Читать книгу The Stranger You Know - Andrea Kane - Страница 10

Chapter Five

Holly Stevens’s police report arrived at the Forensic Instincts office late that afternoon. The contents were immediately scanned and stored on the server. Pages were printed out for each team member, all of whom stopped what they were doing to read and analyze it. Then they had a brief meeting to see how—and who—could best utilize the information gleaned from the two-page report.

Ryan was elected as the starting point. He’d already run a basic timeline search on Jan Olson’s life. Now he’d cross-check it with Holly’s.

Before heading down to his lair, Ryan swiveled his chair toward Marc.

“I found Brenda Miller,” he informed him. “She’s married, listed under the name Brenda Reins and living in Greenwich, Connecticut.” He passed along a three-page printout. “I got a basic rundown on her, as well as digging up her address and phone number. She’s a typical suburban mom, juggling a job at a nonprofit organization with raising three kids.”

Marc glanced at his watch. “I can make Greenwich in a little over an hour—maybe longer, if I get caught in rush hour traffic.” He took the printout. “I’ll get on the road now.”

“Since I know you like to go for the element of surprise, I called ahead to make sure you wouldn’t be wasting your time,” Ryan said. “A tween kid answered. I pretended to be a telemarketer. I heard a woman in the background. So I’m guessing she’s home.”

Marc shrugged. “Even if she wasn’t, she probably would be once I showed up. There’s nothing like dinnertime to bring the family together. And if she happens to be out, I’ll wait.”

“She drives a dark green SUV.” Ryan gave Marc the year and the model, along with the license plate number. “So if you see the car in the driveway or the garage, you’re in luck.”

“Gotcha.” Marc glanced across the conference room table at Casey, who’d been unusually quiet during this minimeeting. “Does that work for you or do you need me here?”

“It works. And I’m going with you.” Casey set down Jan Olson’s date book, which she’d been studying for the past hour. “We need to really probe the boyfriend angle with Brenda. Whether Jan was seeing one guy or ten, I want as much info on them as possible. And Brenda is more apt to be open with another woman than with a man. You can question her about everything else, Marc. But I’m taking the boyfriend route.”

“Okay.” Marc’s eyes narrowed quizzically. He knew that expression on Casey’s face. She was focused on something in particular—something she thought might be significant. “Want to share?”

Casey pointed at the date book. “Daniel Olson was right. Jan was a typical teenage girl, who made typical entries in her date book. One of the most common notations is something a father would never notice.” She pointed at one page, then another, and finally a third.

“What are we looking for?” Ryan asked.

“Dots.” Claire spotted them in an instant. “Each of those pages has a dot on it.”

“And the dots show up every four weeks, almost to the day.” Casey indicated a few more pages. “Jan was keeping track of her periods. Most women do. And hers came like clockwork, right up until two months before her disappearance. Then they stopped altogether.”

“You think she was pregnant,” Ryan concluded.

“I think the timing is too coincidental to be ignored. No period for two months, followed by an inexplicable disappearance?” Casey frowned. “That connection definitely requires investigation.”

“Makes sense.” Marc looked thoughtful. “Although it feels like a reach. A single young woman becoming pregnant, even fifteen years ago, wasn’t an eyebrow-lifter. And it wouldn’t be difficult to take care of quietly, especially on a college campus. Health services would be right there to give her a hand, no matter what she decided. And they’d keep it confidential, by law.”

“True,” Casey agreed. “But the Olsons are a very traditional church-going family. There were childhood photos of Jan receiving her First Communion in the living room. And Mr. Olson mentioned that he’d donated Jan’s clothing to their church. If religion factored heavily into their lives, maybe Jan couldn’t cope with a pregnancy emotionally, even if she could take care of it physically.”

“Which brings us to the baby’s father.”

“Exactly.” Casey nodded. “Who is he and how far would he be willing to go to make this pregnancy—and the mother—go away?”

Marc still seemed pensive. “Did your friend Holly ever mention a boyfriend?”

Casey knew just where he was headed with this. “No. She definitely wasn’t seeing anyone. We were pretty close. She would have said something to me if there was a guy in her life.”

“Then if your theory turns out to be true, you’ve probably scratched the idea that we’re dealing with a serial killer. The motives in Holly’s and Jan’s cases would no longer match. Jan’s situation would be a personal, not a random, crime. For all we know, she took a fat check from the baby-daddy and disappeared. Or, at worst, he killed her. Either way, it dashes your hopes of linking this to Holly’s death.”

“I realize that.” Casey met Marc’s gaze. “And, no, it doesn’t make me happy. But I told you from the beginning that my first priority was to find out what happened to Jan Olson. And that’s what I intend to do—whether or not it links to Holly.”

“Fair enough. Then let’s interview Brenda together. Between the two of us, we’ll get everything she knows about her best friend.”

* * *

Brenda Reins was just popping a casserole into the oven when her doorbell rang.

She wiped her hands on her apron, glancing at the clock with more than a little annoyance. It was rare that her family was all together for dinner. Between Daisy Scouts, Little League, music lessons and sleepovers—not to mention Ronald’s endless hours at his law office—it was a battle to get the five of them home and gathered around the table at the same time.

She’d planned tonight for a week, synchronizing all the schedules so they could enjoy a fun evening at home—right down to the popcorn and the movie. The kids were already upstairs, finishing their homework. And Ron was wrapping up a meeting and heading home.

If the person ringing that doorbell was one of her younger kids’ friends, she was going to be one very irritated mom.

Determined to get rid of whoever was on her doorstep, Brenda marched into the foyer and flung open the front door.

Whoever she might have expected, it wasn’t the couple standing there. “Can I help you?” she asked, brows drawn in question.

“I hope so,” the woman replied. “I’m assuming you’re Brenda Reins?”

“I am. And you are...?” She waited for an answer.

“My name is Casey Woods.” Casey held up her New York private investigator’s license. “This is my associate, Marc Devereaux. We’re from the investigative firm Forensic Instincts. We’ve been hired to look into the disappearance of Jan Olson.”

“Jan?” Brenda was taken aback. “She vanished over fifteen years ago. Why are you checking into this now? Have you learned something new about what happened to her?”

“We’re not sure,” Marc said frankly. “But the investigation has been reopened. We understand that you were her closest friend. We were hoping you could take a few minutes to talk to us, to tell us more about her.”

Brenda hesitated. “You say the case has been reopened. By whom? Who hired you?” she asked.

“Technically, the NYPD hired us,” Casey responded. “They don’t have the resources to devote to such a long shot. We do. If you’re asking who requested the investigation, the answer is Jan’s father. He’s gravely ill. He’s desperate to find some closure to his daughter’s disappearance before he dies.”

Sadness clouded Brenda’s face. “Mr. Olson was such a kind man. He used to take a bunch of us out to dinner whenever he visited—and he always included the kids who lived far away and couldn’t get home to see their own families. I’m so sorry to hear he’s ill. Please, come in.”

“Thank you.” Casey preceded Marc into the house. It was a richly appointed colonial, with a grand foyer and French provincial furniture to match.

Brenda led them into the living room and gestured for them to have a seat on the sofa. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Water?”

Casey waved away the offer. “We appreciate your taking the time to talk to us. We’ll make this as brief as possible and then be on our way. Could you give us some insight into Jan Olson? Her personality, state of mind, friends, interests, classes—anything the two of you shared or that you were aware of?”

Brenda let out a long sigh. “It feels like a million years ago. Yet it still stuns me to think about it. Jan was a sweetheart with a heart of gold. I can’t imagine anyone who’d want to hurt her. She was shy and studious, with just a small circle of friends.”

“Did you know most of those friends?” Marc broke in to ask. “Would you able to compile a list?”

“Sure. Although, with the exception of our mutual friends, I have no idea where the others are now.”

“Finding them will be my problem,” Marc said, whipping out a notebook. “I just want you to detail every part of Jan’s life that you recall.”

“She wasn’t all that social. She spent most of her time buried in her textbooks, trying to decide between premed and nursing. There was a lot of academic pressure, enough to make her quit the swim team. The only thing she kept doing to clear her mind was her morning run.”

“What about guys?” Casey brought the subject right around to where she wanted it. “Did she have a boyfriend?”

A nostalgic smile touched Brenda’s lips. “Chris Towers. The two of them met at freshman orientation. They really, really liked each other, and hung out from day one in the fall. They were definitely a couple—but not the kind who were all over each other or who isolated themselves in their own little world. Chris was in prelaw and on the debate team. He invested as much time in his schoolwork as Jan did.”

“No other guys in Jan’s life?”

“None.” Brenda stated that definitively.

Casey cleared her throat. “Do you have any idea if Jan was pregnant?”

“Pregnant?” Brenda did a double take. “Absolutely not. Why would you ask that?”

“Because her father gave me her date book. And she kept meticulous track of her periods. Every month there was a dot marking the date. There were no dots the two months prior to her disappearance.”

“That was stress, not pregnancy.” Brenda shoved a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Like I said, the academic pressure was crushing, especially in Jan’s area of study. She was a wreck for weeks before she vanished. I remember her complaining that she’d missed her period. She went to health services. They confirmed that it was stress-related.”

“You’re sure?” Casey asked. “You said she was shy and quiet. She might have kept it to herself if she was pregnant.”

“Very sure. Jan was reserved, but she and I confided in each other. Besides, she came from a very religious family. She and Chris weren’t even sleeping together.”

“Okay, then, tell us about her behavior during the last weeks before she disappeared.” Marc took over from what he was obviously convinced had to be a dead end. “You said she was under pressure?”

“We all were. Jan more than others, because of her area of study. Plus, she was waitressing to make some extra cash. She was burning the candle at both ends and then some. That’s why she quit the swim team, and why she intensified her running schedule. It was just too much. I really believe the overall tension is what made her snap.”

“What do you mean by snap?” Marc asked.

Brenda’s shoulders rose and fell in a defeated gesture. “She started staying out all night studying. I couldn’t get her to take a break. She’d run a couple of miles at dawn, and then go from class to the library to her job and back. She barely stopped off at her dorm room, except to shower and change. And she withdrew—from me, from Chris, from everyone. Whenever I asked her to talk to me, she said she was too strung out. I was really worried about her. And then, abruptly, she disappeared.”

“So you’re saying you think she took off on her own?”

“We didn’t know what to think. Chris called the police. And, of course, Jan’s father. There was a brief investigation. But there was absolutely no evidence that Jan had been abducted—other than the fact that she didn’t take anything except her purse.”

“Nothing else was missing? No clothes or toiletries?”

“No.” Brenda’s brow furrowed. “Chris and I both practically ransacked her room. Neither of us could find anything out of place. That’s why we filed a police report. It didn’t make sense. But, given Jan’s state of mind, I knew what the cops were thinking—that she’d either run away or worse. They searched for a body. None was ever found.”

Marc didn’t reply. But Casey knew his wheels were turning—and she also knew exactly the way his thought process was going. Suicide didn’t fit. If Jan was going to kill herself, she wouldn’t have vanished in order to do it. And running away? That didn’t seem likely. Not without packing at least one bag of essentials. True, there was nothing concrete for the police to go on. But the lead detective on the case certainly hadn’t knocked himself out. All signs pointed to the fact that Jan Olson had been the victim of some kind of foul play.

Footsteps sounded from the second floor of Brenda’s house, and a little girl of about eight burst in. She seemed surprised to see guests with her mother, and stopped in the doorway, twirling a strand of long brown hair around her finger.

“It’s seven o’clock,” she reported shyly. “I’m ready. So are Ben and Pammy. I reminded them. And I just called Daddy. He’s ten minutes away.”

Brenda smiled, reaching out her arm for her daughter. “Thanks for rallying the troops, sweetheart. Dinner should be ready in five.” A quick glance at Casey and Marc. “This is my daughter, Annie. She’s keeping track of the time for me. It’s family dinner night.” She gave them an apologetic smile. “Is there any way we can continue this another time?”

“Absolutely. We’re heading out now.” Casey rose to her feet. “I’m sorry for interrupting you. But I’m also grateful for your time and your input.” She handed Brenda a business card. “My email address is there. If you could send me that list of Jan’s friends and any addresses or phone numbers you do have, it would be appreciated.”

“I’ll take care of it right away,” Brenda promised. “I’ll even pull out our college yearbook to double-check that I’ve included everyone.”

“Great.” Marc put away his writing pad and stood up. “One more question. You said that Jan waitressed. Do you happen to know where?”

“The Lakeside Restaurant at the Central Park Boathouse. It was close to Columbia and the tips were really good. Plus, it was convenient if Jan wanted to get in an extra run. She worked there for about six months.”

Marc nodded, adding that to his memory.

“Thank you again,” Casey said. She flashed a smile at Brenda’s daughter. “Enjoy your family time, Annie. We’re sorry to have kept your mom for so long.”

* * *

Outside the house, Casey turned to Marc. “Well, that shoots my pregnancy theory to hell. Brenda wasn’t lying. Nor was she hesitating. She knew everything—including the fact that Jan went to health services about her missed periods. Of course, I’ll want to interview Jan’s boyfriend, Chris. But I doubt he’ll give us a different story.”

“Agreed.” Marc nodded again. “But we have a lot of other ground to cover. Jan’s friends, her sports, her job. This wasn’t a suicide. Nor was it a random disappearance. There are too many indications pointing to an inciting incident, from Jan’s anxiety to her change in behavior. I need that list of friends. As for right now, I’m sure Ryan’s already found his way into the university’s records. That’ll give us insight into Jan’s academic standing and her course schedule. There’ll be professors to talk to and classmates to look up. And we’ll get Brenda’s list soon. Patrick and I are going to be very busy.”

“So am I,” Casey said. “Knowing Ryan, I have no doubt that he’s also run a cross-check on all the basic aspects of Holly’s and Jan’s lives. I want to look over those results and add any of the courses and activities I remember Holly being involved in.”

“You’re convinced the cases are related.”

“Do you blame me?”

“No.” Marc didn’t hesitate for a second. “Actually, I’m starting to agree with you. The coincidence is just too real to be accidental. If the pregnancy theory had held water, I would have felt differently. But it didn’t. Which means the parallel victimologies still stand, at least until a piece of evidence says otherwise.”

“It’s going to be another late night,” Casey said grimly. “I’m not going to sleep until I sort out all the pieces.”

* * *

Back in his cell, Glen Fisher pushed aside his empty dinner tray. The food sucked. But he wouldn’t have to live with that for much longer.

He glanced at his watch. Eight forty-five. A slow smile curved his lips.

The fun was about to begin.