Daniel Vartanian knew the observation was fair. “He’s still my father, Frank.”
“Uh-huh.” Frank frowned when the lock didn’t budge. “I was sure that was the one. I’ve had this key since the last time your folks took a long vacation.”
Daniel watched Frank try five different keys, the feeling of apprehension in his gut swelling to dark dread. “I’ve got a key.”
Frank stepped back with a glare. “Then why the hell didn’t you say so, boy?”
Daniel lifted a brow. “Wouldn’t want to go steppin’ on toes,” he said sarcastically. “‘Jurisdictions bein’ what they are.’” The words had been Frank’s own, uttered just last night when he’d called to say Daniel’s parents might be missing.
“Pull that GBI stick outta your ass, Special Agent Vartanian, or I will, and then I’ll whip you with it.” The threat was not an idle one. Frank had tanned Daniel’s hide more than once for one prank or another. But it was because Frank cared, which was more than he could say for his father. Judge Arthur Vartanian had been too busy to care.
“Don’t knock those GBI sticks,” Daniel said mildly, though his heart had begun to pound. “They’re the latest technology, like all our toys. Even you might be impressed.”
“Damn bureaucrats,” Frank muttered. “Offer ‘technology’ and ‘expertise,’ but only if they run the show. Give ’em an inch and pretty soon they’ve descended like locusts.”
That, too, was a fair observation, although Daniel doubted his superiors at the Georgia Bureau of Investigation would see it as such. He’d found the key, but now had to focus on steadying his trembling hand. “I’m one of those locusts, Frank,” he said.
Frank huffed, irritated. “Dammit, Daniel, you know what I meant. Art and Carol are your parents. I called you, not the GBI. I don’t want my county overrun by bureaucrats.”
Daniel’s key didn’t fit the lock either. But it had been a long time, so that in and of itself was not a cause for alarm. “When was the last time you saw them?”
“November. About two weeks before Thanksgivin’. Your mama was headed in to Angie’s and your daddy was down at the courthouse.”
“Then it was a Wednesday,” Daniel said and Frank nodded. Angie’s was the town’s beauty shop where his mother had kept a standing Wednesday appointment since before he was born. “But why was Dad at the courthouse?”
“Retirement was hard on your father. He missed the work. The people.”
Arthur Vartanian missed the power of being the circuit court judge in a little Georgia town, Daniel thought, but kept it to himself. “You said my mother’s doctor called you.”
“Yes. That’s when I realized how long it had been since I’d seen either of them.” Frank sighed. “I’m sorry, son. I assumed she’d at least told you and Susannah.”
That his mother had kept such a thing from her own children had been hard to accept. Breast cancer. She’d had surgery and chemo and had never said a word.
“Yeah, well, things haven’t been so good between any of us for a while.”
“Your mama missed several appointments, so the nurse got worried and called me. I checked around and found your mother told Angie she and your father were going to visit your grandma in Memphis the day she canceled her December hair appointments.”
“But they didn’t go to Memphis.”
“No. Your grandma said that your mother told her that they were spending the holidays with your sister, but when I called Susannah she said she hadn’t heard from your parents in more than a year. That’s when I called you.”
“That’s just too many lies, Frank,” Daniel said. “We’re going in.” He shattered the small windowpane to the side of the door with his elbow, reached in and unlocked the door. The house was quiet as a tomb and smelled musty.
Stepping over the threshold was like stepping back in time. In his mind Daniel saw his father standing at the foot of the stairs, his knuckles battered and bloody. Mama stood at his father’s side, tears running down her face. Susannah stood alone, a desperate plea on her face for him to abandon the confrontation that she didn’t understand. It would be easier on Susannah if she never knew, so he’d never told her.
He’d walked away, planning never to return. The best-laid plans… “You take the upstairs, Frank. I’ll take this level and the basement.”
Daniel’s first look confirmed his parents had gone on a trip. The water was off and every appliance unplugged. His mother had a fear of fire by toaster oven, he recalled.
He cleared the first floor and heart pounding, descended into the basement, visions of bodies he’d found throughout his years as a cop bombarding his mind. But there was no smell of death and the basement was as orderly as it had always been. He climbed the stairs to find Frank waiting in the hall by the front door.
“They took lots of clothes,” Frank said. “Their suitcases are gone.”
“This doesn’t make a lick of sense.” Daniel walked into each room again, pausing in his father’s office. “He was a judge for twenty years, Frank. He made enemies.”
“I considered that. I asked Wanda to pull records of his old cases.”
Surprised and comforted, Daniel gave Frank a weary smile. “Thanks.”
Frank shrugged. “Wanda will be thankful for the overtime. Come on, Daniel. Let’s go back to town, get something to eat and figure out what to do next.”
“In a minute. Let me check his desk.” He pulled on the drawer, surprised when it slid right open. Staring up at him was a brochure for the Grand Canyon and his throat tightened. His mother had always wanted to see the Grand Canyon, but his father was always too busy and they never went. It looked like he’d finally made the time to go.
Suddenly the reality of his mother’s cancer hit him square in the face, becoming more than a secret she’d withheld. My mother’s going to die. He cleared his throat harshly. “Look, Frank.” He moved the brochures to the blotter, fanning them out.
“Grand Canyon, Lake Tahoe, Mount Rushmore.” Frank sighed. “I guess your daddy finally took her on that trip he’d been promising all these years.”
“But why not just say that’s where they were going? Why all the lies?”
Frank squeezed his shoulder. “I guess your mama doesn’t want anyone to know she’s sick. For Carol, it’s a pride thing. Let her have her dignity. Let’s go get supper.”
His heart heavy, Daniel started to rise but a noise stopped him. “What was that?”
“What?” Frank asked. “I didn’t hear anything.”
Daniel listened and heard it again. A high whirring sound. “His computer is running.”
“That’s impossible. It’s turned off.”
The monitor was dark. But Daniel laid his hand on the computer and his breath caught. “It’s warm and it’s running. Somebody is using this computer, right now.” He hit the button on the monitor and together they watched an online banking screen appear. The cursor moved with ghostly precision, untouched by either of them.
“Shit, it’s like watching a Ouija board,” Frank murmured.
“It’s Dad’s online bill pay system. Someone just paid Dad’s mortgage.”
“Your daddy?” Frank asked, confusion obvious in his voice.
“I don’t know.” Daniel’s jaw hardened. “But you can be damn sure I’ll find out.”
Philadelphia, Sunday, January 14, 2:15
P.M.
Vito stared at the “funky ape sculpture” with increasing annoyance. He’d been waiting for more than half an hour but there was no sign of Katherine’s friend. He was frustrated and cold, having rolled down his window for fresh air. The smell of Jane Doe was in his hair and his sinuses and he couldn’t stand himself.
He’d called Katherine a half dozen times with no success. He couldn’t have missed her. He’d been early and the only person he’d seen was a college girl sitting on a bench at the bus stop about fifteen feet behind his truck.