"What?" Grimsbo looked alarmed.
"Gordon showed up at the home of Alan Page, our d.a., late one night and told him about the Hunter's Point case. Then she checked into a motel.
When Page called her the next morning, she was gone. Her clothing was still in the room, but she wasn't there."
"Have they looked for her?" Grimsbo asked anxiously.
"Oh, yeah. She's Page's whole case. He lost the bail hearing when he couldn't produce her."
"I don't know what to say. Did she return to Hunter's Point?"
"No. They thought she was on vacation. She never told anyone she was coming to Portland, and they haven't heard from her."
"Jesus, I hope nothing serious happened. Maybe she took off somewhere.
Didn't you say Hunter's Point P.D. thought she was on vacation?"
"If she was going on vacation she wouldn't leave her clothes and makeup."
"Yeah." Grimsl)o looked solemn. He shook his head.
Stewart watched Grimsl)o. The security chief was very upset.
"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Stewart? I'm afraid I have some work to do," Grimsbo asked.
"No, you've been a big help." Stewart laid his and Betsy's business cards on Grimsbo's desk. "If you remember anything about the case that might help our client, please call me."
"I will."
"Oh, there is one other thin. I want to talk with all the members of the Hunter's Point task force. Do you know where I can find Glen Michaels and Wayne Turner?"
"I haven't heard from Michaels in years, but Wayne will be easy to find in about two weeks."
"Oh?"
"All you gotta do is turn on your TV. He's Senator Colby's administrative assistant. He should be sitting right next to him during the confirmation hearings."
Stewart scribbled this information into his notebook, thanked Grimsbo and left. As soon as the door closed behind Stewart, Grimsbo went back to his desk and dialed a Washington, D.C., phone number. Wayne Turner answered on the first ring.
Chapter Fifteen
Reggie Stewart eased himself into a seat across the desk from Dr. Pedro Escalante. The cardiologist had put on weight over the past ten years.
His curly black hair was mostly gray. He was still cheerful with patients, but his good humor was not second nature to him anymore.
They were meeting in the cardiologist's office in the Wayside Clinic. A diploma from Brown University and another from Tufts Medical School hung on one wall. Beneath the diplomas was a child's crayon drawing of a stick-figure girl standing next to a yellow flower that was almost as tall as she was. A rainbow stretched from one side of the picture to the other.
"That your daughter?" Stewart asked. A photograph of Gloria Escalante holding a little girl on her lap stood on one corner of the doctor's desk. Stewart figured the child for the artist and asked about her as a way of easing into a conversation that was certain to evoke painful memories.
"Our adopted daughter," Escalante replied sadly.
"Gloria lost the ability to conceive after her ordeal."
Stewart nodded because he could not think of a single thing to say.
"I'm afraid you've wasted your trip, if it was made solely to talk to my wife. We have tried our best to put the past behind us."
"I appreciate why Mrs. Escalante wouldn't want to talk to me, but this is literally a matter of life and death.
We have the death penalty in Oregon and there's no doubt that my client will receive it, if he's convicted."
Dr. Escalante's features hardened. "Mr. Stewart, if your client treated those women the way my wife was treated, the death penalty would be insufficient punishment."
"You knew my client as Peter lake, Dr. Escalante.
His wife and daughter were killed by Henry Waters. He suffered the same anguish you suffered. We're talking about a frame-up of the worst kind, and your wife may have information that can prove an innocent man is being prosecuted."
Escalante looked down at his desk. "Our position is firm, Mr. Stewart.
My wife will not discuss what happened to her with anyone. It has taken ten years to put the past behind her and we are going to keep it behind her. However, I may be of some help to you. There are answers to questions I may be able to give you."
"Any help will be appreciated."
"I don't want you to think her hard, Mr. Stewart. We did consider your request for an interview most seriously, but it would be too much for Gloria. She is very strong.
Very strong. Otherwise she would not have survived. But as strong as she is, it is only within the past few years that she has been anything like the woman she used to be.
Since your call, the nightmares have returned."
"Believe me, I would never subject your wife to Mod "No, no. I understand why you're here. I don't blame you. I just want you to understand why I can't permit her to relive what happened."
"Dr. Escalante, the main reason I wanted to talk to your wife was to find out if she saw the face of the man who kidnapped her."
"if that's why you came, I'm afraid I must disappoint you. She was taken from behind. Chloroform was used.
During her captivity, she was forced to wear a leather hood with no eyelets whenever… whenever her captor… when he came."
"She never saw his face?"
"Never."
"What about the other women? Did any of them see him?"
"I don't know."
"Do you know where I can find Ann Hazelton or Samantha Reardon?"
"Ann Hazelton committed suicide six months after she was freed. Reardon was in a mental hospital for some time. She had a complete breakdown.
Simon Reardon, Samantha's husband, divorced her," Escalante said with obvious distaste. "He moved away years ago. He's a neurosurgeon. You can probably locate him through the American Medical Association. He might know where Mrs. Reardon is living."
"That's very helpful," Stewart said as he wrote the information in his notebook.
"You could ask the other investigator. He may have located her."
"Pardon?"
"There was another investigator. I wouldn't let him speak to Gloria either. He came during the summer."
"The disappearances didn't start until August."
"No, this would have been May, early June. Somewhere in there."
"What did he look like?"
"He was a big man. I thought he might have played football or boxed, because he had a broken nose."
"That doesn't sound like anyone from the d.a's office. But they wouldn't have been involved that early. Do you remember his name or where he was from?"
"He was from Portland and I have his card." The doctor opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a white business card. "Samuel Oberhurst," he said, handing the card to Stewart. The card had Oberhurst's name and a phone number, but no address. The number was the one Betsy had given him.
"Dr. Escalante, what happened to your wife and the other women after they were kidnapped?"
Escalante took a deep breath. Stewart could see his pain even after — all these years.
"My wife told me that there were three women with her. They were kept in an old farmhouse. She isn't clear where the house was situated, because she was unconscious when he brought her there and she was in shock when she left. Almost dead from starvation. It was a miracle."
Escalante paused. He ran his tongue across his lips and breathed deeply, again.
"The women were kept naked in stalls. They were chained at the ankles.
Whenever he would come, he was masked and he would make them put on the hoods. Then he… would torture them." Escalante closed his eyes and shook his head, as if trying to clear it of images too painful to behold. "I have never asked her to tell me what he did, but I have seen my wife's medical records."
Escalante paused again.
"I don't need that information, Doctor. It's not necessary."