Missing Daughter Page 6

  “You tell me right now! Did you find her?” Ryan’s voice got louder and Karen now stood next to him, alarmed. “We have a right to know if you found our daughter out there!” Ryan said. “Tell me now or I swear to God, I’ll go out there to look for myself and you’ll have to shoot me to stop me!”

  The air tensed.

  Zubik, the seasoned detective, knew it was critical to protect evidence, to be strategic when revealing and playing his cards, that knowledge of the facts was essential to controlling the case. And while he also knew the pain the victims’ families suffered, he knew too that in most cases a family member was behind the crime.

  “I understand you’re upset, Mr. Lane. But we need to talk privately. There’re matters we need to discuss. Please.”

  Zubik allowed a moment for Ryan’s blood to cool and for him to yield to his request. Then, before he and Asher led Ryan and Karen away to talk, Cole Lane moved to join them. Zubik recognized him and said, “We’ve got this, Cole, just Ryan and Karen.”

  Cole knew Zubik from the old days and didn’t push it. He resumed talking with his investigators.

  Standing next to a patrol car at the edge of their driveway while other officers kept people away provided the detectives and the Lanes privacy.

  “We did not locate Maddison in the forest,” Zubik said.

  “You didn’t?” Ryan said.

  “No.”

  “Oh thank God!” Karen said. “We thought she was—”

  Zubik held up his palm. “I know. What we found could be part of the investigation, so we’re treating it as potential evidence. You have to appreciate that I can’t tell you what it is at this time, but what we found may or may not help us. Do you understand?”

  Ryan and Karen nodded.

  “Now, we’ve got a lot of people working flat-out to help us locate Maddison. We’ve got people here from our Missing Persons unit, who can coordinate search efforts with the community, but most important, Fran and I are going to need your full cooperation.”

  “Of course, whatever you need,” Karen said.

  “Thank you. We’re going into your house. We’ll evaluate things. It’ll take a little time, but when we come out, we’ll tell you what we need next.”

  Ryan stared hard at Zubik.

  “Detective Zubik,” he said. “Do you believe Maddie’s okay? Tell us what your gut tells you. We need to know.”

  Zubik looked into Ryan’s eyes, then Karen’s.

  “We’ve found no evidence that she’s been harmed. At this stage, she’s missing, and we’ll continue investigating until we locate her and bring her home to her family.”

  “Thank you.” Karen blinked back her tears. “Thank you.”

  * * *

  Careful to follow the same paths taken earlier by the officers, Zubik and Asher carried out a preliminary investigation of the Lanes’ vehicles, the garage and the yard surrounding the house, the ladder and the area under Maddison’s bedroom window.

  “Greer and Porter were smart to seal the place right away,” Asher said as they pulled on shoe covers and fresh latex gloves.

  They went inside and continued examining rooms in the house, concentrating on Maddie’s bedroom. It smelled mildly of soap, Zubik thought, as he and Asher examined it. They first focused on the muddied carpet, the mud streak near the sill and the window, taking photos and notes.

  “That’s a strong indication someone from outside entered and exited through the window,” Asher said. “Dad says all the doors were locked and chained from the inside.”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “What’re you thinking?”

  “She could’ve climbed out. Jumped.”

  “Jumped? Stan, that’s a six-to eight-foot drop.”

  “She could’ve hung down from the window. The grass is soft. Then she could’ve got the ladder, climbed back in and out, or she could’ve had someone’s help.”

  “Boy, you won’t rule anything out, will you?”

  “It’s early. We don’t have all the facts. We’ll have to see what Crime Scene comes up with, and where our cyber people are at on the phone’s service carrier so we can find out who Maddison last communicated with before she left this room.”

  They turned their attention to the bed, still unmade and untouched from when Maddison last slept in it. Zubik and Asher took either side and felt under the mattress for anything concealed there, possibly a diary.

  Asher then looked under the bed while Zubik sifted gingerly through Maddison’s dresser drawers before he went to her closet and looked through her clothes, checking her pockets. Then he got on his knees and searched inside her shoes.

  “What’s in there, Stan?”

  “Everybody has secrets, Fran. She could’ve been approached by her abductor before. He may have given her a gift, tricked her into keeping their relationship secret. Shoes and pockets can be hiding places.”

  Finding nothing, he took stock of all the walls, Maddison’s posters of pop stars, then the shelves crowded with her stuffed animals. He picked up a white polar bear.

  “Ice Baby,” Asher said.

  “Who?”

  “Ice Baby, Stan. From Greer and Porter’s briefing and the photo we’ve posted of her. Ice Baby is her favorite stuffed animal.” Looking around, taking video and notes Asher said, “Stan, someone was in this room, someone who took her or lured her, and I’m getting a bad feeling. What do you say?”

  “We gotta keep an open mind, Fran. It could’ve been someone lurking in the neighborhood stalking her. She also could’ve faked the whole thing to get attention, get back at her mother. Or it could’ve been staged to cover up another crime. We don’t know.” Zubik looked up at the fluorescent glow of the dark stars and moons on the ceiling.

  They weren’t glowing now.

  Zubik didn’t like being here in this little girl’s room, touching her things, but it was his job. He’d looked upon corpses of children, and into the faces of killers. He’d touched death and confronted evil in all its forms. It was his sworn duty to learn the truth.

  Wherever it leads me.

  11

  What’s taking the detectives so long in the house?

  Karen looked beyond her home to the dark woods of Lucifer’s Green.

  What did they find out there that Zubik thinks is potential evidence? Why won’t they tell us anything?

  Questions tormented Karen amid the upheaval surrounding her home, the helicopter, distant sirens and more people arriving to help. She felt like she was outside her body as she watched Cole directing volunteers and Jill, her hand on Tyler’s back, comforting him as he and Dalton studied their phones.

  Then Karen looked at her phone, pinging in her hand with supportive messages from friends but nothing that pointed to where Maddie was. It tore at Karen’s heart staring at Maddie’s smiling face on the screen.

  My baby, my little girl, what happened? Did I say something that set you off? Did you run away with a friend to show me you’re angry, to hurt me? Well, you showed me and you hurt me. But is this what you think being mature is? My God, you’re a twelve-year-old little girl!

  Karen’s fingertips traced Maddie’s face without touching it.

  Okay, I’m not perfect. I’m not a good mother, I’ve made mistakes, I’m horrible, I’m “ruining your life,” but I’m doing the best I can and I love you so, so much. Oh God, did some monster take you in the night? What happened? Why won’t anyone tell us anything?

  Karen lifted her head from her phone, brushed away her tears and saw Detectives Zubik and Asher coming toward them.

  * * *

  Zubik pulled off his gloves.

  “We’d like you to come with us now to our offices so we can talk further.”

  “Why?” Ryan asked. “We’ve told Porter and Greer all we know.”

  “You gave the
m informal statements. We need your help with other matters.”

  “What other matters?”

  “We’ll need formal statements from you, Mrs. Lane and Tyler. And we’d like your consent to allow our scene people to search and process your home, to perform additional facets of our investigation.”

  “Like what?” Ryan said.

  “Like tracking your daughter’s phone, searching for evidence on all the computers in your home, all your phones, your vehicles, credit cards, bank records, things of that nature. We’ll need you to sign the consenting documents at our office. We’ll also collect your DNA and fingerprints to compare with anything our techs find.”

  “DNA? Fingerprints?” Karen said. “Why do this with us?”

  “To point us in the right direction to find Maddison.”

  “But shouldn’t you be searching everywhere, knocking on doors?”

  “We’re doing that, Mrs. Lane, and we’re bringing in more people. But we have to ensure the investigation is thorough, and for that to happen we need your cooperation.”

  “But you’re treating us like we’re the criminals!” Karen covered her face with her hands.

  “I know this is upsetting, Mrs. Lane, but we need to proceed this way as quickly as possible so we can concentrate on the elements that will help us locate Maddison and bring her home to you.”

  “All right,” Ryan told Zubik. “We’ll do whatever you want, whatever it takes to find her.”

  Asher signaled officers to escort Tyler to them and summoned a patrol car for the family, an action that prompted Cole and Jill to join them.

  “What’s going on?” Cole asked.

  “They want to take us downtown to get another statement and get us to sign off on searching our house,” Ryan said.

  “I’ll go with you,” Cole said.

  “That’s not happening,” Zubik intervened. “You know how this works, Cole. And so do the people you brought with you.”

  “Maddie’s my niece, Stan,” Cole said. “I’m going to do all I can to help find her. We’re putting up a web page and offering a ten-thousand-dollar reward for information.”

  “We appreciate the help, but I suggest you work with our Missing Persons team on your efforts, keep them aware of anything you learn. You can help at the center, logging names, checking IDs, coordinating the neighborhood search and collecting reports.”

  Cole’s jawline tensed as he nodded and said, “You’ve got to look at that residential reentry center on DeBerry and the registry.”

  “We’ll look at everything, Cole.” Zubik turned to the Lanes. “All set?”

  “Wait, can I get dressed first?” Ryan looked down at his sweats and T-shirt.

  “Can I change out of my work smock?” Karen asked.

  “No, I’m sorry,” Zubik said. “Your house is sealed. No one enters until it’s processed and released.”

  “How long with that be?” Karen asked.

  “No more than two days or so. You’ll need to arrange a place to stay until then,” Asher said.

  “You’ll stay with us,” Jill said.

  “Thank you.”

  After quick hugs, Tyler, Ryan and Karen went with the officers and got into a marked patrol car as the news crews captured images of the family being taken from the scene by police.

  The back of the car smelled of air freshener and cologne, Karen thought. She looked at the plastic shield severing the front and rear seats, and imagined the types of people who’d sat in the back.

  Criminals and anguished families like us.

  She looked over to Ryan. He was lost in his thoughts. Tyler sat between them, and she held tight to his hand and offered him a weakened trembling smile. In her other hand, she squeezed a tissue so hard her knuckles whitened.

  The police radio chattered with staccato, coded transmissions, all alien to Karen as she watched their neighborhood float by, like pieces of her life. There was the intersection where Ryan turned down the road that led to his shop. Their financial worries about the drywall business had been eclipsed. Now there was the avenue she took to her job at ShopToSave City, and the street that led to Tyler and Maddie’s school. And only a few blocks back was Blue Sparrow Park, where she had taken Tyler and Maddie when they were little. They loved the wading pool, the swings, teeter-totter and sandbox.

  They were so happy there, so safe.

  Now, the streets rolling past outside the police car window began to blur as Karen was assailed by her greatest fear.

  Will I ever see my daughter again?

  12

  The Syracuse Police Department’s headquarters was in the Public Safety Building downtown on South State Street. The Criminal Investigations Division was on the third floor and consisted of a collection of cubicles, workstations and offices.

  The Lane family followed Zubik and Asher through it like explorers who’d landed in a new world, navigating around municipal-style metal desks with veneer tops, some cluttered, some organized, all unoccupied. Steel file cabinets and bookcases holding manuals stood against the walls, which were pegged with maps, shift schedules, government notices, plaques and a large glass-framed poster of the department’s crest.

  The still air suggested carpet cleaner and stale coffee; the calm belied the family’s desperation. The detectives sat the Lanes at a table. They waited with Zubik, and Karen put her arm around Tyler. Most days he’d shrug her off, but now he welcomed it. A minute later, Asher returned with a file folder.

  “This is pretty routine.” Asher placed legal papers and pens before Ryan and Karen. “Signing these gives us consent to examine your home and vehicles, all your contents, for evidence that could help us find your daughter.”

  “We’d also like your consent to clone your phones for the same purpose,” Zubik said. “If you give your phones to us now, our Computer Forensic Unit can do it quickly and we’ll get them right back to you.”

  “Doing this cloning gives you access to all the information on our phones?” Ryan asked, exchanging looks with Karen and Tyler.

  “Yes. It will help the investigation if someone linked to Maddison’s disappearance tried, or tries, contacting you.”

  Ryan weighed the request for a few seconds, then reached for his phone. “All right, we’ve got nothing to hide.”

  “Yes.” Karen put hers alongside her husband’s. “Anything to find her.”

  Tyler placed his phone on the table too.

  “We’re also in the process of getting a subpoena,” Zubik said.

  “A subpoena?” Ryan said.

  “For your phone carrier so we can access the server for all of the messages on Maddison’s phone. Our CFU people will determine who she was in contact with before she went missing. That should all happen quickly, but sometimes there are hold ups.”

  Ryan and Karen signed every needed document as required. Zubik collected the paperwork with the phones.

  “Later, we’ll also get your fingerprints,” Zubik said, “which we’ll use as an elimination set when we search for evidence to determine who else was in her room and your house.”

  “Are we done?”

  “Not yet,” Zubik said. “Now we’ll get formal statements from each of you and ask some questions. We’ll talk to you individually. Karen and Tyler, we’ll start by taking you to separate interview rooms.”

  “I can’t be with Tyler?” Karen asked.

  “No,” Zubik said. “As I mentioned, we’ll do this individually with each of you. Ryan, you’ll have to wait right here, please.”

  * * *

  Alone at the table, his pulse drumming in his ears, Ryan glimpsed some of the empty desks and the family photos detectives had next to their computer monitors. As the floor’s ventilation fans hummed, he was pulled back to the moment in his life when he, Cole and their grieving mom were in Kraig and McWillougbie’s Fune
ral Home, selecting a casket for his father, who had never specified his choice. Ryan wanted mahogany, the same as his dad’s desk. Cole wanted bronze. It lasted longer. Their mother settled it: oak, because it was the old man’s favorite tree.

  Why am I thinking of that now?

  Ryan forced the thought from his mind as he strained to understand what was happening to his family. His gaze shifted when he heard...

  “...yes, Detective Martinez, Greg Martinez, Syracuse Police...”

  Ryan turned; the voice was coming from behind a high-walled cubicle. Obviously someone was there working, talking on the phone.

  “Yes, we’re trying to locate Zach...that’s right Zachary Keppler... I’ve called his phone and sent messages...just have him call me, Detective Martinez...”

  Zach Keppler was the name of their babysitter’s boyfriend, who Ryan suspected had been in the house, who’d come to pick up Crystal a few hours before Maddie disappeared.

  13

  Tyler was uneasy when the detectives opened the door to a windowless room. It was the kind of room where they took you if you were in serious trouble, he thought.

  The walls were white, like the ceiling. In the middle was a solitary table with a chair on one side, which they asked him to take. The detectives sat in the two chairs across from him with their notebooks and files.

  “I’m Syracuse Police Detective Stan Zubik, with Syracuse Police Detective Fran Asher,” one detective began, stating the date and location. “We’re here interviewing Tyler Lane. Tyler, are you nervous?”

  He nodded.

  “Son, see the camera up in the corner? This is being recorded so you have to say your answers out loud for us okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Are you nervous?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s perfectly normal, that’s okay. Let’s start with you spelling your full name for us and giving us your date of birth. Could you do that for us?”

  Tyler did.

  “Good,” Zubik said. “Now, I’ll go over a few things. If you don’t understand any of my questions or you’re not sure what I mean, just ask me to explain, all right?”