Deadly Deception (29 page)

"You don't have to do anything.  I took care of it.  I removed all traces from your hard drive.  The issue, and it's a big one, is finding out who did this and what they've done with the information.  Who's been in this room?"

"Miriam, my maid, cleans in here once a week.  But that twit doesn't have the brain or the know-how to do anything like this."

"Who else?  One of your girlfriends?"

"It couldn't be Candace or any of the others.  Their time spent in the house is mostly in my bedroom.  I doubt if any of them even know how to use a computer.  Their interest is my money and what it can do for them."

"So there's no one else who might have come into your office?"

"No, no one," he said as he smoothed back his hair with his hand.  "Wait a minute.  The night of my dinner party, I found Lane Henderson up here standing against the wall outside my office.  I asked him what he was doing and he said he was waiting for his wife who was using the bathroom.  I told him that he was standing near the wrong room and led him to the bathroom to wait for her.  But when I came out of my bedroom, he was back outside the office door pressing his wife against the wall near my office door kissing her."

"And you didn't think that was odd?"

"Not at the time.  I thought maybe she'd come out of the bathroom and the mood had hit him in the hallway and he'd backed her up against the wall to make out.  I know I'd do the same thing every chance I got if she was mine."

"I think it'd be a good idea if I kept an eye on them — especially her, due to the fact a lipstick container was used to hide the flash drive.  A man wouldn't do that."

Dr. Caine sat silent for a moment thinking about Frankie Douglas and how much he wanted her.  He didn't want this sick freak to be anywhere near her.  But then he thought about the amount of potentially damaging information on his computer.  He'd be put away for a long, long time.

"Do it."

Chapter Nine

"Just sit down, you have to have food.  Besides, we can talk more about the case."  Frankie had nagged her uncle until he agreed to go out with them for pizza.  The Italian spices in the air had Frankie practically drooling.  Lane held her chair out for her, and then sat down himself.

The waiter took their order for a large pepperoni and mushroom pizza with extra cheese and three cold Heinekens.   They waited to talk until they were sure the waiter was out of earshot.  Tim Brennan spoke first.

"Frankie, you can't breathe a word of this to your mother or anyone else in the family.  We can't let your Aunt Megan find out about this yet.  I don't know if her heart can take it." 

Frankie watched him as he scrubbed his face with his hands.  She knew he was struggling for control.  The more calm he remained, the better for him think clearly and the better their chances of finding Jennifer.

Frankie simply nodded and looked down at her hands.  They had to find Jennifer and take her home.  They had to.  She was still trying to wrap her mind around Jennifer's pregnancy.  She hadn't realized how much she still thought of Jennifer as the child she used to carry around on her back. Now a baby was growing inside her — a baby that belonged to Paul Vance.

"What about Paul?" she asked. "Do you think he had anything to do with her disappearance?"

"Hell, yes, I do.  You know as well as I do how these cases go.  Isn't it usually the boyfriend or the husband who plays the major role in a woman’s disappearance?"

He looked at Lane.  "I want you to do a background check on Paul Vance.  I want you to question him, then talk to his friends, neighbors, guys on the football team, and anyone else you can think of.  I want his whereabouts for the last five days.  I also want to know what he's told them about Jennifer and their relationship."

"Yes, sir," Lane said. 

"Tomorrow I'll file the missing person report at the police station here in Bloomington."

"Why here?  Why can't you process it back home?" asked Frankie.

"She was discovered missing in Bloomington, so here is where I have to file it." 

He reached in the manila file he brought in with him and pulled out two slips of paper. He handed one to each of them. "Here is a photocopy of Jennifer's most recent picture. She drives a blue 2010 Honda Civic.  I've listed her license number at the bottom of the page.  If you need anything else, call me at the hotel."

"Are you going to release it to the media?" asked Lane.

"No, not yet.  Let's see what our search efforts uncover.  I hope there won't be a need for that.  I still hope we find her."  He paused as the waiter set a bottle of beer in front of each of them along with plates and silverware.  "We'll follow our usual process for a missing person.  I'll apply for a warrant for her cell phone call as well as cell tower history tomorrow."

Frankie looked down at her hands again.  It would take too long for the warrant and time was of the essence.  She and her partner, Ted had contacts at the cell phone company who would get her the information with a moment's notice.  Every second counted.  For every day Jennifer remained missing, the likelihood of finding her alive diminished.

"I want to go back and talk to her roommate again tomorrow.  I want to look around her room to see if I can find anything that might help us find her.  Frankie, I want you to check her bank account, both credit and debit activity." 

She nodded as Tim scratched notes on the manila file.  "After I do that, I'll do an Internet search and social media sites like Facebook and Twitter to see if and when she's visited and what she's communicated.  I’ll also be able to determine her circle of friends from these sites."  Frankie made a mental note to also check the hospitals and mortuaries.  It was something she didn't want her uncle to even have to think about.

"Lane, I'd like you to check the apartment and house rental agencies.  There's a chance she moved to get away from Paul," said Tim.  "I also want you to check for surveillance cameras on campus, especially near her dorm.  I'll ask her friends where she liked to go and I'll email those locations to you tomorrow."

The pizza arrived and the three ate their meal in silence.  Frankie wondered what the next day would bring. 

They were ready to leave when Tim asked Lane to get the car.  As soon as Lane left, he leaned in close to Frankie and whispered, "Remember all those times I told you to play by the rules?  Well, forget I said that.  I know your private investigative equipment is state of the art.  Use anything you can think of to bring Jennifer home.  Do you understand what I'm saying?  Go as far out of the box as you need to.  Just find her."

"So where's Jennifer Brennan?"  David stretched his arms then folded them behind his head as he rocked in the desk chair in the doctor's home office.  Dr. Caine sat behind the desk scrolling through his email messages.

"Not your concern, David."  He glowered at him then went back to his computer screen.

"You're way out of your league here, doc.  You don't know the first thing about getting rid of a problem."

"Look who's talking.  Like you did such a bang-up job with the first two problems.  You freaking idiot."  Dr. Caine's accusing voice stabbed the air.

"Don't call me names," David said.  "Where is she?"

"None of your business." 

"Do you really think you're so clever that I don't know that she's in your basement in your new locked room?"

"Stay away from her.  She's worth $100,000 to us if we wait until she gives birth.  After that, you can do whatever you want.  Just don't get caught."  Dr. Caine glared at David Chambers.  He was a loose cannon who would bring them both down if something wasn't done about him.

"Speaking of getting caught, where is her car, smart-guy?  Did she have a cell phone?  If so, where is it?  The first thing the cops will do is look for her car and get her cell phone information.  Hell, they can track her right to your front door with her cell tower history."

"Then they'll track her to the bottom of Monroe Lake."

"Are you kidding me?  Did anyone see you?"

"Not a chance."

They'd dropped off Tim at the hotel and Frankie had moved back to the passenger seat when Lane said, "Frankie, I'm going to take you home, and then I have to run an errand."

"What errand?" she asked.  He hesitated just long enough she knew he was about to lie.

"We need some groceries."

"What kind of groceries?" 

"We need milk.  We're almost out."

"No we're not. I just bought two gallons.  What are you up to, Lane?"

He sighed with frustration and pulled into a shopping plaza and parked the car. He looked at Frankie for a long moment.

"Sweetheart, how close are you to Jennifer?"

"She's my cousin, but I think of her as my baby sister.  We spent a lot of time together growing up because I babysat her. How could this have happened?"  Tears streamed freely down her cheeks. 

Lane put his arm around her.  "You're too close to this, Frankie. So is your uncle.  That's why I'm taking you home.  There's something I need to do alone."

She twisted in her seat, surprised.  "You know something, don't you?  I thought you were acting odd back at the hotel room.  What is it?  Where are you going?"

"You're too emotionally involved right now.  Trust me to do what I have to do."

"I thought you said partners weren't supposed to have secrets."

"That's a good one coming from you.  Do you really want to have that conversation we started back at the house now?  You know the one, where you were about to tell me about the surveillance you installed on Dr. Caine's computer.  Now
that
was a secret."

She met his icy glare head-on.  "We can discuss that later.  For now, I'm going with you."

"No, you're not."

Frankie showed no signs of relenting. "Yes, I am. There is no way I'm getting out of this car unless you take me with you."

"Damn it, Frankie."  He backed the car out of the parking space and back onto the road.  "Just keep your hot temper in check."

The street was lined with cars but Lane finally found a space to park the car in front of an apartment building. Frankie watched him as he scanned the row of parked cars along the street.  He acted as if he were looking for particular car that wasn't there.  He led her to an outside staircase.  Once up the stairs to the second floor, she followed him until he stopped in front of an apartment door and knocked.  No one came to the door.  He looked up and down the hallway before glancing over the railing to the first floor.