Broken Road (37 page)

T
he University of Florida Police Department appeared nothing like any of the other run-of-the-mill police departments Jarrod had ever seen. Then again, up until recently he had never really stepped foot in one. He hadn’t paid much attention to his surroundings the day he had accompanied Angel and Ileana here to report the original incidences. He found himself essentially noting the similarities and differences between the UFPD and the police stations he had seen on televisions shows such as
Blue Bloods
and reruns of
Monk
.

As he walked into the pristine white foyer, he immediately noticed the large brass lettering above the front desk that read “University of Florida Police Department.” The walls were painted a neutral taupe, which imparted a soothing, relaxed feeling. Directly behind the front desk was a large state-of-the-art media room that could be viewed through a floor-to-ceiling glass wall. It housed several computers, security monitors, and additional high-tech equipment. To his left he noted a small room also viewable through a glass partition, with a sign on its door designating it as the private interview room. When he turned to his right, he saw Detective Anderson sitting behind his desk. The detective looked up and upon seeing Jarrod, came out to greet him. They shook hands, and Jarrod introduced him to Mr. Skyler.

“Mr. Skyler, I’m sorry about all of this,” Detective Anderson said. “I’m sure you and your wife must be going crazy with worry, but I assure you we are doing everything we possibly can, in conjunction with the Gainesville Police Department, to bring your daughter back to you safe and sound.”

“Thank you. We appreciate it. Can you update us on the situation?” Willie asked.

“As of now, unfortunately, we don’t have much news. We’ve run a local check on Ms. Billings to see if we can get an address, but so far we haven’t come up with anything. According to Mr. Wentworth…”

“Just call me Jarrod”

The detective nodded and continued. “According to Jarrod, she’s from New Jersey, so the Gainesville PD is currently trying to see if they can obtain information from the NCIC—”

“What is the NCIC?” interrupted Willie.

“NCIC stands for National Crime Information Center and is a computerized index of criminal justice information. It’s available for federal, state, and local law enforcement. It supplies us with information pertaining to criminal record history and assists us in apprehending fugitives and locating missing persons. If Ms. Billings is newly arrived in Gainesville, she may not have set up a change of address yet or hasn’t made arrangements to have her utility bills sent to her home in her name. This sometimes is the case when there are numerous people living in one home.

“Mr. Went—Jarrod—mentioned she may be out here living with a friend, so it’s possible this may be the situation we are dealing with. Either way, the NCIC should help us in obtaining an address. It’s important for you to remember that we don’t know for a fact she was in any way involved, so if we do find her, we can’t apprehend her at this point. She would have to come in on her own volition, unless we suddenly find evidence that would implicate her. If she doesn’t agree to do so, we’ll have officers follow her to make sure she doesn’t leave town while we look for evidence of her involvement. Once again, we don’t have any concrete proof. All we have right now are the intuitive feelings of her involvement based on the past history shared between Ms. Billings, Mr. Wentworth, and Ms. Mendez. It’s definitely enough for us to look into, but—”

Willie interrupted by saying, “Morgan’s never been in trouble with the law, so this might just be a waste of time…”

“No harm in trying. We’re not going to leave any stone unturned, so to speak, in our investigation.”

“Excuse me, Detective,” interrupted the officer behind the front desk. “I think you might want to take this call.”

“Who is it?” asked the detective as he turned to face the officer.

“His name is John Masterson. He saw one of the posters in town and he says that he may have pertinent information regarding the Skyler case.”

“Patch it through to my office,” he said. He motioned for Jarrod and Willie to follow him in, but requested they remain silent during the call and not to get their hopes up. He quickly explained that many times, people just want to be involved somehow in a case, or are looking for information they’re not getting from the media.

“You also get your idiots who get their kicks out of making calls and having the cops run around like chickens without heads.” Jarrod and Willie agreed to remain silent and then the detective answered the call after pressing the speaker button.

“This is Detective Anderson. I hear you have information regarding the disappearance of Ms. Angelise Skyler.”

“Yes, sir, I do. My name is John Masterson. I wasn’t sure whether to call the Gainesville PD or you, but since this was the number listed on the flyer, I decided to try it first.” I have a roommate that I believe may be involved in her disappearance.

“Why do you believe that?”

“He’s a strange man. Weird, to be honest. The other day, our house was empty, and since I’ve always been curious about him, I took advantage of the opportunity and snuck into his room. I found that he has pictures of the missing girl plastered all over his walls. Tons of them. I tried to see what else he might have, but didn’t get much of a chance, because I heard him walk into the house, so I snuck out of his room right away.”

“How do you know that the pictures are of Ms. Skyler? Have you ever met her?” the detective asked while scribbling information down on a piece of paper.

“No, sir. I saw one of the flyers that are all over the city, and I recognized her immediately. She’s got a face that’s pretty hard to forget. The girl is drop-dead gorgeous,” said John. Jarrod felt a sudden prickling of jealousy at hearing those last words, but immediately quelled them. There were more important issues at hand.

“What is your roommate’s name?”

“Benjamin Langdon,” replied John.

“Is he home now?” asked the detective.

“I don’t know, sir. I’m not home right now. I’m calling from my cell. As soon as I saw the flyer, I called. You should also know that I have two other roommates. I tried calling them both on their cell phones earlier today, but neither one answered. They might be home now, but I’m not sure.”

“Give me your address, please,” requested Detective Anderson.

“Five Fifty Thirteenth Street, Alachua.”

The detective immediately wrote down the address and additional information. Motioning for the officer behind the front desk to come in, he not too subtly threw a small notebook at the glass window to get his attention. When the officer approached him, Detective Anderson covered the mouthpiece of the phone with his hand and quickly instructed him to dispatch two cruisers to the location written on the slip of paper. The officer nodded and looked at the paper as he was leaving the office. Below the address was written “Benjamin Langdon. Have GPD run check with NCIC. Possibly A&D. Look for girl. Two additional people live in house. Careful.”

“Detective Anderson?” said John, regaining the detective’s attention.

“Yes?”

“Be careful. Like I said, the guy is sort of nuts. To be honest, I always figured he was basically harmless, but I’m pretty sure now that he’s not. I have a gut feeling, based on what I saw in his room and after seeing the posters all over town, that he’s involved somehow in this.”

“Thank you, Mr. Masterson. I strongly suggest that you not go home and ask that you come straight to the UFPD so we can take a written statement.”

“I will, but it may take awhile for me to get there. I lent my car to one of my roommates, and like I mentioned before, she hasn’t answered any of my calls. I’ll have to take the bus to get there.”

“Do your other roommates know about Mr. Langdon and the pictures in his room?”

“No. I didn’t tell them. We barely see each other, since we all have different work schedules. Now that I think about it, I should have made a point to do so. One of them is a woman. I could kick myself in the ass for not saying something to her. She could have been hurt as well.”

“You say you’ve been calling them, but they aren’t answering. Do you have any idea where they might be at this moment?”

“Nate should be getting off work right about now, so there’s a possibility he’ll be home shortly, unless he plans to go somewhere else first. As far as Morgan goes, I have no idea.”

Both Jarrod and Willie stood up at the mention of Morgan’s name. Jarrod quickly wrote “Last name?” on a piece of paper, Detective Anderson nodded his head and asked John the question.

“Billings. Her name is Morgan Billings, and my other roommate’s name is Nathan Daniels.”

Jarrod was attempting to write something down again, but the detective was already aware of the connection, based on his earlier conversation with Jarrod.

“Keep trying to call Ms. Billings and ask her to stay where she is. Just tell her you need to meet with her right away because you need the car. Make something up. Then call us back right away with her location.”

“Why? Why just Morgan?” asked John nervously.

“We have reason to believe she may also be involved in Ms. Skyler’s disappearance. I can’t really say more than that right now. Just tell me where you are, and I’ll have a cruiser pick you up,” said the detective, inflecting a tone of authority.

“I’m outside the Homestead Diner in Gainesville. But sir, I’m sure Morgan isn’t involved in any of this. She just moved here from New Jersey and doesn’t really know anybody. There’s no reason—”

“Mr. Masterson, she is Ms. Skyler’s cousin, and we believe she came to Gainesville with a strong motive: to harm her cousin. Now, please, just stay at the diner, and I’ll have someone there in ten minutes to pick you up. Oh, and Mr. Masterson?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Thank you. You’ve done the right thing.”

“I hope so. I really hope it’s not too late for the girl.”

John hung up the phone and immediately began to dial Morgan’s cell phone number. He waited for her to pick up, and when she didn’t, he left her a voice-mail message saying he needed to speak with her right away and for her to please call him back as soon as possible. He hung up and sat down on the side of the steps that led into the diner, making sure to leave room for customers to come and go. Why would the police believe Morgan wanted to hurt her cousin?

He remembered how he’d been instantly attracted to the young, pretty girl when he’d met her at a party in New Jersey not so long ago. He had hoped she would call or e-mail him so that they could remain in contact, but she never did, until recently. He was happy when she did and bent over backward to convince his roommates—well, at least Nate—to let her stay. Benjamin never agreed or disagreed, so John took that as an affirmative response. And now here she was, living in the same house as he. He had hoped that by seeing each other on a daily basis, she might possibly consider giving him a shot. Now he thought of what Detective Anderson had said about her being involved in the abduction of the Skyler girl.

Boy, he had crashed and burned numerous times with a multitude of girls in the past. But this time he had not only crashed and burned; he had exploded into a massive ball of fire so gargantuan that it was visible from the planet Mars. He shook his head and tried calling her again while he patiently waited for the police cruiser to come pick him up.

As soon as the detective hung up, he quickly stood up and looked at Jarrod and Willie. “I know you won’t want to hear this, but you have to either stay here or return to the hotel. You can’t come with me.”

“We can’t just be expected to sit and wait,” Jarrod said. “We have to do something.”

“Right now the best thing you could do for Ms. Skyler is to sit back and let us handle things. I can’t allow you to go, so don’t bother to argue with me. We’d just be wasting precious time.”

He left the two of them standing there alone while he rushed out the door, accompanied by two other officers. The atmosphere at the station was beginning to take on a frenzied mode. Officers were speaking to one another in hushed tones, while others were busy at their computers retrieving or entering pertinent data. Just as Jarrod and Willie sat back down in the detective’s office, they noticed a big commotion occurring near the main entrance. Two officers entered ahead of someone who was being escorted into the precinct.

Jarrod stood up and walked out of the office to get a better view, but still wasn’t able to see anything, because the person who was being led in was much shorter than the officers in the lead. One of the officers yelled to no one specific, “Someone get Detective Anderson!” as they brought this person into the private interview room. Willie now stood beside Jarrod, curiosity getting the best of him. Neither man was able to see past the mayhem as police officers were clamoring around them and inadvertently pushing Jarrod and Willie farther away from the furor.

Finally, when it cleared, Jarrod saw who was being led into the room. She was being told to sit down, and one side of the handcuffs she had on was removed and attached to a steel bar located on the edge of a table in the center of the room. One officer stood behind her, while another one stood to her side, motionless, his hands clasped in front of him. It was Morgan.