Missing Daughter Read online

  “We’ll go in about ten minutes, and we’ll keep it short,” Retler said. “This will likely go live across the country, so it’s important to bear in mind that whoever is responsible will likely see you. This is the best way to speak directly to them, and with everyone watching, it could lead to a break. You don’t want to antagonize them. You just want your daughter back—stress that. Okay?”

  Karen and Ryan exchanged nervous glances.

  “We’ll do it,” Karen said.

  * * *

  A small portable podium stood on the sidewalk in front of the Lanes’ house, making for an impromptu press area.

  Near it, several TV news cameras topped tripods. Operators stood ready as did more than two dozen other reporters with camera phones, notebooks, recorders, and microphones with station flags. Last-minute calls regarding coordinates and feeds were made to networks as on-camera people primped and preened hair and teeth, checked earpieces and handheld mikes.

  When he emerged with Ryan and Karen, Syracuse police sergeant Roy Retler began the conference by identifying himself and the Lanes, then outlining the case.

  As he spoke, Karen slipped into a surreal state.

  Maddie’s gone, disappeared in the night from our home. Why is this happening? Oh God, please help me...

  When Retler had finished summarizing events, he continued, “I want to stress that we have increasing resources committed to this investigation, and will be forming a multiagency task force with Onondaga County, New York State Police, the FBI and others. I’ll take a few questions, then the Lanes will make a statement. Let’s get started.”

  “Do you have a suspect at this time?”

  “No.”

  “Is this a kidnapping for ransom, Sergeant?”

  “At this point we don’t know if it’s for ransom, or not.”

  “Is it possible that Maddison is a runaway?”

  “It’s possible, but indications are that someone other than Maddison entered and exited the Lane home through her bedroom window in the rear, so we’re treating this as an abduction.”

  “Is it possible she communicated with someone online, someone posing as a friend?”

  “That’s one line of the investigation. We’re looking at all computers and devices used by her and her family.”

  “Does that include computers used by people employed at Mr. Lane’s drywall business?”

  “Yes. The family has been quick to volunteer all devices for analysis and cooperate with the investigation.”

  “Have you questioned and cleared any members of the family? Have you ruled anybody out?”

  “We’re not ruling out anybody until we concentrate on a suspect. We’re looking at every aspect of this case. We’re not eliminating anybody, but we have some strong leads that are outside the family that we’re following.”

  “Can you say what those leads are?”

  “No.”

  “Have there been any red flags from Maddison’s school to indicate a fellow student, or teacher as a suspect? What about her coaches and instructors? We understand she takes gymnastics.”

  “We’ll be interviewing everyone.”

  “Have you administered any polygraph tests at this stage?”

  “I’m not going to discuss polygraphs.”

  “Have you interviewed inmates at the halfway house on the other side of Lucifer’s Green?”

  “That’s part of the investigation.”

  “Do you know the name of the person Maddison Lane last had contact with?”

  “That’s under investigation.”

  “Have you obtained search warrants for anything related to this case?”

  “I’m not going to discuss warrants.”

  “Do you have any items that have been sent to the lab?”

  “I’m not going to discuss potential evidence.”

  “We understand something of interest was discovered in the forest after a K-9 unit picked up Maddison’s scent. Can you indicate what that is?”

  “Again, we’re not prepared to discuss that.”

  “Do the Lanes have home security cameras?”

  “Unfortunately no. They were planning to install a system prior to this happening, but hadn’t yet.”

  “Is that a red flag?”

  “I’m not going to speculate or discuss that.”

  “Has anything emerged from home security cameras in the neighborhood?”

  “We’re analyzing that.”

  “If this is an abduction, do you have any idea of what the motive might be?”

  “Not at this time. Okay, before we end this we’ll call on Karen and Ryan Lane to each make a brief statement. They will take no questions.”

  Exhausted and heartbroken, the Lanes stepped to the podium and into the brilliant TV lights. Ryan glanced down at the words on the folded sheet of notebook paper that Cole had given him, then looked into the cameras and cleared his throat.

  “Maddie, if you can see or hear us, please know that we’re doing all we can to help you. We want you to come home safely to us. We love you.”

  He turned to Karen and put his arm around her, pulling her tight to him. Trembling, she brushed a tear from her cheek, nearly overwhelmed by the cameras, the intense light glaring at her as if in judgment.

  This is real. This is happening. My daughter, my baby’s missing.

  Karen’s throat went dry. She glanced at Ryan then saw Cole. Both men nodded encouragement. She had to do this for Maddie.

  At that moment, the cameras tightened on her, the lines on her face, her reddened eyes. Here was Karen Lane, the anguished mother, a working woman in her cashier’s smock, whose daughter was missing.

  Taking a deep breath, she unfolded her small piece of notepaper and as she spoke her voice quavered.

  “Sweetheart, if you see me, or hear my voice, I love you. We’re doing everything to bring you home safely. Please know that I love you so much. Whoever did this, please—” Karen’s voice broke. Sobbing, she gasped for air. “Please let our daughter come home. I’m begging you.”

  17

  Crystal Hedrick twisted her ring whenever she was nervous.

  Now as her father faced the two detectives—the woman’s name was Asher and the man’s was Zubik—standing in their living room, Crystal twisted it more than she’d ever done before.

  “We’re going to do all we can to help you find Maddison Lane, but I want to know—does our daughter need a lawyer?” Her dad, a welder who feared nothing, stood between her and the police, his tattooed arms folded across his chest. “On the phone you said you wanted to interview her, but I know how these things can go.”

  “Mr. Hedrick,” Asher said, “I assure you she does not require an attorney. We only want to talk to her about her time babysitting at the Lanes’ home last evening.”

  “Daddy, I want to help,” Crystal said, looking at her mother then the TV.

  The sound was off, but it showed news footage of the activity at the Lanes’ home, the news conference, the helicopter over the woods, worried neighbors searching for Maddie. Crystal wanted to rush to the Lanes’ to help find Maddie, but the two officers who first came to their door to talk to her had requested that she remain home. Then a detective called to tell her dad they were on their way to talk to her some more, and he abandoned his plans to go to the auto show.

  “Look,” her dad said to the detectives. “I know how an ‘interview’ can turn into an interrogation. Crystal did nothing wrong. She’s just the sitter, and those Lane kids were safe in their beds when she left.”

  “Mr. Hedrick.” Zubik looked hard at him. “I’m sure it’s not your intention to make it difficult for us to do our job, but we can interview your daughter privately here, or in our offices downtown. Which will it be?”

  A moment of silence passed before it was broken by C
rystal’s mother.

  “Would you like some coffee?” her mom offered the detectives.

  “Yes, thank you,” Zubik said.

  A few minutes later, Crystal was alone with the detectives on the sofa in the paneled basement, the walls covered with framed photos of classic cars. The door was shut, and she was rotating her ring as they started by switching on a small digital recorder.

  They saw the tears brimming in Crystal’s eyes.

  “Crystal,” Zubik started, “it’s okay to be nervous. I’m going to tell you right off that after we’re done, we’d like you to volunteer your phone to us so we can clone it. That’s important. Can you shut it off for now?”

  “Okay.”

  “And we’ll need your fingerprints later today. It’s all standard and it will help us very much. You want to help us, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. All you have to do is tell us the truth,” Zubik began.

  For the next several minutes, Crystal detailed her time spent babysitting Maddie and Tyler. She answered every question Zubik asked about her knowledge of the children and the Lane family before he came back to ask again about last night.

  “Crystal, did you invite your boyfriend, Zachary Keppler, into the Lanes’ home last night even though it was against the family’s rules?”

  Crystal swallowed and twisted her ring.

  “Yes.” Her chin crumpled.

  “Had you ever done this before?”

  “Yes, a couple of times.”

  “And when you did it last night, was this after you put Maddie and Tyler to bed or before?”

  “After. When the movie was over.”

  “When did Zachary leave?”

  “Just before midnight.”

  “When Zachary picked you up, where did you both go?”

  “He drove me home in his dad’s car.”

  “What time did you arrive home here?”

  “It was a little after midnight.”

  “Can anyone verify that?”

  “My mom was up watching a movie on TV.”

  “Do you know where Zachary may have gone after taking you home?”

  Crystal shrugged. “Home, I guess.”

  “You’re not sure?”

  “Well, I figure home because he told me he had to leave town in the morning.”

  “Leave town? Did he say why?”

  “No.”

  “Did you ask him?”

  “Yes, and he got a little mad. He said it was private and didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “Do you know where he was going?”

  “No, but I think he had to take a bus because his father would not let him drive his car outside of the city.”

  “Have you tried reaching Zachary on his phone this morning?”

  “Yes. I texted and called but he hasn’t answered.”

  The detectives each made notes.

  “Did Zachary ever see Maddie last night?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know if Zachary has ever met Maddie?”

  “I think when we saw them once or twice at the mall.”

  “Was he attracted to her?”

  “What? No, she’s twelve.”

  “Did he ever speak of her?”

  “Once he said she was real cute, that’s all.”

  “Did he ever enter Maddison’s room last night?”

  “No. I was with him the whole time on the sofa or in the kitchen. He had some pizza and a soda.”

  “What did you do on the sofa?”

  “Watched videos on our phones, we kissed and stuff.”

  “Did you have sex?”

  All the color drained from Crystal’s face.

  “Crystal, you have to tell us the truth.”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Was Zachary ever out of your sight the whole time he was in the house?”

  She didn’t respond; she was so worried so afraid.

  “Crystal?”

  “Yes, one time he went outside because I told him to go outside.”

  “Why did you tell him to go outside?”

  “After we—after, you know, he wanted to smoke a joint, and I didn’t want him to do it in the house.”

  “So you didn’t go outside with him?”

  “No. I don’t like pot.”

  “Where exactly did he go to smoke?”

  “I told him to go in the backyard.”

  “The backyard?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s where the window to Maddison’s room is, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “And after Zachary drove you home, he said he’d be leaving town in the morning but wouldn’t tell you the reason?”

  Crystal wiped away a tear on her cheek and twisted her ring.

  “He didn’t do anything wrong. I know he didn’t.”

  18

  Minutes after Zubik and Asher had returned to work at their desks in the Public Safety Building, their captain, Moe Tilden, approached them while reading an advisory on his phone.

  “We grabbed Zachary Keppler before he boarded a bus for Rochester. They’ll process him then bring him to you, Stan.”

  “That’s a break,” Zubik said.

  “It is.” Tilden was still looking at his phone. “Got a few updates for you. First is on the warrant for phone records. The Lanes’ cell phone provider is sending us a log of the girl’s messages. No content, just numbers, times. Last one she made was at 1:47 this morning.”

  “But we have the number she communicated with?”

  “Yes.” Tilden cursed as he read the update. “It’s linked to a burner. That may dead-end us on who owns it. We’ll get the FBI to help us on that.”

  “What about our crime scene people?” Zubik said. “Any latents from what we found in the forest? Anything from the ladder or her room yet?”

  “Nothing yet. It’s all ongoing. We’re gridding the woods. We’re also working with Onondaga to help us get people to the halfway house to start checking on the whereabouts of inmates, and we’ve got tips coming in, a lot on the go.” Before Tilden left, he said, “We’ll have a case-status meeting later today.”

  Asher called Zubik to her desk where she’d been digging into Zachary Keppler’s background. “Take a look at this.” She pointed her pen to the file on her monitor. “He’s got no record, nothing, but this is interesting.”

  Zubik read the file then stuck out his bottom lip, looked up to see an officer standing before them. He was with the unit that had picked up Keppler at the bus station.

  “We’ve just put your guy in number two,” the officer said.

  “Thank you,” Zubik said. “Good work.”

  * * *

  So this was Zachary Keppler, the kid who gave Maddison Lane’s father a “bad vibe,” Zubik thought as he and Asher sat across from him.

  Keppler had an abundance of piercings, a nose stud, lip loops, an eyebrow ring and earrings. His arms and neck were laced with tattoos. Sitting there alone at the table, he looked like a scared seventeen-year-old.

  “What’s going on? Nobody will tell me anything. Can I call my dad?”

  “I’m Detective Zubik. This is Detective Asher. We’d just like to talk to you, Zachary.” Zubik nodded to the camera in the upper corner. “And you should know that this is being recorded.”

  Keppler cast an eye to the camera. “I like to be called Zach.”

  “All right, Zach. First we have to advise you that you have the right to remain silent...”

  Keppler’s jaw dropped as Zubik continued.

  “...anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you und
erstand these rights?”

  “What the f—Why’re you telling me this?”

  “Do you understand what I just said?”

  “Yes, but what’s going on? I didn’t do anything. I don’t need no lawyer to make me look guilty of something when I didn’t do anything. Shit.”

  “If you’d like to help us and continue, then sign the form Detective Asher is providing you.”

  Asher slid the paper and pen to Keppler. He signed it, dropped the pen.

  “Why’s this happening? Why’re you doing this?”

  “Are you going to sit there and pretend you don’t know what’s happened to Maddison Lane, Zach?”

  “Lane?” He thought. “Is that the family my girlfriend babysits for?”

  “You know what happened. It’s all over the news.”

  “No, I don’t know. My phone’s been dead.”

  “Maddison Lane is missing. She disappeared from her bedroom last night.”

  Keppler looked at Asher then back to Zubik.

  “Seriously? She’s missing?”

  “You were at the Lane home last night, weren’t you?”

  Keppler hesitated.

  “Weren’t you?”

  “Yes. I was there with Crystal.”

  “Why did you have to leave town this morning?”

  “It was personal, private.”

  “You better tell us and tell us the truth.”

  “I was headed to Albion to see my mom.”

  “She’s at the women’s prison there,” Asher said, glancing at her notes. “Doing three years for identity theft and fraud. Seems she was pretty good at hacking and stealing things online.”

  Keppler lowered his head. “I don’t tell anybody that. Things aren’t so good at home with my dad and stepmom. They’re addicted to drugs, opioids.”

  “Why did you need to see your mom, Zach?” Asher asked.

  “I go about once a month to see her. She did a bad thing, but she’s a good person and she’s my mom. We just talk.”

  “Were you going to ask her for help, advice?” Zubik said.

  “Advice about what?”

  “About the situation you’re in?”