Four days later
The girl’s eyes narrowed as she watched the man across from her.
“It’s okay,” Morgan Young said to her. “Just tell him what you told me.”
They were in Morgan’s living room, which, for the time being, was considered an office for his private investigations business. He sat beside his latest client on the couch—a girl of around eighteen years who was looking for her father, Mason. Across from them, Morgan’s best friend—a respected homicide detective—sat with his hands clasped together while he listened, his silver eyebrows bobbing up and down like boats on a rough sea.
“Where do I start?” the girl—Amy—asked.
“Right at the beginning.” Detective Gary Lee lowered his tone. “I’m listening.”
Amy rubbed her bare arms and sat back, her chest rising and falling as she readied herself. “So, my father has been talking to a friend lately. They got in touch on social media after not talking for many years. He was really excited about it. They were texting each other all the time with the promise of going out for beers sometime soon.”
“Does he usually drink?” Gary asked.
“And then some.” Amy nodded slowly, as if he should already know that fact. “But he’s been keeping an eye on it since my baby brother was born. He doesn’t say no to a drink often though, if it’s offered. Anyway, they were texting all the time, catching up and shooting the breeze. And then his friend asked him to come to Washington.”
Morgan made a mental note and said nothing. This girl was endearing: cute, caring, and well-spoken. The care she had for her father was not in doubt, evidenced by the frown lines appearing on her forehead as she explained what’d happened.
“Did he go?” Gary asked.
“Sure did. That was the last time we saw him.”
“Who’s we?”
“Me and his wife, Diane.”
Gary rubbed his jaw. “Where is she right now?”
“At home in San Francisco, looking after my baby brother. Well… half brother.”
There was a silence that followed, and Gary used the heels of his hands to rub his dark eyes. It looked like he hadn’t slept in ages, and Morgan decided now was a good time to add to that problem. He picked up an envelope from the coffee table and handed it over.
“What’s this?” Gary asked.
Morgan sat back so he could keep an eye on Amy and watch for signs of discomfort. “That’s a file I put together on Mason Black. I’m sure the MPD can dig further into the details, but that should be enough to get you started. He’s, uh…”
“A cop,” Gary finished, flicking through the sheets.
“A good one too,” Amy offered.
“So he’ll have a few enemies?”
“That’s an understatement. Ever heard of the Lullaby Killer?”
Morgan brought his hand to his mouth and rested the knuckles on his lip. All the information on the Lullaby Killer was in the file, and he watched as Gary pilfered through it. It was the horrific story of a man named Marvin Wendell who’d kidnapped and tortured young children. Mason had been the detective on the case until he’d quit to become a PI, but his pursuit didn’t end there. The details of the outcome were a little fuzzy, but the killer’s sister had later come back to punish him for his efforts.
Talk about a tough break.
“I know all about Wendell,” Gary said, closing the file and locking eyes with Amy. “But that was a long time ago, not to mention in California. Does he have any enemies in Washington? Anyone who might want to hurt him for any reason?”
Amy shrunk at the word “hurt.” “As far as I know he’s never even been here before.”
“Still, we shouldn’t rule out the possibility of there being a link.”
“If you say so.”
“Did you contact the SFPD?”
“Of course I did. My father’s a cop, after all.”
“And what did they say?”
Morgan lowered his hand and rested it on his knee. He wanted to take it from here. Anything he could do to spare the girl more distress. “It’s out of their jurisdiction, but they’re doing what they can. They’re also contacting Captain Bray at the MPD to get someone on it. We’re hoping it will be you.”
“Buddy, I’m homicide.”
“So?”
“So unless Mason’s body is found, it’ll probably go to the Missing Persons Unit.”
Morgan heard Amy wheeze beside him, the sensitive nature of this discussion finally getting to her. He subtly knocked his head to one side, bringing it to Gary’s attention, and then climbed to his feet. “Can I talk to you in private for a moment?”
“Whatever it is, you can say it in front of me,” Amy protested.
“All the same, I need to talk with him. Gary?”
Gary blew out a long breath and followed him into the kitchen doorway. Morgan leaned against the frame, close enough to keep an eye on the girl but far enough that she wouldn’t overhear if they kept it to a whisper.
“I don’t want to use words like that with my client.”
“Why? She looks like a tough girl.”
“Her father’s missing,” Morgan said. “The SFPD have told her they can’t do much, and Bray will probably assign a nobody to the case. She’s feeling scared right now, and she doesn’t need to imagine a body being found.”
Gary raked his fingers through his hair. “Fair enough.”
“What can you do?”
“As a cop? Absolutely nothing.”
“But as a friend?”
Gary shrugged. “Maybe I can peer over some shoulders and listen in to a few conversations. If you need me to run something through the database, it shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll talk to Bray too—see if I can be in the room while he assigns someone. I can try to steer it toward someone more competent. How’s that?”
“Perfect. Thank you.” Morgan felt surprisingly reassured, and that was a first when it came to missing persons. He glanced over at Amy, who sat wringing her fingers together as her gaze panned around the room. She was still a kid, but she had a strong exterior. Considering her father had gone missing, she was keeping herself together. Morgan knew that if the same thing happened to his wife or kid, he’d never be so calm about it. His family was his world.
Morgan stepped back inside the living room, sitting beside Amy once again. Only this time, he sat on the edge of the couch and turned to look her in the eye. “Okay, here’s the plan: Gary is going to keep tabs on the case from the inside. I’m going to start digging into this right away, leaving you with a contract to peruse. First though, I’ll need something from you.”
“What’s that?”
“The phone number for your father’s wife.”
A smile breached the corner of her mouth. “No problem.”