This was real. This was happening.
Anticipating more news coverage this morning, he was fearful of seeing a tarp covering Jenn. I can’t let Jake see his mother like that. We can’t go through this again.
Greg reached for his phone and made a call.
As it rang, he moved to the front of his house, driving his free hand through his hair when Holly Wiley answered.
“Holly, it’s Greg. Sorry it’s so early, but I need a favor.”
“No problem. We’re up. What is it?”
“Could you take Jake? Keep him out of school today? Something’s happening.”
“Of course, I’ll take Jake. What’s going on?”
Greg watched a Buffalo TV news truck and another van turn down his street.
“Greg? Is everything okay?”
“Some news is breaking. Media are coming to the house. It could be bad, Holly.”
“Oh no—”
“Can you come get Jake? Come through the back way?”
“Yes, I’m on my way. Be there in five.”
“Thank you. And Holly, keep him outside, away from any news, please.”
“I will. Nate’s off today and I’ll keep Carter home, too. What is it? What’s happening?”
“I don’t know. I’m trying to find out.”
Greg turned. Jake was dressed, walking downstairs to the kitchen table.
“Who’re you talking to, Dad?”
“Carter’s mom.” Greg fixed Jake a bowl of cereal, went to the fridge for milk. “I’ve got some things to do today, so how would you like to go to Carter’s and fly your drone there? Maybe make a video with your phone?”
“What about school?”
“Carter’s staying home today and I’ll keep you out today, too.”
“Why?”
“Something’s come up. I’ll call the office.”
Jake hesitated before saying: “Okay, Dad.”
He returned to crunching on his cereal. Carter had a big backyard. Jake would be able to fly higher and get a better view with his drone. Something he’d wanted to do ever since he got it. Greg made toast for both of them, and they ate together at the table.
“When you finish eating, brush your teeth. Carter’s mom is on her way over to get you.”
The front doorbell rang, and Jake moved to get it.
“Don’t answer,” Greg said. “It’s reporters again.”
Jake strained to see the front windows, then looked at his dad while they finished eating. Jake sensed something was happening.
Kids could read the truth in the air.
Eighty-Four
Buffalo, New York, Trailside Grove
After Holly and Carter left with Jake down the back way to their house, Greg turned on the TV, grabbed his phone, and searched online.
Starting with local outlets, the Buffalo News had just posted a breaking story with the headline: Suspect Arrested In Missing Trailside Mom Case.
The item was short. Greg raced through it, reading of yesterday’s arrest of Zoran Volk, a cable repair contractor, at his residence in the North Buffalo area. He was taken to state police barracks in Clarence for questioning. A grainy video recorded by a neighbor showing SWAT team members putting Volk in handcuffs accompanied the story.
All the blood drained from Greg’s face.
Jenn had been home when a cable guy came to the house a couple months before.
He swallowed hard. The doorbell rang; his phone vibrated with more requests from news reporters. Greg didn’t respond. Instead, he texted Claire Kozak again.
It’s Greg Griffin. Media says arrest made? What’s happening?
Sorry, can’t talk now.
PLEASE! I’M BEGGING YOU. DID CABLE GUY KILL JENN?
Kozak didn’t respond.
Greg texted: IS SHE DEAD IN ELK CREEK?
Kozak didn’t respond.
Greg texted: WILL GO THERE IF YOU DON’T ANSWER!!
Another moment passed before Kozak responded.
Don’t go. Stay home. Hold on, Greg.
Eighty-Five
Clarence, New York
Carillo got Storemer’s coffee, muttering as he set it on the table before him, the contents swaying dangerously to the brim.
“So what’s your evidence?” Kozak said after texting with Greg Griffin and putting her phone down.
Storemer drank some coffee then held up a USB key. “This is my client’s, what I retrieved from the golf course.”
Storemer inserted it into his laptop.
“It was recorded from the dash-mounted camera of his van the night Jennifer Griffin disappeared. It’s date-stamped. Your forensic team will authenticate it.”
He typed a few commands then turned his laptop to them.
“This view is while traveling east on Ripple Valley Boulevard.”
The screen came alive with the point of view of a vehicle moving through Ripplewood Creek at night, past the colorful signs of Trader Joe’s, the Citizen Bank, the Rite Aid, the town hall, moving beyond its commercial center, past the Bluebird Retirement Manor and Wood Creek Apartments, then beyond the houses lining the boulevard, leaving the developed area.
The headlights switched to high beams as it entered the long curving stretch through the woods, illuminating the lonely road and the trees of the thick forests towering on either side.
Suddenly, there emerged the taillights of vehicles on the shoulder of the road ahead, and Volk’s van slows, the camera recording showing the first vehicle to be a white van, bright red and blue emergency lights pulsing in what appears to be a police traffic stop.
Volk’s van slows to a near crawl. The dash-mounted camera turns so it captures the stopped vehicle, a Corolla. It zooms to the driver. The interior dome light is on, illuminating a woman behind the wheel, who, for a split second, looks at the camera.
Jennifer Griffin.
The camera continues recording through the night. Storemer accelerates as it shows Volk never stopping, driving through the city, parking in his driveway in the North Buffalo area, leaving the camera on until the sun rises the next day, proving he had nothing to do with Jennifer Griffin’s disappearance.
Kozak flicked a glance to Carillo.
Both of them thinking the same thing.
It’s a cop.