I texted an update to Amber as J.T. drove to our new favorite breakfast restaurant—Flapjacks, the pancake house down the street from our hotel. That morning I again ordered the four-stack breakfast, which included bacon, but this time the cakes were buckwheat with pecans. As always, real maple syrup sat on the table.
I asked for the carafe of coffee to be left with us and filled both our cups as J.T. read over his notes. “What’s on our agenda today?” I took a sip of the rich coffee as he spoke.
“We need to interview Molly’s family ourselves. Remember, we wanted to find out if they knew what she was wearing when she went running, using the process of eliminating what was missing from her room.”
“That’s right, I remember now. We also need to go over any promising calls that might have come in on the tip line and see what the officers found out about Heather’s car, if anything. They were supposed to do more knock and talks too, right?”
“Yeah, but I think the majority of that was going to happen today,” J.T. said. He took a bite of his pancakes and rolled his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It tastes like heaven, and all these years, I’ve settled for a bagel every morning.”
I grinned and stuck a piece of bacon in his face. “Here, eat this and see what heaven is really like. Keep hanging with me, and I promise you, you’ll be enjoying deliriously good breakfasts a lot more often.”
He patted his stomach. “True, but I don’t want this to expand. I’ve seen what heavy meals can do to a guy’s midsection, and it’s disgusting.”
“Well, speaking as a woman, I love pancakes and bacon, and Amber is a spectacular cook, yet I remain svelte.”
“Yeah, yeah, high metabolism, that’s all. Anyway, chow down. We have a busy day ahead of us.”
We reached the police department at eight thirty. Sullivan sat in the conference room alone and looked to be reviewing his stack of notes. From the sagging bags under his eyes, it was obvious he hadn’t gotten much sleep. I was sure these deaths, as well as Molly Davis going missing, weighed heavily on his mind.
“Captain,” I said with a nod as J.T. and I entered the room. “Anything new since last night?”
“I sure as hell hope not. Stone is collecting the tip line updates, and we’ll give those a look when he gets in.” He checked his watch and glanced at the hallway beyond the glass wall. “The group should be here any minute.”
J.T. and I took seats facing the hallway and waited. I jotted down what we’d be doing that day in order of importance. Footsteps sounded, and we looked up through the glass wall. Fitch and Andrews led the group, and Stone, Mills, Jeffries, and Christopher took up the rear. Fitch pushed the half-open door and entered. One by one, they said good morning and took a seat.
Sullivan pressed his fist against his mouth and cleared his throat. He poured water into a plastic cup from the pitcher on the table. “Okay, people, are you ready to get this day started?”
Papers shuffled as we prepared to take notes. We all said yes.
“Anything on the tip line, Stone?” Sullivan tapped his pen against the table, clearly ready to write.
“The usual, sir. Fourteen calls came in through the night, but most were after the ten o’clock news. I guess Molly has one of those faces, you know? Nothing very distinctive about her features, and she doesn’t have any obvious tattoos that someone would notice. You’d think the red hair would definitely ring a bell, but the leads were all over the board. One person saw her at a house party in Indianapolis. Another swore they saw her shopping on Michigan Avenue yesterday.”
I spoke up. “Yeah, those types of leads will spread your workforce too thin. We need something specific. If she disappeared from the trails, which it seems she did since her car was left behind, wouldn’t she still be wearing her running outfit, or would the kidnapper have her put in something different?” I glanced at J.T. “Maybe we could save time with just a phone call since Molly’s parents were already interviewed in person.”
“I’d say go for it. We could put our legwork to better use.”
“Do you guys mind if I do that right now?” I looked from face to face.
Sullivan swiped the air. “Not at all, go ahead.”
“Okay, here we go. I’ll put the call on speakerphone.”
We listened as the phone at the Davis home rang several times. A click sounded and then a voice. It was Mrs. Davis answering.
“Hello.”
“Mrs. Davis, this is FBI Agent Jade Monroe calling, ma’am. I know we haven’t been formally introduced, but time is of the essence in your daughter’s case.” I placed my phone in the center of the table and set it to the highest volume. “Oh, and by the way, I have you on speakerphone. I’m at the police station with my partner, Captain Sullivan, and the detectives and officers you and your husband spoke with Monday evening.”
“Yes, of course. Do you have news about Molly?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but not yet. The reason I’m calling may sound unusual to you, but it’s actually very important.” I paused for a moment.
“Yes, go ahead.”
“I know you mentioned that you didn’t see Molly leave the house on Monday, but knowing what she was wearing could ring a bell with someone. Since we don’t have the exact time she was at the trails and we don’t know who else was in the area at that time, her outfit could be very helpful to us. We’ll include that information with the news broadcasts that air several times a day. It could produce leads, ma’am.”
“But I—”
I interrupted. It sounded as though she was becoming upset. “I realize you don’t know what she wore that day, but you could see what’s not in her bedroom anymore, correct?”
“Yes, I could do that. It just didn’t occur to me before. Oh no, we’ve wasted precious time.” She trailed off, but I needed her to focus.
“That’s okay, Mrs. Davis. It isn’t your job to think like a cop. What I want you to do is go into Molly’s room. Look through her running clothes in the drawers, closet, or wherever she kept that type of stuff. Think hard and call me back in fifteen minutes at this same number. Do your best to remember her outfits. Whatever isn’t there is likely what she wore on Monday.”
“Okay, I’ll do that immediately and get right back to you.”
I hung up and checked that off my to-do list. “Hopefully that will help stir somebody’s memory. What else do we have?”
“We made additional calls yesterday about Heather’s car,” Stone said. “This time we contacted every precinct and sheriff’s department in the state. Nobody has received a report about an abandoned car fitting that description.”
Sullivan spoke up. “That means it’s time to hit the freeway plate readers and the tollbooth cameras. Let’s start with Illinois first and then Michigan just because they’re the nearest states. Get that done today and go back to Friday after five p.m.”
Stone wrote that down. “Yes, Captain.”
“Is the tracker set up on Alex’s phone?”
Fitch responded. “We should have the okay by noon, sir.”
“Good enough. Okay, today is about revisiting the parks and expanding our neighborhood knock and talks.”
“We’ll pitch in on that, Captain,” J.T. said. “It doesn’t sound like Molly’s employer has been interviewed yet. Is that correct?”
“Not yet,” Andrews said. “That was on the list for today as well.”
“We’ll take care of it. I think the neighbors of the girls need to be spoken to again. Taylor Dorsey was in college. There should be a faculty person that can shed some light on her activities or school friends. Parents don’t know everyone their children hang out with, especially if they’re only acquaintances are from work or school.”
“But it’s been months in Taylor’s case,” Fitch said.
“That’s true, but expand your horizons a bit beyond the school personnel. The college must be near food joints or coffee shops where students hang out. Take her picture along to the neighborhood eateries. See if anyone recognizes her,” J.T. said. “If she was a regular at any place like that, there’s a good chance they’ll remember her and anyone that joined her there.”
My phone, still sitting in the center of the table, rang. I pulled it toward me. “It’s Mrs. Davis. I hope she has something for us.” I answered and tapped the speakerphone icon. “Hello, Mrs. Davis. Did you come up with anything?”
“I did, and I know if anyone saw Molly, it will ring a bell. Her purple running suit is missing. The zipper jacket and stretchy pants matched, and they’re both gone.”
I took a deep breath and tipped my head at J.T. We were getting somewhere. Captain Sullivan wrote as she spoke.
“We need a good description of that running suit, ma’am,” J.T. said.
“She just bought it three months ago. Like I said, it was purple, and it had a lime-green-and-black stripe that ran down the sleeves of the jacket and the sides of the pant legs. I teased her about the mismatched colors, but she liked the lime-green stripe because it went with her favorite running shoes.”
“Her shoes?”
“Oh my God, those shoes were so bright. Hang on a second. I didn’t check her closet floor.”
We heard footsteps and then what sounded like a door opening.
“Agent Monroe, I just opened her closet and looked down. Her lime-green running shoes are gone.”
“Okay, that’s a huge help, Mrs. Davis. Do you know if there are pictures of those items anywhere?”
“I don’t think so, Agent Monroe.”
“Sure, not a problem. Was the running suit light purple or deep purple?”
“Definitely a deep purple.”
“Okay, we’re going to get that information on the noon news. I hope it sparks new leads. Thank you, ma’am, and if you think of anything else, please call me back.” I hung up. “That information could be the help we need. I’m calling the news stations right away.”
“Okay”—Sullivan pushed back his chair and stood—“let’s get to work.”