Stalked

From the loaded gaze Quincy was sending Sophia, Evelyn had a feeling there was a story there, but instead of asking, she said, “Should we talk to Haley’s mom again? At this point, the damage may already be done, but—”

“I’ll handle it,” Sophia cut her off. “Fact is, I can’t stop Linda from talking to the press. She’s doing anything she can to keep Haley’s story in the news. And honestly, if I were her, I’d probably be doing the same thing. Maybe it will even help. If she’s still alive, someone must have seen her.”

“Sure, but put too much pressure on her kidnapper and if she’s alive—”

“I know.” Sophia grimaced. “She won’t be for long. So, let’s get down to it. You’ve looked through the files. What do you think? Is she still alive?”

“I need to get a closer look at all the players before I can answer that,” Evelyn hedged, because although she was ready to give Sophia a victim profile, she had too little to go on to give a helpful perpetrator profile. “But why would Linda think the note meant her daughter had a stalker? Did anything turn up about a stalker?”

Sophia sighed, pouring herself a cup of coffee from the break room carafe as she shook her head. “No. But Linda’s convinced Haley was grabbed by a stranger. She’s thought that since the beginning. She’s talked herself into thinking a stalker set his sights on Haley the week before Haley went missing, when Linda was away at a work conference. She can’t bring herself to believe it’s someone she knows.”

“But it makes no sense for Haley to leave some cryptic note if she thought a stranger was stalking her. She’d tell someone.”

“Agreed,” Sophia said.

“Why would she leave the note at all?” Quincy spoke up. “If it was a stranger, why not tell someone she was scared right away? And if it wasn’t a stranger, and she really feared for her life—if she really believed that if anyone ever found the note, it would be too late for her—then why not write down his name? Or at least give us some details so we can figure it out. I mean, by then, if she’s right, that person can’t hurt her anymore.”

“That’s a damn good point, Quincy,” Sophia said, and looked at Evelyn. “You have a take on that? You think the whole thing could be some kind of hoax, could be planted?”

“I really doubt it,” Evelyn said. “But you’re right. It’s an odd note. We should consider the possibility that Haley had an entirely different intent, that she didn’t name anyone because there was no one to name.”

“Meaning?” Quincy asked.

“Meaning, maybe she ran away, and she left the note behind to send everyone in the wrong direction.”

“That’s what Haley’s dad is claiming.”

“Linda’s husband?” Evelyn asked, surprised.

“No. Haley’s biological dad. Bill Cooke. He went to the press, too, not long after Haley went missing. It didn’t get as much airtime because he doesn’t have Linda Varner’s presence or persistence and he isn’t the custodial parent. But he claimed Haley ran away from home because of abuse.”

Evelyn gaped at Sophia. “I didn’t see anything about that in the case file. Did you investigate that possibility?”

Sophia dumped her coffee down the sink, muttering under her breath, then said, louder, “Of course. And it is in the file. You probably haven’t gotten to Bill Cooke’s interview yet. But I haven’t found anything to substantiate his claim. If anything, I’m seeing signs Bill was abusive and that’s why the parents divorced.”

“How long ago?”

“The divorce? About three years. Right before Haley started high school.”

“Okay. What about the stepfather? Any possibility of abuse there?”

“Well, technically, Bill was blaming Pete all along,” Sophia said. “But we looked into Linda, too. And we didn’t find anything at all. Although quite frankly, I’m not so impressed with Linda’s husband. He’s—” Sophia seemed to be searching for a word, then finally settled on “—cagey. I’m not seeing evidence of abuse. Doesn’t mean there isn’t any, as I’m sure you know. But as far as Bill’s claims go, they seem to be intended to hurt Linda more than help Haley.”

Evelyn got ready to ask more, but Sophia preempted her. “Look, the divorce was ugly. Really ugly. There was a custody battle and Bill lost big-time. Haley was old enough to have a say, and she wanted nothing to do with him. Haley never went as far as to say there was abuse, at least not in the court documents I dug up, but Linda got primary custody. Bill got a few weekends a year. From what I can tell, his time was usually cut short.”

“By who?” Evelyn pressed.

“According to Linda, that was Haley’s choice. But given the animosity there...” She shrugged.

“So, this could be a custody issue,” Evelyn suggested. “Maybe Bill grabbed Haley, and he’s claiming abuse by the mother’s new husband to deflect attention.”

“It’s a possibility,” Sophia said. “But if he grabbed her, where is she? We’ve interviewed Bill Cooke, several times. He lives in a little brownstone in DC. He won’t let us in, but he’s got almost no yard. The houses there are close together. I’ve talked to his neighbors, and they can tell me what he watches on TV at night. It would be pretty hard to hide a seventeen-year-old in there, especially one who’s been on the news as much as Haley, and particularly if she didn’t want to be there. If he took her, wouldn’t he have gone into hiding?”

“Maybe he’s waiting for the search to die down before he moves her,” Evelyn said.

“That might work with a four-year-old,” Quincy spoke up.

His deep voice startled Evelyn. Even though he’d planted his large frame in the middle of the room, he’d been so quiet she’d nearly forgotten he was there.

“But hiding a seventeen-year-old is a little trickier,” he continued. “I agree—he’d have a hard time keeping her there if she didn’t want to stay.”

“I know it’s a long shot,” Evelyn said. “But we need to look into it, especially in a case where there was a hostile dispute over custody. And with Haley turning eighteen in less than a year, maybe Bill Cooke figured this was his last chance, especially if Haley was threatening to cut him out of her life entirely.”

Sophia nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s true. I don’t really like Bill Cooke for this, but honestly, I don’t really like Bill Cooke at all. I wouldn’t be surprised that if we do discover there was any abuse happening, he’s at the center of it.”

“Okay,” Evelyn said. “Let me finish reading through the case files. Because all I can give you now is about Haley.”

“A victim profile?” Sophia asked. “Tell me.”

“Well, the key thing here is that Haley is very high risk for whoever took her. And the location and timing was high risk, too. He—or she—had to be certain he could pull it off.”

Sophia nodded. “Someone close to her.”

“Someone Haley trusted,” Evelyn said. “Because either she walked out of that school with her abductor, or she let him get close enough to subdue her without screaming.”

“Maybe she expected the person,” Quincy suggested. “Or there was more than one of them and they overpowered her.”

“Both are possible,” Evelyn agreed, “but remember, no one heard her yell for help, or any kind of struggle. So as soon as I finish reading this case file, I want to meet all the people in Haley’s life. Anyone who could have grabbed her, or might have insight into why she thought her life was in danger.”

* * *

“Bill Cooke?”

The man scowling at her from behind a screen door might have had a strong resemblance to his daughter at one time. Blond hair, now receding back to the middle of his head, faded blue eyes, heavy lines alongside his mouth that suggested once he’d had reason to smile a lot. Now, from the top of his balding head to the bottom of his muddied boots, everything about him screamed “angry.”

“Yeah.” Bill glanced from Evelyn to Sophia as they stood cramped together on the small stoop in front of his house. “What now? You haven’t found her, have you?”

“Don’t you want us to?” Evelyn asked, surprised by the tone of the question.

Bill stepped back, held the door open. “Maybe she’s better off if you don’t. I’m telling you, Haley ran away. Linda’s looking for attention, but my daughter was just trying to escape.”

“You think she ran away?” Evelyn prompted as she slid sideways past Bill and stepped through the doorway, taking in the tidy entryway tracked through with fresh mud.

They didn’t have any snow, but the ground was still near frozen. Where had Bill Cooke gone to get mud all over his boots?

“Yeah, and I’ve told that to Detective Lopez here a hundred times. Who are you? New to the police force? Don’t you people share your notes? No wonder you can’t find Haley.”

Ignoring the dig, Evelyn held out a hand as Bill stepped farther back. Sophia joined them inside, closing the heavier door behind them and shutting out the fierce wind. It may have been unusually warm over the past month, but it was still January.