A.L. closed the distance between him and Chuck. “Another five-year-old girl disappeared in very similar circumstances in Baywood this past Wednesday. We have an eyewitness who put Coyote Frogg in the vicinity the previous night.”
“Well, fuck me,” Chuck said. “Sorry,” he added, again in Rena’s direction. “I’ve been out of the country on business this past week, just got home late last night. I’m behind in my news. But now something makes sense. I got an email yesterday asking for a contribution. I only glanced at it but I did see that it came from a guy I know in Baywood. His bank and my investment company are owned by the same holding company. We cross-sell a few products.”
“What’s his name?” Rena asked.
“Steven Hanzel.”
“Are the two of you friends?” Rena asked.
“No. We have common friends. He’s...let’s just say, I’m a happily married guy and when I travel, I’m in my hotel room by 8:00, alone.”
“And he’s not.”
“That’s what people say. But I guess this shows that he’s an okay guy. I mean, he’s reaching out pretty broadly to raise money for a good cause.” He paused. “I just can’t get my head around the fact that the Coyote Frogg that I knew could have anything to do with a missing child. But believe me, if I had any information about him, I’d tell you. I got three kids. Anybody who hurts a child isn’t even human and I’d be the first person to step on them in the street.”
A.L. and Rena both handed Chuck a card. “Please call us if you remember anything else that might be helpful,” A.L. said.
Ten minutes later, Rena spread butter on her strawberry French toast. She loved places that served breakfast all day. A.L. had gone for the more traditional burger and fries for lunch.
A.L. drank his coffee.
“Ten years ago, Doug Franklin documented that Coyote Frogg was not in contact with his mother.”
“He was nineteen at the time. Maybe this conversation between Coyote and Chuck occurred after that. If Chuck was a sophomore, the two young men might have been twenty.”
“Do we contact Dusty?”
“I don’t know if it’s worth it.”
“Faster isn’t going to be happy with what we’ve got,” Rena said.
“We can’t manufacture facts,” A.L. said. “But you’re right, if there is one stone left unturned, Faster will use it to bash us over the head. I’ll reach out to Dusty.”
“Okay. I think we need to get back to Baywood.”
“Maybe swing by Troy and Leah’s house. Check in,” he said. “Still have to talk to Leah’s employer, too.”
“Maybe you could do that and I’m going to start calling the parents who dropped their kids off around the same time. We already have talked to those in Emma’s class who fall into that group but we need to look broader, at the other classroom. Those parents would have been going in and coming out of the main lobby area around the same time as Elaine Broadstreet. Maybe they saw something.”
“That’s fine. Although the times don’t always make sense on the sheets.” A.L. opened the file folder near his right hand. “For example. Here’s the sign-in sheet from the other room. First parent signs that they dropped their kid in at 7:07. Next one at 7:12. Next one at 7:10.”
Rena shrugged. “Slow watch. In a hurry. Bad with details. A thousand reasons.”
“Sloppy system, that’s all I’m saying,” A.L. said.
“I suspect Alice Quest will be instituting a whole host of new and improved systems in the coming weeks. Maybe she was sloppy. Maybe just casual. Because she thought that would be enough.” But now a kid was missing and every detail of her operation was under scrutiny.
“There were holes in her processes but I think she genuinely cares about the kids and their parents,” A.L. said.
“Yeah. And if we don’t find Emma, her life is never going to be the same.”
“Fuck that,” A.L. said. “You were part of the conversation with Marcus Page. If we don’t find her, none of our lives are ever going to be the same.”
Eleven
Ten minutes after A.L. and Rena had arrived back in Baywood and gone their separate ways, A.L. had his hands full. With a crying woman.
Not any of the women regularly in his life. A woman that he’d never met until three minutes ago. But she was clearly having a bad day and he was maybe the worst person in the world to offer assistance.
“I’m sorry. I can’t stop crying. I have a five-year-old daughter and I just can’t imagine what the Whitmans are going through. Leah is such an important part of our family.”
In this case, the family was the Bailey Shepherd Law Firm. A.L. nodded at the receptionist. “I can come back.”
“No, no. If I can help in anyway, I want to. I do. Let me page her.”
Her was the human resources manager, who was apparently not in her office.
“Oh, God.” Julia Spear reached for more tissues. He knew her name because she had a big gold nameplate. “No, just wait,” she said.
She punched some keys on her desk phone and seconds later, it rang. “There’s a detective here to see you. It’s about Leah,” she whispered. Not quite softly enough that he didn’t hear it. She hung up. “Greta will be right here.”
“What’s Greta’s last name?”
“Greta Pistolle. I thinks that’s French.”
As long as she spoke English, he was going to be happy. He wandered a few feet away from the reception desk, afraid that if he stayed too close, his proximity might prompt more tears.
Greta Pistolle was midforties. She wore a dark business suit and a white blouse. He sensed a rather no-nonsense attitude as she approached, so he was a little surprised when she took a minute to stop at the desk and check on Julia. “Take a few minutes,” she told the woman gently.
Then she approached. “Detective McKittridge, I’m Greta Pistolle, the human resources manager here at Bailey Shepherd. Let’s go to my office.”
Once there, with her behind the desk and him sitting in front of it, she offered up a smile. “Julia is an excellent receptionist with a very kind heart. The type who sends cards to the rest of us when our pets are ill or hurt.”
Before Felix, he’d have laughed at that. Now, he realized it would be hard if the cat was in a bad way.
“Obviously, this issue with Leah and her family is far more serious so she’s having a little trouble coping,” Greta said. “Now, what can I help you with?”