he’d seen the footage. It was time to read the police files and see where searches had been made and the people who’d been cleared so far in the investigation. He took his laptop and the files and lay down on the bed, propped himself up with the pillows and began to read. He was still reading when room service knocked and delivered his lunch. As soon as he had the room to himself again, he sat down at the table to eat, still reading files and making notes as he went.