“Mr. Darling, this is Catelyn Maxwell and Jaden Sheppard.” We stood as he introduced us and shook Darling’s hand. “Have a seat.”
Darling’s eyes darted nervously between Maxwell and me as he sat. Something about his demeanor felt off.What’s he hiding?
Dad and Darling filled us in on why he needed our help; his nineteen-year-old daughter, Wendy, had been missing for three days.
“At first, I thought she’d gone away for a long weekend. But then I found this when I heard the alarm going off.” He put a cell phone, protected with a colorful flower case on the table. “It’s Wendy’s; she never leaves home without it.”
No one ever does.
He’d already reached out to her friends, but no one had seen her.
“Mr. Darling said we can search the phone,” Dad said.
Maxwell put on gloves before picking up the phone and examining the case.
“Has she taken off like this before?” I asked.
“She doesn’t always tell me when she’s going out, but she usually texts if she’ll be gone overnight.”
Which she couldn’t do if she didn’t have her phone.
“Can you think of anyone who might want to harm her?” The question always sounded stupid to me in movies, but it turns out it was a necessary one. People weren’t always forthcoming with details, even when they were asking for help.
“No, she’s a good kid.” Darling looked genuinely concerned, but there was something about his demeanor that nagged at me.
“Any reason someone might use her to target you?” I asked. We’d seen first hand how easy it was for a bad guy to use a child to get to the parent when Blake, AJ’s fiancée, was kidnapped because of her father’s connections.
Darling broke eye contact and stared at his hands, playing with a non-existent wedding ring. “I can’t think of anything.”
He was hiding something; I just didn’t know what.
Chapter 6
Cate
The phone case was typical for a nineteen-year-old. So was the picture she used as a background on her home screen, a group shot of her with her friends at a party.
I half listened as John and Jaden asked questions while I scanned Wendy’s texts.
“Who’s Mr. R.?” The name was mentioned in a text thread by a friend. And Wendy bragged about gifts, including jewelry, a new cell phone, and fancy dinners.
“I don’t know. I assumed it was a nickname for one of her friends.”
“Does she have a boyfriend?” I asked. Mr. R could mean Mr. Right. But why keep it a secret?Older man? Teacher? Married?
“No, she broke up with the last guy a couple of months ago.” I didn’t put much stock in his answer; teenage girls weren’t always forthcoming with things like whom theywere dating.Especially if they’re using an initial, even with their friends.
“Do you know his name?”
“Bill, I never knew his last name.” He looked embarrassed, and then defended himself. “They didn’t go out long.”
I nodded as I typed Bill’s name into the contact search bar. Bill McCray was the only result.Not Mr. R.
My gut was telling me Mr. R. had given her a second phone. That kind of behavior didn’t bode well if he also insisted she leave her other phone at home when they went out.
“Are any of her things missing?”
Darling fiddled with his ring finger and avoided making eye contact. “I’m not sure. I didn’t really look.”