“We need a few minutes of your time. The first floor conference room has been reserved for us.”
That seemed to get Hanzel’s attention. “Okay. Uh...let me just get a pen and paper.”
Had probably been drilled into his head—never go to a meeting without pen and paper. They waited while he found a yellow legal pad and a nice-looking pen. They motioned for him to lead the way.
When they got there, A.L. realized that somebody had already put a carafe of hot coffee and cups in the center of the table. Tamara Federer got things done. He liked that. He poured a cup for himself and Rena. Offered one to Steven but the man shook his head.
“Steven, with your permission, I’d like to record this conversation.” A.L. set his cell phone between him and Hanzel. “Is that okay?”
“I guess.”
He switched on the record function. “This is Detective McKittridge and Detective Morgan speaking with Steven Hanzel. Today’s date is Monday, September 14, and we are speaking in the first floor conference room of the Baywood Bank. Mr. Hanzel has agreed to have this conversation recorded.” A.L. picked up his pen.
“Steven,” A.L. said, “I want to talk to you about the personal relationship you have with Kara Wiese.”
“Um...who said that we have a personal relationship?” Steven tapped his own pen against his paper.
“We have you on video this morning at the park. Meeting Kara. It looked rather personal.”
Hanzel scratched his head. “We’re good friends. Okay, more than friends. No law against that, right?”
“She’s married,” A.L. said.
“Well, that’s not going to last.”
“How long has the relationship been going on?” Rena asked.
“Five, six months,” Hanzel said.
“You’re good friends with Troy Whitman, right?” A.L. asked.
He looked surprised at the quick change in topic. “You know I am.”
“You’re also his loan officer?”
“I’m a loan officer who has helped a lot of people secure financing.”
Not according to his supervisor. “But you took a special interest in helping Troy. He’s your friend and when he needed financing and his numbers didn’t quite hit the mark, you went ahead and made sure he got the financing. Because that’s what friends do. And then when his daughter suddenly went missing, you didn’t miss a beat. You got a fund-raising page set up so quickly. In fact, once we look at your search history on your computer, I’ll bet you researched how to set up a site even before Emma Whitman disappeared.”
It was a wild-ass guess but A.L. was pretty confident he wasn’t far off when Hanzel seemed to sway in his seat.
“I don’t understand your point, Detective,” Hanzel said. He pulled at the collar of his nice white shirt.
“My point is, your job is on the line here. You know it. You’ve received multiple warnings about your job performance. If you were to have another big loan default, it might look bad for you.”
A.L. took a drink of his coffee and set the cup down hard. “I think that you know that your friend Troy Whitman is close to defaulting on his loan. I think you and Kara Wiese figured out a way to have his daughter disappear and get an influx of cash for Troy.”
“How would I know that his business is about to go under? Troy always tells me that everything is fine. That’s what he tells everybody.”
“Because I just talked to Travis Whitman, Troy’s older brother. The two of you are friends. Maybe even better friends than you and Troy. He confirmed with me that you did know, that he told you that Troy was borrowing money from the Savayanah brothers.” A.L. pushed his coffee cup aside. “Steven, you are under arrest in connection with the disappearance of Emma Whitman.” A.L. then read him his rights. He didn’t want the guy to lawyer up but he didn’t want anything to derail a conviction, either.
When Steven Hanzel didn’t immediately ask for representation, A.L. decided it was time to hit him hard. “Where is Emma Whitman?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t want to know,” he said. “I had nothing to do with taking Emma. Nothing. Kara took care of all of that. But it’s going to be fine. Emma is coming home today. This is all going to be over.”
Kara had likely acted to help her lover save his job. Now said lover was throwing her under the bus.
Rena reached for her phone. Texted a message to Chief Faster. By the time she and A.L. got back to their desks, Kara Wiese would be there, ready for questioning.
“How do you know that?” A.L. demanded.
“That’s what Kara and I were talking about this morning.”
“Who has Emma?” A.L. yelled.
“Kara’s sister,” Steven said.
“She doesn’t have a sister,” Rena said.
“She does,” Steven said. “Listen, I want a lawyer. I’m done talking to you.”
* * *
Kara Wiese had been read her rights and she’d immediately requested an attorney. One was coming. And A.L. was about to climb the walls. He’d had numerous cups of coffee, no food and no sleep. And they were so fucking close.
Emma was alive. Or at least had been when Steven had talked to Kara Wiese this morning. And supposedly the plan was to return Emma. All that was good, but things like this could go south in a hurry when people got nervous. And with the arrests of both Steven Hanzel and Kara Wiese, there was no telling what the sister, whoever that was, might do. If they lost Emma now, it would break people.
Kara’s attorney arrived. He didn’t recognize the woman. Salina St. John. It sounded like a made-up name. He quite frankly didn’t even care if she was a real attorney. He gave Ms. St. John five minutes with her client. Then he and Rena knocked on the door.
“Time is of the essence here, Counselor,” he said.
“I understand,” she said. “My client has had an opportunity to reflect on previous conversations that she may have had with you and recognizes that she might not have been absolutely forthcoming. Should she provide a more detailed and accurate statement, would there be consideration of that when charges are filed?”
“If we are able to locate Emma and she’s safe, then I will tell whoever is interested that there was no further delay. That’s the best I can do right now.”
Attorney and client exchanged a glance. Kara leaned forward. “There was never any intention for Emma to be hurt. She has not been hurt. She’s been cared for and comforted.”
“Where is she?” A.L. asked, his voice hard. “I want an address.”