Pamela’s friends. I assumed Carmen was doing the same, but no one updated me or Sera.
We knocked on both their front doors at least once a day, but no one opened them. Maybe Mac had told them we were in contact with the agents. Maybe they just didn’t like us.
I wasn’t sure what we’d have done if someone had answered. An abusive boyfriend or crazy mother still seemed the most likely scenarios, and I had no idea how to simultaneously help and investigate the two families.
The agents checked in regularly, and they confirmed what we already suspected. Pamela’s friend knew nothing. She’d merely been an excuse, a distraction while Pamela snuck away with James. She had no more idea where they’d gone than we did.
We had little information to offer them in turn, a fact of which they were grudgingly accepting.
Vivian spent hours on the computer, digging up every bit of information we could find on our key suspects. She learned that James got his driver’s license the moment he turned sixteen, earned Bs and Cs in school despite strong test scores, took regular guitar lessons in Tahoe City, and was a menace on a snowboard. Nothing in his history hinted at violence.
Carmen’s story was more complicated. Vivian’s research indicated a wild past, the kind of life that felt more appropriate to a big cat than the preppy trappings that now surrounded her. In high school, she’d been the sort of student who, if she’d spent half the energy on her studies that she spent attempting to skip class and outsmart the teachers, she’d have been valedictorian. She’d skipped college, preferring to educate herself in the San Francisco nightlife. She only stayed in the city a few years before returning north with a few dollars to her name.
Somehow, I knew it wasn’t the lack of money that brought her back. The evidence suggested that Carmen was a resourceful woman, the kind who knew how to separate men from their money. No, San Francisco was beautiful, with manicured parks and tourist-friendly forests along the coast, but it wasn’t the mountains. She was here because this was her home.
Only a week after returning, she met Mark Avila in a Sacramento bar frequented by well-heeled political types. She convinced him to marry her within a week and divorced him less than a year later, taking full advantage of California being a community property state. A month later, she found a man more than happy to take on a beautiful divorcee and her infant daughter. He lasted almost three years. The second husband had visitation rights to see Dana, but the first hadn’t been heard from since the divorce.
It might be suspicious, if it bore any resemblance to the current case. Carmen liked gullible older men with money who made her life easier. Kidnapping her daughter and her boyfriend simply made no sense.
Sera and I spent a lot of time on the throw pillows, tossing theories back and forth and trying to find an avenue worth exploring. One we knew how to explore, more to the point. We knew we were in over our heads, though neither of us wanted to admit it. We had no training in this kind of work, no idea where to begin, and no clue how to open those doors that remained steadfastly closed.
I hadn’t seen Mac since the night the agents interrupted us. I didn’t know if he was avoiding me or working the case separately, but it didn’t matter. The message was clear: I wasn’t welcome in parts of his life.
Vivian was rarely home, spending all her time either in the library or with her ex-girlfriend. She continued to scowl and mutter whenever I asked for details, so I assumed it wasn’t going well.
Simon was still with us, though we didn’t know for how long. Reluctantly, we’d passed Carmen’s message on to him, along with a slew of reasons he could ignore her request. He nodded once, confirming he heard us, but said nothing in response. No one wanted to remind him of his talk of leaving, and we walked on eggshells around him, hoping
We knocked on both their front doors at least once a day, but no one opened them. Maybe Mac had told them we were in contact with the agents. Maybe they just didn’t like us.
I wasn’t sure what we’d have done if someone had answered. An abusive boyfriend or crazy mother still seemed the most likely scenarios, and I had no idea how to simultaneously help and investigate the two families.
The agents checked in regularly, and they confirmed what we already suspected. Pamela’s friend knew nothing. She’d merely been an excuse, a distraction while Pamela snuck away with James. She had no more idea where they’d gone than we did.
We had little information to offer them in turn, a fact of which they were grudgingly accepting.
Vivian spent hours on the computer, digging up every bit of information we could find on our key suspects. She learned that James got his driver’s license the moment he turned sixteen, earned Bs and Cs in school despite strong test scores, took regular guitar lessons in Tahoe City, and was a menace on a snowboard. Nothing in his history hinted at violence.
Carmen’s story was more complicated. Vivian’s research indicated a wild past, the kind of life that felt more appropriate to a big cat than the preppy trappings that now surrounded her. In high school, she’d been the sort of student who, if she’d spent half the energy on her studies that she spent attempting to skip class and outsmart the teachers, she’d have been valedictorian. She’d skipped college, preferring to educate herself in the San Francisco nightlife. She only stayed in the city a few years before returning north with a few dollars to her name.
Somehow, I knew it wasn’t the lack of money that brought her back. The evidence suggested that Carmen was a resourceful woman, the kind who knew how to separate men from their money. No, San Francisco was beautiful, with manicured parks and tourist-friendly forests along the coast, but it wasn’t the mountains. She was here because this was her home.
Only a week after returning, she met Mark Avila in a Sacramento bar frequented by well-heeled political types. She convinced him to marry her within a week and divorced him less than a year later, taking full advantage of California being a community property state. A month later, she found a man more than happy to take on a beautiful divorcee and her infant daughter. He lasted almost three years. The second husband had visitation rights to see Dana, but the first hadn’t been heard from since the divorce.
It might be suspicious, if it bore any resemblance to the current case. Carmen liked gullible older men with money who made her life easier. Kidnapping her daughter and her boyfriend simply made no sense.
Sera and I spent a lot of time on the throw pillows, tossing theories back and forth and trying to find an avenue worth exploring. One we knew how to explore, more to the point. We knew we were in over our heads, though neither of us wanted to admit it. We had no training in this kind of work, no idea where to begin, and no clue how to open those doors that remained steadfastly closed.
I hadn’t seen Mac since the night the agents interrupted us. I didn’t know if he was avoiding me or working the case separately, but it didn’t matter. The message was clear: I wasn’t welcome in parts of his life.
Vivian was rarely home, spending all her time either in the library or with her ex-girlfriend. She continued to scowl and mutter whenever I asked for details, so I assumed it wasn’t going well.
Simon was still with us, though we didn’t know for how long. Reluctantly, we’d passed Carmen’s message on to him, along with a slew of reasons he could ignore her request. He nodded once, confirming he heard us, but said nothing in response. No one wanted to remind him of his talk of leaving, and we walked on eggshells around him, hoping
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