Dead River (4 page)

“I’m Detective Glenn Wilkerson, Cocoa Beach Police Department.”

Adam’s emotions were fluctuating like alternating current—anger, terror, anger, terror—fright, panic, fright, panic… “Please tell me everything that’s being done to find my daughter.”

Wilkerson tucked in his pointy chin and leaned backward at the waist. “Well, first of all, I’ve taken charge of your daughter’s case.” He rolled the toothpick over his lips with his tongue as if to say, Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll personally find your daughter. Then he resumed gnawing on the wooden sliver. “As you can see, the forensic team is gathering evidence, and I’ve got five officers scouring the woods.”

Adam folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head to one side, attempting to crack his neck. “What else, Detective?” he asked hollowly. “I can see that.”

Wilkerson glanced to his right and then back toward Adam. He cleared his throat. “Okay, on the way over here …” There came another tussive attempt to expel the words that seemed to be lodged in his throat. “I—notified the Florida Department of Law Enforcement,” he said quickly.

“How will they help?”

Wilkerson again rolled the toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other. “They’ll notify the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, send out an Amber Alert, and contact law enforcement personnel in Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, and South Carolina,” he said confidently.

Adam could hear the officers in the woods shouting his daughter’s name. With each cry of Sara Ann, his muscles tightened and another shot of adrenaline surged through his body.

“How will they know who they’re looking for?” Adam asked impatiently.

Puzzled lines formed on Wilkerson’s face. “Who?”

“The law enforcement officers.”

“What do you mean, Mr. Riley?”

“I mean, what picture of my daughter are you using?”

Wilkerson bit down hard on the toothpick. “Well, I do need a more recent photo of your daughter to send to Tallahassee. Why don’t you get one for me from the house before it rains?”

Adam’s eyes narrowed. “Which—photo—of—Sara—Ann are you using now?”

Wilkerson finally cleaved the toothpick with his front teeth. “Don’t know, Mr. Riley. But you need to get me a recent one.”

Glenn Wilkerson, or “Charlie” as he was lovingly referred to behind his back within the department, stood in an irresolute pose as Adam shook his head and headed up the driveway. The detective’s nickname was coined after the movie Me, Myself and Irene came out. The striking resemblance between the flat-topped Rhode Island state trooper Charlie Baileygates, played by Jim Carrey, and Wilkerson was impossible to miss.

Massive black clouds were now swirling directly overhead, and lightning struck nearby, setting off a piercing explosion. The air was suddenly cool again and a musty scent swept over the area.

“Detective,” the man with the camera shouted, “I think you should see this.”

Wilkerson removed his sunglasses and joined the investigator near Sara Ann’s car where the man stood over a black mark about six inches long on the driveway. The mark was about five feet behind her vehicle, close to the edge of the driveway.

“What do you make of it? Do you think I should take more pictures?”

“Yeah, go ahead. It may be nothing, but make sure you scrape up some of it for the lab. But hurry, it’s going to unleash any minute.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Twenty feet from the front door Adam was hit with the first raindrop; it pounded his head with an unexpected force. Then there was another, and another, slapping his head and arms with stinging repetition.

Then the rain came in sheets, and Detective Wilkerson called a halt to the search. With their work unfinished, the forensic team scrambled for the truck. The five police officers struggled up the rain-drenched embankments on either side of the driveway. They slipped and pushed each other to reach the top as the heavy raindrops pelted their faces, and then they disappeared down the road toward their cars.

Wilkerson’s umbrella was no defense against the continuous wall of water that furiously swept through the air. By the time the detective dashed from his car parked in front of the Riley home to their front door, his once smartly-pressed linen suit, oxford button-down shirt, and Bill Blass silk tie, were all drenched and malformed.

Adam swung open the front door and Wilkerson stepped into the foyer, his black wingtips squishing with each step.

Adam offered a white envelope. “Here’s a recent picture of Sara Ann.”

“Okay.” With diligence Wilkerson opened the envelope and slid out the photograph. “Who’s the boy?”

“That’s Brad Richards, Sara Ann’s boyfriend.”

Wilkerson shoved the picture back in the envelope and tucked it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

A puddle of water quickly formed on the tile floor around the detective’s feet. “Would you like a towel?” Adam asked.

“No thanks.” Wilkerson’s lips continued to roll and pucker, unaware of the missing toothpick. “I’m sending someone over here later this evening to place a wiretap on your phone line.”

“A wiretap?”

“Yes, just in case your daughter’s been abducted.”

Adam’s stomach knotted and churned. “But you don’t know that.” He felt light-headed.

“Yes, that’s correct, Mr. Riley, we don’t know. But in the event that she was kidnapped, maybe someone will call. We need to be ready.”

Adam shoved his quivering hands deep into his pockets. “So then, this is a missing person case?”

“Yes, we’re calling this a missing person case. Given your daughter’s medical condition, we’re bypassing the normal twenty-four-hour waiting period.”

Adam’s knees went weak and the room seemed to spin. “What should I do with my daughter’s car?”

“You can drive it back to the house and park it. If forensics needs to go through it again, they’ll call. Just don’t drive it after it’s parked.”

“When will you continue the search?”

“When I get back to my office I’ll call a special briefing to form a search party. We’ll ask for volunteers—civilians—to assist. I’ll try to get them out there as soon as possible.”

“Thank God,” Adam breathed. “Please call me with anything, anything at all.”

“I will, Mr. Riley.” Wilkerson struggled to fish his wallet out of his saturated pants pocket. “Here’s my card. It also has my home phone number on the back.”

“There’s something I forgot to mention.”

“What’s that?”

“After I called 911, I heard Sara Ann’s cell phone ring. It was in her car.”

“Who was it?”

“Don’t know. I answered it but they wouldn’t say anything. There was definitely someone there, but they wouldn’t talk. Then a few seconds later it rang again, but the same thing, silence.”

“Does she have caller ID?”

“Yes, but whoever called must have their number blocked. The display showed Unknown.”

“Where’s the phone?”

“I have it here.” Adam reached into his back pocket.

Wilkerson rubbed his narrow chin. “I can understand you wanting to answer it, but I wish you wouldn’t have.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s evidence. Anyway, I’ll have it checked for prints. Would you get me a plastic bag? Wait, let me take the phone.”

Wilkerson took the phone and held it by the small antenna with his fingertips while Adam retrieved a plastic sandwich bag from the kitchen.

Adam watched as Wilkerson meticulously placed the phone in the bag and sealed it. “Do you think Sara Ann has been kidnapped, Detective?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to say.”

Adam rubbed his eyes like he’d just woken up from a long night’s sleep. He didn’t want to think about a kidnapping. “Thanks for your help.”

Wilkerson checked his watch. “I need to get back to the station. I want to get a search party out here ASAP.”

“Please call me if you hear anything.”

“I will.”

Wilkerson raced for his car, and Adam mopped the tile floor with a large beach towel. He stood over the soppy towel and thought about calling Valerie but couldn’t make himself do it. What would he say? The force of swirling emotions finally burst open the floodgates, and tears began flowing freely. He stared at the tile floor through his tears, wondering where his baby girl could be.

 4 

FIRST IT WAS Burdine’s. Dillard’s was next. From there they hurried to Sephora. The next stop was Saks Fifth Avenue, then to Bailey, Banks and Biddle, back to Sephora, and finally it was time for lunch. They split an order of sesame chicken and fried rice at the Asian Chao. Their shopping marathon hit its grand finale with brief visits to Bath & Body Works, the Sharper Image, Sunglass Hut, seven more designer stores and one last stop at Sephora. And finally, it all ended back at Burdines, where they had started. They were exhausted.

Valerie and Dawn returned home at 5:45 pm, an hour later than planned. They had missed the thunderstorm that roared across central Florida, ensconced in the mall in Orlando.

Adam heard the front door close but didn’t budge from the couch. A few seconds passed, and he saw Valerie peering into the dimly-lit living room.

“Sorry I’m late. Dawn and I found some really nice outfits for her.” She held up two large bags and smiled. “And I bought some things for me, too.”

Adam was silent. What will I tell her?

“Why are the lights off?” Valerie asked, her smile fading.

Dawn popped her head over her mother’s shoulder. “Hi, Daddy.” Without another word she swept herself upstairs with bags in both hands.

Valerie reached for the wall switch and flipped it on. The lamp on the end table flooded the room with light. “Why are you in your robe?”

Adam’s face was drawn. Valerie’s bags hit the tile floor and she rushed to his side. “What’s wrong, Adam?”

Adam stared at her with watery eyes. “Oh God, Val, Sara Ann’s missing.”

“Missing? She’s right here.” Valerie pointed toward the driveway outside the living room window. “Her car’s parked outside.”

He lowered his hands onto her lap, and she took them in hers, squeezing firmly. “Listen, remember, Sara Ann and I were supposed to have lunch together?”

She gripped harder. “Yes. What happened?”

Adam watched Valerie’s eyes grow larger.

“I don’t know. On the way home from Brad’s soccer game she stopped to get the mail, and she was gone.”

Her grip tightened more, and Adam winced. “No, this can’t be.”

Adam broke his hands loose and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his terrycloth robe. He shifted on the couch to directly face her. “We can’t find her, Val. She left her car running in the driveway by the mailbox. I checked at the Clevelands’ and the Alcotts’. The police have been here and they checked the woods around the driveway. There’s no sign of her. She’s gone.”

“No, she’s not. She’s in her room. She’s listening to music in her room. I can hear the music. I can hear the music!” Valerie shouted.

“That’s coming from Dawn’s room.”

Adam reached for her shoulders, but his attempt was denied with a quick outward flick of her arms. Valerie jumped to her feet and darted out of the room.