Blood Loss (7 page)

Bob nodded again.

‘Are we taking over the same room as the last time?’ said Gary.

‘Yes,’ said Bob.

‘That’s great, thank you,’ said Gary, already walking past, and down the familiar hallway to the room that they would all squeeze in to for as long as it took.

Ren leaned in to Bob. ‘Gary has a form of Tourette’s. It’s, like, the involuntary vocalization of what he is going to do in an investigation.’ She paused. ‘All anyone else needs to do is not to succumb to regular Tourette’s in response …’

‘I hear you,’ said Bob.

‘Consider this an apology on his behalf.’

‘No need,’ said Bob. ‘Gary is … well, he’s a Fed …’

‘Textbook,’ said Ren.

‘You’re more … Facebook.’

‘I don’t know where you’re going with that,’ said Ren.

‘Nowhere, it just sounded kind of catchy. What next?’

‘I’m going to read through more of the guests’ statements, and then I’d like to talk to the stepmother. We can all go to the hotel, then back here for the press conference.’

Bob raised an eyebrow. ‘That Tourette’s is catching …’

Ren followed Bob into the small interview room where Erica Whaley had been taken. The furniture was the result of checks in boxes on the order forms of an office supply catalog. A long fluorescent strip light glared down on the cheap glossy veneer of the oval table. There was a strong smell of alcohol in the air. A young female detective stood up and left the room when Bob gave her the nod.

Erica Whaley sat at the end of the table with a glass of water in front of her. She was dressed in a heavy silk silver halter-neck that crossed over just under the neck. Ren could see gray pants legs and silver sandals. Her blonde hair was pinned up, but had fallen loose around her face. Her cheeks were red, the foundation washed away with tears and rubbed away with Kleenex, her mascara smudged under her eyes.

She looked up, blinking with panic … then hope. Ren had seen the reaction a thousand times, when a door opening took on an unimaginable significance.

You thought your night would end so differently.

Ren reached out her hand. ‘I’m Ren Bryce, I’m with the FBI; the Rocky Mountain Safe Streets Task Force in Denver. We’ll be working alongside the Sheriff’s Department on this.’

‘Thank God,’ said Erica, standing up, shaking Ren’s hand. She glanced at Bob. ‘I didn’t mean that the Sheriff’s Office isn’t …’ She trailed off.

‘The Sheriff’s Office knows Breckenridge and the surrounding area inside out,’ said Ren. ‘As you know, their officers are already out there looking for your daughter. My colleagues from Denver will be processing the scene, seeing if we can get any information from that, interviewing staff members and guests, looking at CCTV footage, we’ll canvass the town, carry out road-side canvasses. And Sheriff Gage here has already emailed Laurie’s photo to every law enforcement agency in the country, and to the media.’

Erica nodded at almost every word.

‘OK … OK … thank you,’ she said.

‘Let’s sit down, Mrs Whaley. I’ve read through the statement you gave to Undersheriff Delaney. I’d just like you to go through everything with me again.’

‘I mean, it’s a regular thing to do, going to a hotel, getting a sitter, you just don’t think twice,’ said Erica. ‘It’s a four-star resort, you don’t question it, which seems ridiculous now. We were only downstairs, like my husband said. It’s kind of like being at home, isn’t it? You leave your kids upstairs when you’re at home, don’t you? It’s all the one building, a hotel at least has security, or should have had security. Now, of course, I’m thinking “how many people work at the hotel?”, sure I guess most of them are good people, but who
are
all these people? Are they pedophiles, druggies, wife beaters? Are they psychopaths? Are their jobs just nothing to them, just what they do to make money to pay for child porn? Is the owner of this place a do-gooder, savior of mankind who employs ex-cons, or—? What if there’s a guy who never touched a child, but suddenly decides, well, hell, I’ll take these girls, I get caught, I get caught, I’ll go out on a high, I’ll give in to my sick fantasies …’

She didn’t draw breath. She didn’t pause. It was as if someone had popped the latch on the part of her brain that held her worst fears, and out jumped the demons …

Ren’s heart-rate shot up as she listened to Erica Whaley. She hadn’t taken a breath herself.

Do not take on these emotions. Step away from the panic.

‘Mrs Whaley, if we talk through the evening,’ said Ren, ‘we’ll be able to see things more clearly.’

‘The first we saw of the sitter was when she showed up at our room,’ said Erica.

‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘And—’

‘I can’t believe it,’ said Erica. ‘It’s like, “Hello, stranger, we know nothing about you. Here, why don’t you look after the most precious things in the world to us, please take them, we’ll see you in a few hours, while we’re living it up down in the restaurant.”’

‘How did—’

‘I mean, these days stranger babysitters are just part of the hotel’s menu, right? Facials, massages, sitters …’

‘Mrs Whaley—’

‘I think she took her,’ said Erica. ‘I think she took her to order for some skanky druggie boyfriend she has, or for some … desperate woman who can’t have kids … or …’ She started shaking.

‘Mrs Whaley,’ said Ren. ‘All over the world, parents leave their children with hotel babysitters.’

‘Would
you
?’ said Erica. ‘Do you have kids?’

‘I don’t have kids,’ said Ren, ‘but I would have no problem leaving them with a hotel babysitter.’
And if you were listening very carefully, the word ‘hotel’ cracked with the broken cadence of doubt.

Erica Whaley
had
been listening carefully.

Shit.

Erica Whaley started to cry.

‘Mrs Whaley,’ said Ren. ‘Now is not the time to beat yourself up. Please don’t turn this in on yourself—’

‘I drank a whole bottle of champagne tonight,’ she said. ‘I started on a second. I know what that probably looks like to you …’

Erica Whaley gave her version of events and it matched her husband’s until it came to their time in the restaurant, when it turned hazy.

‘Mrs Whaley, a witness has said that you and your husband argued over dinner.’
The server saw. And he saw your tears when he delivered your champagne.

Her eyes went wide. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It was nothing. Just about his working hours. What woman doesn’t complain about her husband’s working hours?’

‘So, your husband spends a lot of time at the office?’ said Ren.

Erica nodded. ‘Yes – then locked away in the den at home.’

‘Can I confirm that you ordered the second bottle of champagne just before your husband left the table to check on the kids?’

‘Yes,’ said Erica.

‘Did you argue about the second bottle?’ said Ren.
Been there.

‘I’m mortified,’ said Erica. ‘I rarely drink. And the one night that I do … No, Mark didn’t mind,’ said Erica. ‘He just reminded me about the championships tomorrow. He was just trying to spare me from a hangover.’

‘OK,’ said Ren.

‘I feel like we’re sounding like a different couple to who we are,’ said Erica. ‘That we’ve been caught at our worst or something. Fighting in a restaurant, drinking too much in my case …’

‘You were out for dinner. No-one’s judging you,’ said Ren. ‘How long do you think your husband was gone from the table?’

Erica paused. ‘Twenty minutes? Hold on, I’ve got a text here. I texted my sister when he got back to the restaurant.’ She picked up her cell phone. ‘That was at twelve fifteen.’

Ren glanced down at her notes. ‘The receipt for your second bottle of champagne says eleven thirty-five,’ said Ren. ‘Your husband was gone forty minutes, Mrs Whaley.’

Erica frowned. ‘Why did I drink all that champagne, I’m so fuzzy – my timing always gets a little skewed …’

Yet your sober husband said twenty minutes too.

‘May I look at your phone, please?’ said Ren.

Erica handed it over. Ren scrolled back through Erica’s texts. The previous one to her sister read:

Asked him, finally. Denied it. Hmm.

Erica blushed.

‘The text to your sister,’ said Ren. ‘What had you asked your husband?’

‘I didn’t really think he was, but I … I just asked him if he was having an affair.’

‘What made you think that?’ said Ren.

‘I jumped to conclusions,’ said Erica. ‘Because of the whole working late thing – it’s a cliché, I know … but …’ She shrugged. ‘To be honest, it’s probably just me being paranoid.’

‘And from your text, you say he denied it.’

‘Yes,’ said Erica.

‘But, you write “Hmm” …’

‘I was tipsy,’ said Erica. She shrugged. ‘If you’re asking me right now? I do believe him. Of course I do. I get a little dramatic. He’s right. He’s got a lot of work on. Making him sound like he’s sneaking around behind my back sounds terrible right now.’

You bet.

‘What was your husband’s demeanor when he returned from checking on the kids?’ said Ren.

Erica frowned. ‘Fine – why?’

‘Was there anything in his behavior that caused you concern?’ said Ren.

‘No – not at all.’

‘What did he say?’ said Ren.

‘He said that the kids were sleeping, and that the sitter was watching television. Are you putting out an Amber Alert?’

‘We’re not in a position to do that,’ said Ren, ‘we don’t have enough information to release. We don’t know what happened to Laurie. We don’t have a description of an abductor, we don’t have a vehicle description—’

‘But you have a photo of Laurie!’ said Erica. ‘Taken tonight! And I’m sure you have a photo of the sitter. She could be the … perpetrator here …’

‘We have already released their photos,’ said Ren. ‘Their images will be displayed around Breckenridge, they’ll be on local news, in the newspapers first thing.’

‘But … Amber Alerts, they’re on the highway signs, right?’

‘Yes, but without a vehicle description, drivers won’t know what to look out for,’ said Ren.

‘What about at a rest stop? Someone might see them. Didn’t a guy in California rescue a little girl when he saw her in a pickup? That was an Amber Alert.’

‘There were witnesses to that kidnapping,’ said Ren. ‘The police had a description of the vehicle, and there was surveillance footage of the vehicle shown on television, along with the girl’s photo.’

‘Don’t you have surveillance footage here?’ said Erica.

‘Most of the cameras were not operational at the hotel,’ said Ren.

‘I don’t believe it,’ said Erica. ‘So, you’re telling me you have nothing.’

‘For an Amber Alert, we have to know that an abduction has occurred—’

‘What do you think this is,
Adventures in Babysitting
?’
said Erica. ‘That they’re out on the town somewhere having fun?’

‘No,’ said Ren. ‘But we are limited by the amount of information we have to release.’

‘I can’t believe this, I can’t believe any of this—’

‘I know this is difficult,’ said Ren. ‘Just a few more questions.’

Erica nodded.

‘Have there been any changes in Laurie’s behavior over the last little while?’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Erica.

‘Have a think about that,’ said Ren.

‘I’m telling you straight off, because I know. We have Laurie Saturday during the day, every second weekend. I don’t know what happens the rest of the time, but she’s been the same as she always is. Oh … tonight, she had a pain in her stomach, that was all, but she was fine shortly afterward. We got out of the SUV, and she kind of got a sharp pain, she was bent double with it, but by the time we were checking in, she said it was gone. And she didn’t look ill: no fever, rosy cheeks, and she was running around after Leo.’

‘So, this weekend … you were picking her up from the Merritts’ house?’

‘Yes – on Saturday afternoon, it was about four o’clock. We told Laurie about Breck when we got there – it was a surprise. Obviously, we had run it by Cathy and Dale. So we headed for Breck, but then Laurie asked us could we go back so she could pick up her new ski jacket. We hadn’t the heart to say no. Leo had spilled his drink all over himself, so it suited us to have the chance to get him cleaned up.’

‘What time was that at?’ said Ren.

‘It was five by the time we left again,’ said Erica.

‘Who was there when you went to the house?’ said Ren.

‘The second time? Just Joshua – that’s Dale Merritt’s son.’

‘Did you spend long there?’ said Ren.

‘Not long,’ said Erica. ‘I don’t know. Laurie ran up to her room to grab her jacket. I went in after her to find somewhere to change Leo’s clothes and then we left.’

‘Did Mark go inside with you?’ said Ren.

‘Yes, he came to help with Leo.’

‘How does Laurie get along with her stepbrother?’ said Ren.

‘He’s a teenage boy, she’s an eleven-year-old girl … you can imagine.’

Ren nodded. ‘With three big brothers, I sure can. Could you elaborate a little?’

‘Laurie bugs Joshua, he bugs her, but they get along just fine. You’ll hear about them bickering one minute, then Laurie’ll say that they were having fun playing
Shaun White Snowboarding
on Xbox or whatever. So it’s up and down. Nothing unusual, as far as I can make out.’

‘What kind of kid is Joshua?’ said Ren.

‘I don’t know him very well,’ said Erica, ‘but … he seems like a nice kid. His mom died when he was five years old. He had his father to himself for quite a few years, and then Cathy and Laurie came along. It took him a while to adjust. He’s sixteen years old, it’s not an easy age …’

‘And how would you describe your husband’s relationship with Dale Merritt?’ said Ren.

‘Good, actually. There’s no tension there. He’s a very nice man, and he’s very good to Laurie.’

‘We’ll be going through Laurie’s cell phone records,’ said Ren. ‘Does she use it a lot?’

‘Not really, she’s still a little young, I think …’

‘Is she ever secretive about who she’s calling or texting?’ said Ren.

‘She isn’t allowed to be,’ said Erica. ‘Cathy and Dale got her the phone and they explained to her very clearly that the only reason she has it is so that her parents can be in contact with her at all times, and that we all know she’s safe. I know that Cathy told her about the rapist that’s out there, so Laurie was aware that she had to stay safe, and that we would be worried if we didn’t hear from her.’