Read Online 18th Abduction (Women's Murder Club) by James Patterson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: James Patterson
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Tuohy had said she was turning tricks—not what I’d thought Barry meant by “dark side.”
Was this possible? Schoolteacher by day, whore by night?
Karin Slaughter, the assistant dean, was Carly’s friend. She would have rung the bell if Carly were using drugs. Carly’s parents weren’t wealthy but surely could have helped her out if she couldn’t make do on her $70K annual salary. As far as I could tell, she had a safety net. So—why turn to prostitution?
In fact, we had only Jake Tuohy’s word for that.
Similarly, Adele and Susan had friends, jobs, parents. They, too, seemed to have safety nets. But you never knew what was going on beneath the surface. Had their support systems failed?
Were they alive, in mortal danger? Or were they in similar creepy motel rooms, hanged by their necks, as yet undiscovered?
The search warrants for all three of the women’s apartments had been executed, and no additional phones, laptops, or tablets had been found.
I had interviewed Adele’s roommate, Patricia Sanders, who was torn up by fear. She had no idea what could havehappened to her friend. According to Patricia, Adele had left for work on Monday morning, running late. She’d said she was going out for dinner and thrown a kiss as she raced out the door.
The roommate confirmed that Adele carried her phone and a laptop in a shoulder bag.
CSI had the electronics, and so far nothing had jumped out of them, making it more certain that the women had been nabbed by a person or persons they hadn’t known.
At the same time, there had been no ransom notes or calls to any of the women’s parents, and the hounds hadn’t picked up a scent of any of the three women beyond the Bridge’s parking lot.
If this was an abduction, how had it happened? By force? Willingly? And if willingly, what had the kidnapper used to bait the hook?
My shoes were off and lined up under the coatrack.
Martha was wriggling in front of my knees and telling me she’d missed me. I grabbed her up and kissed her and snuggled her. After telling my sweet doggy girl how much I loved her, I went into the living room to find Joe.
CHAPTER 27
I found my Joe reclined in his big chair, papers stacked around him, his laptop open on his thighs, and deep in sleep.
It was after ten o’clock and I wanted to sleep, too, but I wanted to talk to Joe more. Maybe my own special agent would see a flaw in my reasoning or a door I hadn’t opened.
I called his name, walked over, and kissed his head, and he started awake.
“Joe, honey,” I said. “I really need to talk to you.”
He righted his chair into a sitting position and said, “I really need to talk to you, too. In fact, I may need to talk to you more.”
“You first,” I said to my man. “But I have a confession. I stink.”
“Do not.”
“Do.”
By the time I’d showered, gotten into pj’s, and made hamand mayo sandwiches with tea for two, Joe was back with Martha from their nighttime walk around the block.
I brought our dinner over to the coffee table, and Joe and I relaxed into the inviting embrace of the long leather sofa. I urged Joe to start talking. And he did.
“It’s about Anna,” he said. “Anna is the woman I met sitting on Golden Gate Avenue.”
“I know who you mean.”
“Well, here’s the thing. I didn’t open a case file on her that night. She looked like she’d been through hell, and I was right. In fact, I didn’t know a fraction of it. So I said ‘screw protocol’ and gave her a lift home.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad, Joe. You can walk the protocol back, right?”
Joe picked up his sandwich, looked at it as though he’d never seen such a thing before, and put it back down on the plate.
“I should have done it before I started investigating Slobodan Petrović. I didn’t know if Anna’s story was for real or if she was having flashbacks to the nightmare of nightmares. If I’d opened a file, she would have had to meet with a duty officer and she
Was this possible? Schoolteacher by day, whore by night?
Karin Slaughter, the assistant dean, was Carly’s friend. She would have rung the bell if Carly were using drugs. Carly’s parents weren’t wealthy but surely could have helped her out if she couldn’t make do on her $70K annual salary. As far as I could tell, she had a safety net. So—why turn to prostitution?
In fact, we had only Jake Tuohy’s word for that.
Similarly, Adele and Susan had friends, jobs, parents. They, too, seemed to have safety nets. But you never knew what was going on beneath the surface. Had their support systems failed?
Were they alive, in mortal danger? Or were they in similar creepy motel rooms, hanged by their necks, as yet undiscovered?
The search warrants for all three of the women’s apartments had been executed, and no additional phones, laptops, or tablets had been found.
I had interviewed Adele’s roommate, Patricia Sanders, who was torn up by fear. She had no idea what could havehappened to her friend. According to Patricia, Adele had left for work on Monday morning, running late. She’d said she was going out for dinner and thrown a kiss as she raced out the door.
The roommate confirmed that Adele carried her phone and a laptop in a shoulder bag.
CSI had the electronics, and so far nothing had jumped out of them, making it more certain that the women had been nabbed by a person or persons they hadn’t known.
At the same time, there had been no ransom notes or calls to any of the women’s parents, and the hounds hadn’t picked up a scent of any of the three women beyond the Bridge’s parking lot.
If this was an abduction, how had it happened? By force? Willingly? And if willingly, what had the kidnapper used to bait the hook?
My shoes were off and lined up under the coatrack.
Martha was wriggling in front of my knees and telling me she’d missed me. I grabbed her up and kissed her and snuggled her. After telling my sweet doggy girl how much I loved her, I went into the living room to find Joe.
CHAPTER 27
I found my Joe reclined in his big chair, papers stacked around him, his laptop open on his thighs, and deep in sleep.
It was after ten o’clock and I wanted to sleep, too, but I wanted to talk to Joe more. Maybe my own special agent would see a flaw in my reasoning or a door I hadn’t opened.
I called his name, walked over, and kissed his head, and he started awake.
“Joe, honey,” I said. “I really need to talk to you.”
He righted his chair into a sitting position and said, “I really need to talk to you, too. In fact, I may need to talk to you more.”
“You first,” I said to my man. “But I have a confession. I stink.”
“Do not.”
“Do.”
By the time I’d showered, gotten into pj’s, and made hamand mayo sandwiches with tea for two, Joe was back with Martha from their nighttime walk around the block.
I brought our dinner over to the coffee table, and Joe and I relaxed into the inviting embrace of the long leather sofa. I urged Joe to start talking. And he did.
“It’s about Anna,” he said. “Anna is the woman I met sitting on Golden Gate Avenue.”
“I know who you mean.”
“Well, here’s the thing. I didn’t open a case file on her that night. She looked like she’d been through hell, and I was right. In fact, I didn’t know a fraction of it. So I said ‘screw protocol’ and gave her a lift home.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad, Joe. You can walk the protocol back, right?”
Joe picked up his sandwich, looked at it as though he’d never seen such a thing before, and put it back down on the plate.
“I should have done it before I started investigating Slobodan Petrović. I didn’t know if Anna’s story was for real or if she was having flashbacks to the nightmare of nightmares. If I’d opened a file, she would have had to meet with a duty officer and she
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