“Then he must really want to do it.” She paused. “But you’re not as enthusiastic about the change.”
“Oh no. It’s fine.” She couldn’t very well voice to this woman, this stranger, her greatest fear. That this career switch was a symptom of a bigger thing. That Gabe would suddenly decide he was in a marriage he didn’t hate, but why not shake it up for the hell of it? She couldn’t tell this woman that she was a little freaked out because he was growing his hair long and he’d started reading dystopian fiction. She’d sound like a nut. She pulled the door open. “I intend to visit with your sister, Maggie. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell her about our conversation.” She wanted Maggie’s own recollection of the evening and all conversations, not one that had been influenced by Patrice saying, here’s what I told her.
“Maggie is out of the country. Three weeks in France.”
Rena wanted to be Maggie. “When is she expected back?”
“Monday of next week.”
If they hadn’t found Emma Whitman by then, it was going to be pretty grim. “Thank you,” she said.
Rena walked to her car, started it and called A.L. She got his voice mail. She waited for the beep. “I have confirmation that there was conversation about Corrine Antler at the cookout that Alice Quest attended in July. Call me.” She hung up.
Sixteen
A.L. saw Rena’s call come in but let it go to voice mail.
He was in the process of dialing Devin Raine, Leah’s boss at the law firm who had failed to call him back after he’d left a second message late last night. If the guy didn’t answer this time, A.L. was going to be pissed.
It was answered on the second ring. Lucky for Mr. Raine.
“This is Devin,” he said.
“Mr. Raine, this is Detective McKittridge with the Baywood Police Department. I’ve left a couple messages.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
“I’d like to have a minute of your time so that I could ask you some questions.”
“About?”
Mr. Raine was definitely an attorney. He wasn’t going to agree to anything until he had more information. “About Leah Whitman. I understand that you’re her supervising attorney at Bailey Shepherd.”
“I am. I would...uh...be happy to chat with you, Detective. I’d prefer to do it in person and I have to admit that I’m a bit rank right now. I’ve been part of the search team and it’s been a hot few hours. If you can give me time for a quick shower, I’d be happy to meet you at the coffee shop on the corner of White Avenue and Mercy Street.”
A.L. knew the place. A lot of cops stopped there for a cup of joe. “Fine. Shall we say forty-five minutes?”
“I’ll wear a blue shirt,” Devin said.
“Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”
He’d already had one cup of coffee before Devin Raine walked in. He waved at the man. Got a nod in return. Devin didn’t head for the table. Instead he stepped into line. It was another seven minutes before he made his way over, with some sort of iced coffee. He extended his free hand. “Detective McKittridge?” he said.
“Yes.” A.L. passed him over a business card. “Thanks for seeing me. How was the search today?”
“Warm,” Devin said. “And pretty depressing if you want the truth,” he added. “We’re miles away from the day care at this point.”
A.L. had been reading the daily updates. The numbers of volunteers were dwindling. Today they’d had forty-two. Still a respectable number but by next week, they’d likely be in the twenties. People had to go back to their lives.
Every day that Emma remained missing it became less and less likely that she’d be found alive. Those were the hard facts. Maybe nobody was saying it but every cop knew it. He suspected by now that Leah and Troy Whitman had also stumbled across the statistics online.
In a few days, they’d even change out the canine unit. Would definitely add more dogs that were specifically trained to find human remains. “I stopped by your office yesterday, spent a little time with Ms. Pistolle. She told me you’d be the best person to talk to if I had questions specific to Leah Whitman.”
Devin said nothing.
“What can you tell me about her work?” A.L. asked.
“It’s good. She’s very talented. Asks the right questions. Works hard. Stays late when we need her to.”
“Speaking of work hours, can you tell me what time she got in this past Wednesday?”
“The day Emma went missing?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t say exactly but I know that she was there by 10:00. We were both in the conference room on a call. I remember that night, when I heard the news, I couldn’t get it out of my head that she’d been sitting there, helping me negotiate communal property, in a contentious divorce, when her own child was at risk. It just felt surreal in retrospect.”
By ten. That pretty much matched what Leah had said and what the video at the casino had confirmed. “She get along with her coworkers?”
“Leah is a nice person. She’s easy to get along with.”
“So there’s nobody at work that she’s had any issues with?” A.L. asked.
“There were words, recently, between her and my other paralegal. Martha has been there longer and was upset that Leah got promoted to a senior paralegal. She seemed to believe the promotion should have gone to her.”
“But you didn’t think so.”
“I don’t think you award tenure. You award performance and attitude.”
“What’s Martha’s last name?” A.L. asked.
“I’m not sure why that’s important,” Devin said.
“I’m going to want to follow up with Martha. Right now we’re looking at anybody who might have a beef with either Leah or her husband, Troy, and want to take it out on their kid.”
“Martha wouldn’t do that. She was angry, maybe a little hurt, and she said some things she should not have said. Leah didn’t even bring it to my attention. It was overheard by someone else who told their boss who came to me. I addressed it with Martha and it’s over. I want it to be over. I don’t like dissension on my team.”
He was probably a good guy who liked it when everybody played nice. Unfortunately, that wasn’t how the real world worked. “Martha?” A.L. asked again, pen in hand.
“Martha Johnston.”