32

 

Donald shook the attorney’s hand. “Susan, this is Paul Jordon. Paul, Susan Layton, my attorney.”

“Anything yet?”

“Nothing credible. But we’re getting calls so that’s good.”

Her secretary had the phone to her ear. “Hey, Sue. There’s a young boy on the line. He says he lives in Erieview Village and Cedar Lane is close to where he lives. He says he knows of a house like that. He and his friend were at the park last night when they thought they heard a woman yelling. They biked around the park but couldn’t find her.”

“What about the house?” Paul asked. “Where is it? Get an address.”

The secretary spoke into the phone, listened for a moment, and then looked at him. “A Victorian house on the other side of the park from where the boy lives, but it’s not gray. It’s purple.”

Donald looked at Paul. “Close enough for me.”

“Me, too. We’re on our way. Tell the boy not to go to the house or talk to the owner at all. It could be dangerous. Get his address and send it to me.”

Once in the limo, Paul called Lizzie. “Is Trent with you?”

“I’m sorry I went behind your—”

“It doesn’t matter, Lizzie. I understand why you did it. Is Trent with you or not?”

“No. Why?”

“We have a lead. Can you call him and give him an address?”

“Of course.”

Paul gave her the address two times and had her repeat it back to him. He started to hang up, but Lizzie said, “And I’ll keep praying, Paul.”

“You do that, Lizzie.”

“Keep safe and bring Maven back home.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Godspeed, Paul.”

Two minutes later, his phone rang again. He looked at Donald. “What can I say? I’m a popular guy.” He clicked answer. “Hi, Snoddy. What can I do for you now?”

“You can wait to approach until I get there. You have no authority to get inside the house.”

“That may be technically true, but I am a policeman in search of a missing woman. As far as I’m concerned, that’s enough for me. I’ll do what I need to do.”

“Look, we’re on the same side, Paul. I want to find Maven, too. Now, let me help. Just wait until I get there.”

“How long?”

“Twenty. Thirty minutes, tops. I’m already on my way up there.”

Paul looked at his watch. “OK. I’ll give you forty minutes, and then I’m going in. With or without you.”

The limo pulled into the tiny parking lot of Cedar Lane Park.

Paul hopped out on one side while Donald did the same on the other side.

“What do you see?” Donald asked.

“Not much. The boy said the house was on the other—”

“Hey.” A young boy ran up to them. “You’re the guys I saw on TV. I’m Aaron. Aaron Bidwell. I called the number.”

Paul held out his hand to shake.

The boy held out his own hand with a smile.

“Good job. I’m Paul, and this is Donald. Thanks a lot for calling. Where are your parents?”

“At work. Do I get my money now?”

Paul shook his head. “Not yet. We have to make sure it’s the house we’re looking for.”

“Then why aren’t you over there?” Aaron pointed across the park.

“All in good time, son. Don’t worry. If it’s the house, you’ll get the money.”

“Who lives in the big house?” Donald Decker knelt down beside the boy.

“I don’t know. Never seen anyone there. What’s going on?”

“To be truthful, probably nothing.”

The boy’s shoulders sagged. “Oh.”

Paul held up his drawing. “But it doesn’t matter. As long as that house matches this drawing, you’ll get your money. I promise.”

A black SUV pulled in beside the limo. Trent stepped out. “You ready?”

“We are.” Donald answered, and then looked at the limo driver. “Are you all right with staying here and waiting?”

“I’m on the clock, boss. I’m here until you tell me to go home. Of course, overtime starts at 4 PM, sharp.”

Donald laughed. “Got it.” He turned to Aaron. “And you need to go in your house and stay there until you see one of us come back. No going in the park. Period.”

The boy nodded.

“I mean it. If you go in that park before I say you can, you lose your money. Got it?”

The boy nodded. “Got it.”

They all piled in the SUV. Trent backed up. “OK, we ran this location and the house belongs to a Reuben Moore. He’s owned the house for almost fifteen years.”

“And what does Mr. Moore do for a living?”

“He’s an architect. From the looks of all the housing permits on record, he’s renovated this house by himself. A little bit at a time over the years.”

“Any priors?”

“A few. Mostly domestic from when he was married, but that was years ago. He’s been divorced for fifteen years. Probably why he bought the house. And never had a problem since.”

Trent made a left turn into the lane.

“Wow. This place is pretty isolated considering it’s only minutes from Cleveland,” Donald said.

Paul looked down at the drawing. “Well other than the color, it pretty much looks like the house. Has the same shape and scroll work. Looks like we owe Aaron some money.” He held it up for Donald to see.

“Maybe the kid was experimenting with colors the day he drew that.”

“Or maybe…” Trent spoke slowly. “Or maybe, he only saw the house at night. Purple can look like gray in the dark.”

“How do you know that?”

“I do a little painting in my spare time.”

“Or the kid’s color blind. Boys are much more likely to be color blind than girls.” Donald Decker said from the back seat of the SUV. “Both my boys are.”

After they were all out of the car, Trent looked at them. “Let me do the talking. I’m the one with a badge.”

“I have a badge, too.” Paul reminded him.

Trent gave him a look.

Paul retreated. “I’m just saying.”

“Ready?”

The men walked up the steps to the wrap-around porch. Trent pushed the doorbell. They all waited. No one answered.

Paul looked at his watch. “Well, it is kind of early. I have no idea what kind of hours architects work. The man’s probably at work.”

“So, now what?” Donald Decker paced the porch, peering into the windows.

“We wait. We have no reason to enter the premises without his permission.”

“Unless I can find a reason.” Paul leaned down and peered in a window. He saw nothing but a hallway. And nothing that could give him a reason to enter. He moved to the next window. A living room.

Trent put a hand on his shoulder. “We’re not going to play that game. It won’t work that way, Paul. We have…” He stopped talking as a car drove down the drive. “See, he’s here now. No problem.”

“That remains to be seen.”

The car pulled up beside Snoddy’s SUV and stopped. A man in his mid-forties stepped out. “Can I help you?”

Trent showed his badge. “I’m Agent Trent Snoddy. FBI.” He made a motion towards them. “These are my associates.”

The man’s face paled. “Is there a problem, Agent?”

“I’m not sure. We’d like to come in the house and take a look around.”

“Why?”

“We had a report of domestic violence here.”

“Here? Impossible. I live alone. And even if I didn’t there’s no one around to report hearing such a thing.” His arm motioned at the trees surrounding his property.

The man was smart—too smart. Paul wanted to yank open the screen door and push his way past the guy to search for Maven.

Donald placed a hand on his arm and gave a slight shake to his head. He was right, of course.

Paul took a deep breath. “OK, you got me. You’re absolutely right. Here’s the thing. A house very similar to yours could be involved in an abduction. And we’d like to check it out to make sure you weren’t involved in that. We’re checking out all the houses that match the description.”

“How can a house abduct someone?”

Paul glared at the man.

He laughed. “Just joking.”

“Yes, sir. A funny joke.” Trent took a step closer to the man. “The thing is we have enough to get a warrant. But that could make things messy for you. Or we can take a quick look around to make sure no one’s here, and then be on our way.”

“Your choice.” Paul chimed in.

Reuben Moore shrugged. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to give you a hard time. Just a little taken aback. It’s not every day the FBI shows up on my porch. Come on in.” He opened the screen door and unlocked his front door.

“Not a problem.” Trent said.

“Where do you want to start?”

“Your house, you decide.”

After searching the first floor and seeing nothing amiss, they moved to the second floor. Paul searched each room carefully, looking for any sign that Maven might have been there.

Paul opened the door to the last room. His heart rate spiked. “Oh, I didn’t know you had children.”

Reuben’s face flushed. “I don’t. My sister has a kid. I thought they’d cleaned up the room when they left.” He brushed past Paul, picking up the toys on the floor. He tossed them on the bed. “You’d think they could have done that much. Some people are just slobs, I guess.”

“I guess. What’s his name?”

“Who? Oh, you mean the nephew. His name is…uh…Joshua.”

“Great name. Any day now, I’m going to be a grandpa for the first time. I can’t wait.” Paul turned and walked out of the room.

“That’s wonderful. Children are such a blessing. Wish I had one of my own.” Rueben led the way down the stairs. “The kitchen and basement are this way.” He pointed down the hall.

“Not necessary. We’ve seen more than enough.” Paul turned towards the door, but gave Trent a meaningful look.

Trent looked confused and opened his mouth to say something.

Paul put a hand on his arm. “Thank you so much for your cooperation.”

“Of course. Just being a good citizen.”

“And I can’t thank you enough.” Paul opened the screen door and motioned for Donald Decker and Trent to leave.

Once they were in the car, Trent turned to Paul. “What was that all about? We should have checked the basement.”

“No need to. We wouldn’t have found anything. That’s why he was being cooperative. He knew we wouldn’t find what we were looking for.”

Donald asked from the back seat. “So, you don’t think he’s the man or this is the house?”

“On the contrary, I know this is the house and he’s the man.”