“Of course.” She was wearing clear lipgloss and had patches of blush on her cheeks. “About Bertram?”
“Yes.”
Removing the stuffed panda from the chair, she said, “Sit down.”
Decker sat on the floral chair; McAdams took the desk chair and brought out his tablet to take notes. Colette sat on the edge of her bed, hands folded in her lap. It was obvious that she took great pride in her excellent manners.
“What’s your last name, Colette?”
“Bailey. B-A-I-L-E-Y.”
“Perfect,” Decker said. “How long have you lived here—at Loving Care?”
“A long time.”
“Five years? Ten years?”
“About ten years.”
“Okay. Then you probably know a lot about things around here.”
Another smile. “I know some things. Not everything! No one knows everything!”
“That is true. Do you remember when Bertram came here?”
“Of course.”
“What do you remember about him?”
She looked down. “I have to think.”
“Take your time.”
About a minute passed. Then she said, “He didn’t want to talk. Even though everyone said hello.”
“He was shy?”
“I guess.”
“But later on he talked to some of you. I know he talked to April. And I know he talked to you.” She nodded gravely and Decker said, “What did you talk about?”
A shrug. “He told me he missed his girlfriend. I thought he wanted me to be his new girlfriend. But I don’t want a boyfriend. We’re just plain friends.”
“It’s good to have friends,” Decker said. “Is that why you sat with him on the bus to the nature field trip? Because you were friends?”
“Yes.”
“What did you two talk about on the ride over?”
“That it was good to go on a trip. That’s what we talked about.”
“Then Bertram was happy to go on the field trip.”
“Well, he didn’t say ‘I’m happy.’ But I think he was. He wasn’t sad.”
“Do you like going on trips?” McAdams asked.
“Yes, I do. I like it here. They are very nice. But I like to see other things sometimes. I like the walks in nature that we do. And I like the museums. I don’t like so much the water parks. They’re hot and I don’t like the sun.”
“Yeah, I’m not much for sun either,” Decker said.
“I like art museums,” Collette said. “I don’t draw. But I like looking at the paintings.”
“I don’t draw either,” McAdams said. “But I really admire those who can do it.”
She nodded. Then she turned grave. “It’s sad that Bertram got lost.”
“It is,” Decker said, “and we’re trying very hard to find him. That’s why we need your help. Did Bertram say anything to you about Nurse Schulung on the bus ride over?”
“I have to think.” Seconds passed. “No.”
“Okay. The only thing you remember is you two talked about how it was good to go on trips.”
She wrinkled her nose. “He talked about video games. He liked video games.”
“Right,” Decker said. “Do you like video games?”
“No. But I didn’t tell him that. I didn’t want to make him feel bad.” Her eyes widened. “Oh. I remember one thing. I bet it’s important.”
“What’s that, Colette?”
“He was following the bus on a map.”
“He had a map?”
“On his phone,” she said. “It showed all the roads and there was an arrow and it moved when the bus moved.”
“He had nav on his phone,” McAdams said to Decker.
Decker nodded. “So, Bertram could see the bus move on the phone.”
“The bus wasn’t on the phone. Just the arrow.”
McAdams said, “I know this is a funny question, but do you remember the color of the arrow?”
“I think it was blue.”
“Probably Waze.”
Colette looked at the clock. “I need to be in the library to stamp the books.”
Decker said, “That’s an important job.”
“No, it isn’t. But I like the library. I like books. I can read, you know.”
“It’s excellent to read,” McAdams said. “Best way to learn about things.”
The woman pinkened. “Thank you.”
Decker stood up. “Thank you, Colette. You helped us a lot.”
“I’m glad.” She got up from the bed and put the stuffed panda back on her chair. A smile. “Bye.”
“Bye,” the men said in unison. They walked a few dozen feet down the hall and then McAdams said, “To use any kind of nav, you have to know how to open an app.”
“First, you have to have the app. Why would a developmentally disabled man who didn’t drive—who didn’t even ride a bicycle—have Waze on his phone?”
“Someone put it there. The question is for what purpose? To teach him how to escape?”
“Don’t know,” Decker said. “Whatever the reasons, the intentions don’t look good.”
CHAPTER 6
SEATED SHOTGUN, MCADAMS had a cup of coffee in one hand and a phone in the other. The ride was going to take a little time. He had plugged his cell into an adapter that fit in the cigarette lighter charger. No chance of running out of juice, but Decker’s car was antiquated. “Know what this car needs? Wi-Fi.”
“In my car?”
“Yes, Rabbi, it is now possible to have Wi-Fi in your car.”
“It’ll probably be as useful as my home Wi-Fi—which is always going out.”
“Why don’t you upgrade?”
“I’m not paying more for something I rarely use. If it’s work-related, I use the computers at the station house.”
“Well, you’re not at the station house, so I repeat. Get Wi-Fi for the car.”
“What on earth for?”
“For things like right now. My phone is using towers, which eats up battery life.”
“But you’re charging your phone, so what do you care about battery life?”
“You’re always asking me to look stuff up. I could use my pad instead of my phone. It’s easier to read things on my tablet.”
“I’m not getting Wi-Fi for a car.”
“Your grandkids could watch Netflix on their pads if you had it.”
“Bringing my grandkids into this inane discussion is a low blow. Look up the case on your phone. Or don’t look it up. It’ll keep until we get to the station house.”
“No need to get peeved, Old Man, it was just a suggestion.”
Decker was silent. McAdams shrugged. Within a few moments he found what he needed and read from his phone. “The missing boys—Zeke Anderson, Max Velasquez, and Bennett McCrae—they lived in the same dorm and went missing in mid-October during Parents’ Weekend ten years ago. There was a massive search.” He continued scanning the article. “The rest is filled with quotes from students and friends, a couple of TAs and several professors.”
“That’s good. It gives us a start on who to interview.”
“It was ten years ago.”
“I’m sure they remember the incident. Anything illuminating in the quotes?”
“Not really: they’re shocked, they don’t know what happened, they don’t know why it happened, they weren’t the types to attract bad people, whatever that means.”
“Any quotes from girlfriends?”
McAdams kept reading. “Don’t see anything.”
“Call Kevin at the station house and ask him to search for TV footage.”
“Sure. Want to see a picture of them?”
“I have to pull over. Any distinguishing features?”
“Zeke Anderson was Caucasian with a beard. Max Velasquez also looked Caucasian. He wore glasses and looked stunned in this head shot. Bennett McCrae was Black—good-looking. I don’t know if any of them were tattooed, but if they were, it’s no doub
t in the file along with dental records.”
“Any description of the clothing that they wore on the day of the disappearance?”
“Nope. The only detail related about the case is when they left—late Thursday afternoon. They told people they’d be back for class on Monday. By the following Wednesday, people started getting concerned.” McAdams thought a moment. “Who camps in these woods at that time of year? It can dip below freezing at night in mid-October.”
“Yeah, it could be a cover story,” Decker said.
“I’ll call Kevin. That way we’ll have the footage when we get back.” It was a ten-minute conversation. McAdams disconnected the line and said, “Update. Kev thinks the remains belong to Zeke Anderson from a fabric remnant: red-and-green plaid. Anderson had several red-and-green plaid shirts. Plaid is pretty much a staple item of clothing in Greenbury. But there were handfuls of coarse hair around his mandible.”
“Facial hair that fell off when his flesh decomposed.”
McAdams nodded. His phone rang. Tyler listened and said, “Sergeant, can I put you on speaker so Detective Decker can hear what you have to say? Thanks.” He pressed a button. “Okay. You’re on speaker.”
“This is Sergeant Quay from the Baniff Police Department.”
“Detective Peter Decker here. Thanks for calling back. We were in Baniff investigating a Missing Persons case: a man named Bertram Lanz who lives at Loving Care. He disappeared in our jurisdiction in Greenbury, New York.”
“Yes, I understand.”
McAdams said, “Could you please repeat what you told me, Sergeant, about Elsie Schulung’s house?”
A low, raspy voice said, “Everything appeared to be in order. We looked through windows, checked the doors, and did a once-over around back. Nothing seemed out of place. There’s mail in her outdoor box. About four days’ worth, I’d say. A few local flyers were left at the front door. There’s a window in the garage, and it’s covered. I could peek under the bottom of the shade, but I couldn’t see enough to tell if a car was parked there. I’ll get the make and model from DMV. I will say this. It’s a nice time of year to take a little time off, especially if you recently quit your job.”
McAdams mouthed, “I told him that.”
Decker nodded. “Of course. And since she had mail, she obviously didn’t forward it anywhere. But she didn’t stop delivery either.”
“Not that unusual. Most of it is bulk stuff. It looks to me like she took off for a little R and R.”
“Nothing else seemed suspicious?”
“Other than the mail, no. We called out, announced ourselves, but no one answered. No lights were on, and the AC appears to be turned off. There were no weird odors coming from the inside of the house. No flies buzzing around. I don’t have any reason to break down a door and do a welfare check.”
“I agree,” Decker said. “Only thing weird that I’ve found is her disconnected landline.”
“People are doing that more and more. Save on expenses. Do you know when it was disconnected?”
“No. It could have been months ago.”
“I’ll drive by the house in a few days and see if more mail is piling up. We can reevaluate at that time. How old is she?”
“Forty-three, I believe.”
“Okay. Vacation is looking like an option. Anything else?”
“No, I think you about covered it, Sergeant. Thank you very much.”
“We’ll talk again. I hope by then I have news for you. Bye.”
McAdams hung up his phone. “What do you think?”
“Who knows?” Decker shrugged. “I do hope that Bertram Lanz and Elsie Schulung have better outcomes than our missing campers.”
“Yeah, right.” McAdams looked out the passenger window. “That’s really our job, boss. We deal in awful outcomes. We pick up the shattered pieces of broken lives and try to make some sense of the unfathomable. Most of the time all we really do is shove the pieces back in place, but nothing is ever whole again. The lives still remain in tatters.”
The car was silent. Decker said, “Feeling overwhelmed?”
“Maybe, although I shouldn’t be. I’m done with law school. I am studying for the bar, and it’s going well. This case is just hitting close to home. I could imagine Chucky out there by himself … not good.”
“When was the last time you had a vacation, Harvard? As far as I remember, it’s been either school or the job. Maybe you can use a few days off.”
“Not with Bertram missing.”
“Tell you what, Harvard. I’m going back to the station house to look up the camper cold case. You go to the Zeke Anderson’s crime scene and let me know what’s happening there. Or … you can help the team scour the woods for Bertram Lanz.”
“I’ll go to the crime scene. From what I understand, the two are roughly in the same area.” McAdams was quiet for a moment. “I’m at loose ends. I don’t know where I’m going after I pass the bar.”
“Do you have to make a decision right away?”
“No.”
“Then don’t worry about it. This job is open for as long as you want. You’re a big asset to the department. That’s not pressure, that’s just a fact. It’s never a bad idea to take your time to think about major decisions. And empathy is always a good thing.”
McAdams gave a brief smile. “I’ve traded my lifelong sarcasm for deep introspection. I think that’s a mistake. Being bitter and angry feels a hell of a lot better than crying in my beer.”
Decker laughed. “Harvard, you can be a schmuck with me anytime you want.”
“Thank you, boss. Kinder words were never spoken.”
IT WAS DUSK when they returned to Greenbury, tired and road weary. The ride home had taken longer than expected and now there was little reason to make a stop at the crime scene. The bulk of the remains had been disinterred and were on their way to the morgue. Decker’s plan for tomorrow: a stop at the crime scene and a visit to the coroner’s office.
What a job he had chosen for his lifelong profession. Most of the time, he was impervious to the gruesome aspect of his work, intensely focused on bringing justice to the families. But then there were the days where it really got to him.
As soon as he arrived at the station house, he poured himself a strong cup of coffee and called his wife. Her voice made him smile. “Hey there.”
“Hey there, yourself. Are you back or calling from the road?”
“We’re back. No luck finding Bertram, but while the cops were out in the woods looking for him, they came across some buried remains.”
“‘Remains.’” A pause. “Not a recent case, then.”
“About ten years ago three male college students went camping and never returned. We may have found one of them, judging by remnants of clothing. We’ll know more if we get a positive identification.”
“And this happened ten years ago?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know the date? I’ll look it up.”
“Mid-October.”
“Who goes camping around here in mid-October? The woods can get very cold.”
“A few hearty souls.”
“Was it an exceptionally warm autumn?”
“No idea. I suspect that back then there were lots of marijuana farms hidden in the woods. Our climate isn’t the best for growing things, but if it was a warmer October, there still could be some plants to harvest. If you were a local dealer ten years ago, when marijuana was illegal in the state, hidden farms would have been one way to get material without going through a middleman.”
“Any indication that the boys were dealers?”
“I haven’t read the files, so I don’t know. I’m going to spend a couple of hours reviewing the case. You don’t have to wait up for me, but if you do, I won’t yell at you.”
Rina let out a small laugh. “I think I can manage to stay up until ten. Did you eat?”
“I’ll manage.”
“Nonsense. I’ll bring you some dinner at the station hou
se. What about Tyler?”
“He could use food. He seems hangry. Or a version of depressed-hungry. We can call it dungry.”
“He’s depressed?”
“He just finished law school. He’s a little lost.”
“He has a lot of options.”
“Sometimes it’s better not to have so many options,” Decker said. “But I’m not shedding tears over his plight.”
“You’re going to be busy with this case. Ten years old and a lot of material to cover.” She paused. “Maybe it’s a good time for me to go to New York and deal with Gabe’s issues.”
“Sure.”
“How about if I leave on Sunday?”
“Fine with me. Is Gabe still holed up with us?”
“No, he left this morning, almost as soon as you left. I’ll call him and let him know my plans.”
“Good luck.”
“I don’t mind going. No sense being home by myself.”
Decker felt a pang of guilt. “I’ll take some time off as soon as I catch my breath.”
“Oh, for goodness’ sakes, Peter, I’m perfectly fine going to the city, visiting our kids and grandchildren, and taking in a little shopping. Hannah can always use some help with the baby.”
Their youngest now had a baby of her own. It made Decker smile … and feel a little old. “How’s my princess doing?”
“Sleep deprived. She sounds like the walking dead. If time permits, I’ll go to Philadelphia and visit Cindy the next day.”
Decker’s daughter from his first marriage. It was lovely that she and Rina were friends. “She has time off?”
“Well, like her father, she’s always working on a number of big cases. I’ll give her a call. If she can make it, fine. If not, another time.”
“Where will you be staying?”
“If it’s overnight, I’ll bunk down with Sammy and Rachel and the kids. There are more bodies in their apartment in Brooklyn, but it has two bedrooms. Hannah and Rafi are still in a studio.”
“It’s a big studio.”
“It is. But when baby makes three and you have all that infant paraphernalia, no space is big enough.”
THE CASES HAD been archived. The room that held the files was dim and dusty, but the boxes were organized properly. Four of them—one for each student plus a box for anything that the three had in common. There were no coroners’ reports or crime-scene photos in the notebooks because there had been no bodies. There were long lists of interviewed people and artifacts belonging to each boy for DNA purposes. While there was a great deal of overlap, some names appeared on one list and not the others. Or some names appeared on two lists but not the remaining one. Lists of relatives, friends, teachers, interests, and anything else that may link the three boys.
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