Read Dead River Online

Authors: Fredric M. Ham

Dead River (5 page)

“Stop, Val.”

Adam tried to catch her as she frantically ascended the staircase. On the way up, her elbow jarred loose one of the framed pictures, sending it airborne. It flew past Adam and first bounced on the carpeted stairs before hitting oak on the next bounce. Adam looked back and saw the fractured glass and the picture of his family cut across its center, slicing Adam’s forehead in the picture just above his eyebrows.

Suddenly the wailing R&B stopped, and Adam saw Dawn step out of her room.

“Mom, Daddy, what’s wrong?”

Now both Adam and Dawn chased after Valerie to the end of the hallway.

When Valerie reached Sara Ann’s room, she flung the door open and flicked the light switch. Adam and Dawn caught up and joined her in the center of the brightly-lit room. The three stood motionless. Adam’s eyes scanned the room, and he felt swallowed up by the silent space. Sara Ann’s room felt cold and surreal.

“Val, come on,” Adam said. “Let’s go.”

Valerie stood in the middle of the room, frozen in place. Suddenly she screamed and fell to her knees, covering her face with both hands. As she sobbed, she struggled to breathe.

Dawn was now crying as well, but she managed to help get her mother to her feet. “Daddy, what’s going on?”

Adam didn’t answer. He motioned for Dawn to take her mother’s arm.

The two slowly moved her limp body toward the master bedroom and placed her on the king-size brass bed.

Adam turned to Dawn. “Get the white blanket out of our closet.”

“Where—where’s Sara Ann?” Valerie said, choking out the words.

“Try to relax,” Adam said, stroking the side of her face with the back of his hand.

“Daddy, where is Sara Ann?”

Adam put his finger to his lips, and Dawn said no more. He shut the bedroom door and pointed down the hallway. Dawn followed him to the study.

“Sit down.”

She slowly lowered herself into the leather reading chair in the corner of the study, her teary eyes were glued to her father’s face. Adam knelt on the floor beside her.

“Daddy, what’s wrong? Something’s wrong.”

Adam clasped both of her hands. “Sara Ann’s missing.”

Dawn shook her head. “Missing?”

“I found her empty car in the driveway with the door open and the engine running.”

Tears flowed down both of Dawn’s checks and formed glistening streams on her soft skin. “We need to look for her.”

“We’ll let the police do that. They’ve been here and searched the woods around the driveway before the storm. They’re forming a large search team to go back out later.”

Leaning toward the desk Adam extended his right arm, clutching a square box of Kleenex. “Here,” he said, offering the box.

Dawn slowly pulled out two tissues and wiped away the tears, then stared at her father. Her eyes widened into ovals of denial. “Maybe she’s with Brad.” She shifted in the leather chair to directly face her father. “Yes, maybe they had a fight and they’re out somewhere making up, or—”

Adam reached out for Dawn’s forearms, shaking them gently as if he were trying to tow her back to a logical state of mind.

“No. She’s not with Brad.”

The optimism quickly faded from Dawn’s eyes, leaving them dark and hollow. Her head slumped until her chin nestled on her chest. “When will they start looking for her again?” she asked softly.

“Soon. It had better be very soon.”

 5 

ADAM CLOSELY INSPECTED the ID cards tucked in leather bi-folds held out by the two men standing outside his front door. They both read:

Criminal Investigations Division-Special Investigations Section

Orlando Police Department.

There were several pieces of equipment at their feet.

“I’m Detective Robert Averly and this is Detective Peter Carillo,” the blond-haired man stated with resonating authority. “We’re here for the wiretap.”

Adam finished his inspection of the IDs and nodded his acceptance. The two men flicked their ID bi-folds shut and stuffed them into their inside coat pockets. Beside Averly stood a stocky, bald man sporting a thick, salt-and-pepper mustache. He was the shorter of the two men, standing poised like a boxer, his dark brown eyes darting about.

“Come in,” Adam offered.

The two men carried in the equipment, which included what appeared to be a small suitcase. They placed the gear on the tile inside the door.

Averly explained how they would set up the wiretap, punctuating almost every word with some sort of hand gesture. His wavy blond hair shook loose as he spoke, dusting his forehead. Occasionally he smoothed it back into place. As he leaned forward pointing toward the equipment at their feet, his sportcoat stretched to the limit, and his steel-framed glasses dug into the sides of his large head. Leaning further, his already rosy face transitioned to a rich crimson.

“Why’s your police department doing the wiretap?” Adam asked. “I thought the sheriff’s department or the FDLE would do this.”

“Good question, Mr. Riley,” Detective Averly said, looking in Detective Carillo’s direction then back toward Adam. “The answer is simple. Our section of the Criminal Investigations Division specializes in missing children.”

Adam nodded. He definitely wanted the specialists handling this.

Averly walked over to an arched entrance leading out of the foyer and peered inside. “This your living room?”

Adam joined him at the entrance. “Yes.”

Like the rest of the house, the living room was warmly decorated in earth tones: various shades of beige, cobblestone brown, light olive green, and what the decorating consultant, Priscilla Barrymore at Ethan Allen, referred to as natural eggshell. Adam couldn’t resist asking her during the in-store consultation: “Do you have an unnatural eggshell”? A polite but unamused smile was offered as a reply.

“Do you use your living room much, Mr. Riley?” Averly asked.

“Not as much as our family room. Is this where you want to set up your equipment?”

“If you don’t mind. But I don’t see a phone. Is there a phone jack in here somewhere?”

Adam pointed across the room. “There’s one over there—by that end table. Go ahead and use the room if you like.”

Averly nodded. Carillo asked where all the phones were in the house. Adam gave him the five locations. Averly said he was going outside to check where the phone line came into the house, and Carillo began setting up the equipment, which included a notebook computer, his own folding table, chair, and telephone, a pair of headphones, a tape recorder, and several other components in gray metal boxes that Adam didn’t recognize. A few minutes later Averly returned, joining Carillo in the living room.

Carillo made the final connections to the equipment and then tested the entire system. Adam and Averly looked on in silence. Finally the bald detective stepped back, surveyed the whole rig one last time, and gave Averly a thumbs-up.

Averly turned to Adam. “Mr. Riley, I need your entire family to join us here in the living room,” he said, as he adjusted his pants at the waist. “I want to go over some procedures, and your entire family needs to be aware of what’s going on.”

“My older daughter and wife are upstairs, but I don’t think my wife’s in any shape to come down right now,” Adam explained. “I put her to bed earlier. She’s taking this pretty hard.”

“Okay then, have your daughter come down and join us. You’ll have to fill your wife in later.”

Adam introduced Dawn, and then the two settled into the beige leather couch in the living room and clasped hands. Carillo sat in the matching chair angled beside the couch. Averly started detailing what was expected of the family, the dos and don’ts for an effective wiretap.

“Now if someone calls, talk in a calm and non-threatening tone, and —”

All four jerked in unison as the phone rang.

Adam froze, and Dawn gripped her father’s arm with both hands. Carillo leapt from his chair and headed for the equipment. He flipped up the notebook screen and donned his headphones. Averly swung his body around and faced the small table covered with equipment.

The phone rang again.

Adrenaline surged through Adam’s body, and his head pounded. Dawn’s fingers dug into her father’s arm, but Adam barely noticed.

“Answer the phone here, Mr. Riley,” Carillo said, as he pointed to the phone on the table.

Adam slowly raised himself off the couch. Adrenaline spears were still flying.

The third ring sounded and rattled around inside Adam’s head.

He finally reached the phone. He lifted the receiver to his ear. “Hello.”

Only silence on the other end.

“Hello,” Adam said again.

“Hello, Adam?”

The fear that gripped Adam washed away and was replaced with annoyance as he glanced at Carillo.

“Yes, Jessica,” Adam said, “this is Adam.”

Dawn let out the breath she was holding, and Averly looked puzzled. Carillo motioned to Adam to continue talking.

Adam palmed the phone’s receiver and continued to look toward Carillo. “It’s my neighbor,” he whispered.

Averly snapped his fingers to get Adam’s attention. Adam turned. “Tell her everything’s fine,” Averly said softly.

Adam nodded.

“I was calling to see if everything’s all right,” Jessica said. “I saw the police cars earlier.”

“Sure, Jessica, everything’s okay.”

“Did you find Sara Ann?”

Adam paused a few seconds, trying to dislodge the lump in this throat. “She’s out somewhere.”

“Well, good. You know, I got real concerned earlier when you were here and asked if I’d seen her. You know, the last time I saw her was Thursday. I was walking Mr. Ruggles and saw Sara Ann in the car with that boy she sees—”

“Yes, Jessica, you told me,” Adam interrupted.

“Well anyway, after you left I went outside and took Mr. Ruggles with me. You know he’ll only go outside in the summer when there’s no sun. So since it was cloudy I took him with me and walked down the driveway to the road. But the thunder scared him so we had to go back to the house.”

Carillo raised his right index finger and twirled it around, indicating for Adam to continue talking.

“Yes, Jessica. The thunder scared Mr. Ruggles.”

“That’s right. So when we got back to the house I called Sara Ann, but she didn’t answer.”

“What? You called Sara Ann?”

“Yes.”

“On her cell phone?”

“Yes, I thought I did, but she didn’t answer. It was a man’s voice.”

Adam shook his head as he rolled his eyes back and then looked over at Averly. “That was me, Jessica.”

“It was?”

“Yes, it was. Did you try calling again right away?”

“Yes, I did. But a man answered.”

Adam sighed hard. “That was me, Jessica.”

“Oh.”

“Did you use your cell phone or your regular phone to call Sara Ann?”

“I used my cell phone.”

Adam nodded at both detectives. “Do you know if Harry has the caller ID blocked on your phone?”

“The what?”

Peter Carillo gave a thumbs-up indicating he had a trace.

“Jessica, I’ve got to go now.”

“Okay. Tell Sara Ann to come by and see me sometime.”

“I will.”

“I got a trace,” Carillo said. “The equipment’s working fine.”

“What’s with the call to your daughter’s cell phone?” Averly asked Adam.

“When I went to the end of the driveway earlier today to wait for the police, Sara Ann’s phone rang in her car,” Adam explained. “It was Mrs. Cleveland, our neighbor, trying to locate Sara Ann.”

Averly half-shrugged his shoulders and continued with his instructions. “As I was saying, if someone calls, talk in a non-threatening tone.”

“Should I answer the phone?” Adam asked.

“Either you or your wife can; however, don’t let your daughter answer.”

Dawn furrowed her brow and stared at the detective.

“You will probably get phone calls from friends and relatives, like the last one,” Averly said, as he pointed toward the phone. “They’ll want to talk about what has happened, but try not to talk too long. Sara Ann’s disappearance will probably make the late news tonight, and unless we find her, tomorrow it will be a major story,” he said with a sardonic tone.

“Isn’t that good?” Adam asked.

“Sure it’s good because they’ll run the story on the news and show your daughter’s picture.”

“Right.”

“But—”

“But what?”

Averly took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Look, Mr. Riley, if your daughter isn’t found soon the media will be all over this place. They’ll be a major inconvenience and annoyance to your family. And many times they get in our way. All in all, they’re a big pain.”

“I understand.”

Other books

Guilty of Love by Pat Simmons
Scorched Edges by L.M. Somerton
A Pizza to Die For by Chris Cavender
Mr Tongue by Honeycutt, JK