Read Online The Truant Officer by Derek Ciccone - Free Book Online
Authors: Derek Ciccone
Tags: General Fiction
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murder suspect in exchange for an exclusive interview.”
“That’s right— Killer Sex .”
“Maybe I should try that method to get some of these Russian thugs to talk,” Dava made a rare joke.
Eicher knew that a lifetime supply of sex and vodka couldn’t get the Russian mobsters they dealt with to talk. “I’m just worried that history is repeating itself—missing wife, interview by a pool, Jessi Stafford...”
“You think the husband could be involved?”
“When it comes to Viktor Sarvydas, I don’t rule anything or anyone out, especially the most unlikely scenario.”
Dava refocused on the screen. “It must be nice to go through life looking like a Barbie doll—no lack of second chances—I would have thought the Callahan thing would be a career killer.”
“Kind of like ours if we don’t find Nick real soon.”
Lilly McLaughlin’s husband, who according to LaPoint was either sadly naïve or the greatest actor of his generation, looked solemnly into the camera. “My name is Darren McLaughlin. Last night, my wife Lilly was abducted while pumping gas at a station here in Chandler.”
Jessi cued the video. And for maybe the thousandth time since last night, Eicher watched Nick roll out from under the SUV and force Lilly McLaughlin into the back at knifepoint. The only positive was that he had worn his bank-robber chic outfit—a black Under Armour body suit and stocking over his head—so he couldn’t be identified, even when Eicher used advanced FBI technology to zoom in close enough to see if he had a zit on his nose. But Eicher could spot Nick’s movements three-thousand-miles away. He had no doubts it was him. And worried that Sarvydas could do the same.
The camera zeroed in on two framed photos that Darren held up for the world to see. Eicher winced at the happy wedding photo. He could almost picture a Sarvydas bull’s-eye on the bride. The other photo was a vacation shot. Once again, they looked happy. Of course, so did Eicher and his wife at one time.
Darren’s voice cracked again as he spoke, “Lilly is five-foot-four with dark hair and brown eyes and was last seen in a silver Lexus SUV. She teaches English at South Chandler High. We have been married for four-and-a-half years and hope to start a family some day. If you have seen her, or even think you might have, please, I beg you, please call the number listed on the screen below. Your call will be anonymous.”
“Lilly is my life…” he continued, before breaking down, blubbering his words as tears streamed down his face.
While it seemed sincere to Eicher, he doubted it would have a happy ending, no matter how it turned out.
As McLaughlin wiped his tears and tried to gather himself, Jessi jolted him, “That is a great story, Mr. McLaughlin, and your tears are impressive, but as a journalist I can’t ignore the facts.
“My sources have told me that your wife’s abduction was not gang-related, as previously reported. All indications are that it was an elaborate copycat crime, and the police believe the motive is related to a domestic issue between you and your wife. And the timing is suspicious, with you conveniently being out of town, perhaps trying to establish an alibi.”
By the husband’s unnerved look, Eicher was pretty sure she was improvising. He doubted McLaughlin would have agreed to go on television to be accused of kidnapping, murder, or whatever exactly she was accusing him of.
“I don’t know what you are talking about. I was out of town because I am a pilot—it’s my job. I would never harm Lilly. I just want her back!”
Jessi continued on, unabashed, “But you haven’t been completely honest with me. You told me earlier that the police suspected one of your wife’s students as being the man in the video, but you withheld the fact that there is indeed a lead suspect. Did you withhold this because it would connect you to the kidnapper?”
“Of course not, the police warned me that Lilly could be
“That’s right— Killer Sex .”
“Maybe I should try that method to get some of these Russian thugs to talk,” Dava made a rare joke.
Eicher knew that a lifetime supply of sex and vodka couldn’t get the Russian mobsters they dealt with to talk. “I’m just worried that history is repeating itself—missing wife, interview by a pool, Jessi Stafford...”
“You think the husband could be involved?”
“When it comes to Viktor Sarvydas, I don’t rule anything or anyone out, especially the most unlikely scenario.”
Dava refocused on the screen. “It must be nice to go through life looking like a Barbie doll—no lack of second chances—I would have thought the Callahan thing would be a career killer.”
“Kind of like ours if we don’t find Nick real soon.”
Lilly McLaughlin’s husband, who according to LaPoint was either sadly naïve or the greatest actor of his generation, looked solemnly into the camera. “My name is Darren McLaughlin. Last night, my wife Lilly was abducted while pumping gas at a station here in Chandler.”
Jessi cued the video. And for maybe the thousandth time since last night, Eicher watched Nick roll out from under the SUV and force Lilly McLaughlin into the back at knifepoint. The only positive was that he had worn his bank-robber chic outfit—a black Under Armour body suit and stocking over his head—so he couldn’t be identified, even when Eicher used advanced FBI technology to zoom in close enough to see if he had a zit on his nose. But Eicher could spot Nick’s movements three-thousand-miles away. He had no doubts it was him. And worried that Sarvydas could do the same.
The camera zeroed in on two framed photos that Darren held up for the world to see. Eicher winced at the happy wedding photo. He could almost picture a Sarvydas bull’s-eye on the bride. The other photo was a vacation shot. Once again, they looked happy. Of course, so did Eicher and his wife at one time.
Darren’s voice cracked again as he spoke, “Lilly is five-foot-four with dark hair and brown eyes and was last seen in a silver Lexus SUV. She teaches English at South Chandler High. We have been married for four-and-a-half years and hope to start a family some day. If you have seen her, or even think you might have, please, I beg you, please call the number listed on the screen below. Your call will be anonymous.”
“Lilly is my life…” he continued, before breaking down, blubbering his words as tears streamed down his face.
While it seemed sincere to Eicher, he doubted it would have a happy ending, no matter how it turned out.
As McLaughlin wiped his tears and tried to gather himself, Jessi jolted him, “That is a great story, Mr. McLaughlin, and your tears are impressive, but as a journalist I can’t ignore the facts.
“My sources have told me that your wife’s abduction was not gang-related, as previously reported. All indications are that it was an elaborate copycat crime, and the police believe the motive is related to a domestic issue between you and your wife. And the timing is suspicious, with you conveniently being out of town, perhaps trying to establish an alibi.”
By the husband’s unnerved look, Eicher was pretty sure she was improvising. He doubted McLaughlin would have agreed to go on television to be accused of kidnapping, murder, or whatever exactly she was accusing him of.
“I don’t know what you are talking about. I was out of town because I am a pilot—it’s my job. I would never harm Lilly. I just want her back!”
Jessi continued on, unabashed, “But you haven’t been completely honest with me. You told me earlier that the police suspected one of your wife’s students as being the man in the video, but you withheld the fact that there is indeed a lead suspect. Did you withhold this because it would connect you to the kidnapper?”
“Of course not, the police warned me that Lilly could be
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