Page 27 of Little Child Gone

“Thank you for calling back.” Nikki closed her door and settled into her chair. “Let me just grab some paper and a pen.” She rummaged through the stuff on her desk, snagging her legal pad. She checked to make sure the pen had ink before continuing. “All right. Before I say anything more, have you spoken to Spencer? He’s fine,” Nikki quickly added, realizing how he might have taken her words.

“He called me this afternoon. I’m still in shock.”

Nikki quickly scanned her notes on Patrick: high school salutatorian before enlisting in the army. He spent sixteen years in the army before entering the private sector as a cyber security specialist. As far as Nikki could tell, Patrick hadn’t lived at his Dad’s home for any length of time since leaving high school.

“I know it’s a lot to comprehend. Did you know the Smith family? Do you think it’s possible the remains could be theirs?”

“Well, they must be,” he said. “They disappeared and Dad had Spencer board up that room. He never went near the apartment again. I guess that’s why no one smelled anything, plus Spencer mentioned lime.”

“We confirmed lime had been poured all over the closet floor and lower walls,” Nikki said. “Is that apartment heated?” The furnace was in the basement, according to Matt, but it dawned on Nikki that she’d only noticed heating vents on the house, not the apartment.

“No,” Patrick answered. “We always used the fireplace and an electric heater. I’d actually been discussing putting heat in there for the winter for Ms. Smith’s family because I didn’t want to worry about them having a heater and starting a fire.”

“When did you discuss this?” Nikki asked.

“A couple of weeks before they disappeared,” Patrick said. “That’s part of the reason Dad was so stunned and couldn’t believe they’d just left. I’d told him we’d get the heat installed, but that he needed to make sure Ms. Smith intended to stay.”

Nikki sat up straight. “Spencer didn’t mention that.”

“He probably didn’t know,” Patrick said. “My father didn’t share a lot.”

“But Spencer helped search the property for them,” Nikki said. “Surely Karl would have defended his reason for thinking they didn’t just leave.”

Patrick laughed. “Agent Hunt, you didn’t know my father. He never defended his reasoning because he didn’t have to, at least in his mind. If he wanted you to help with something, the why never mattered. Only the how.”

“Do you remember the last conversation you had with your father about Ms. Smith? Do you remember the names of her children? Her first name?”

“She kept her cards pretty close to her chest. The last time I visited Karl he was in the nursing home.” Emotion thickened his voice. “He hadn’t talked about her in a long time. I know he never accepted that she would have just left. He said she had to have been taken. Maybe even murdered, even though that made no sense.”

“Spencer said she and the kids arrived in the spring and disappeared in August,” Nikki said. “Your father didn’t know her very long, yet he seemed confident she wouldn’t have disappeared.”

“He was lonely,” Patrick said. “He never dated after Mom died. I think Ms. Smith brought some happiness into his life.”

“So, she was his caretaker and housekeeper,” Nikki said. “Let’s say they were close and she might have confided in him. I know it’s a long shot, but do you remember him talking about why he was so sure she didn’t leave? Did he know something about her that he didn’t share with anyone else?”

“No,” he said. “Only that he’d confirmed she’d intended to stay.”

“Your father told you this, but did you hear anything from Ms. Smith directly?” Nikki asked. “Is it possible he lied because he wanted you to put heat in regardless?”

“I suppose so, although I don’t know why he would,” Patrick said. “But he’d convinced Ms. Smith to register her son at school instead of homeschooling.”

“Did she register him?” School records like that would be accessible. That would change the entire investigation.

“No,” he said. “Ms. Smith planned to do it the Monday after the fishing trip. She wanted Dad to go with them. My father’s mind was sound then, and I believe him. My sister didn’t.”

Nikki didn’t miss the way he spit out “sister.” “Stephanie didn’t like Ms. Smith?”

“Oh God, no. Didn’t trust her, saw her as a threat. Stephanie hates other women in general, though, so we mostly ignored her. Dad was happy with Ms. Smith and the kids being there, and that’s what mattered to me. After they disappeared, Stephanie refused to consider anything other than Ms. Smith being a scam artist. She told Dad to his face that he was lying or senile about Ms. Smith telling him she’d stay. He’d been conned.”

“How did that go over?” Nikki asked.

“Dad threw her out,” Patrick said. “As far as I know, he never let her back into the house after that. Dad’s health was good then, but within a couple of years, he’d gone downhill and couldn’t be on his own. He’d stopped being active and gave up.”

“You said the last time you visited him in the nursing home he talked about Ms. Smith, and then we went off on another track,” Nikki said. “What were you going to say?”

“I visited him about a month before he died—spent a little over a week here and saw him every day—and every day he talked about seeing her there, in his room. Then he said Mom had been there, and his parents.” Patrick’s voice sounded strained. “She was visiting him, he said. I asked if that meant she was dead, and he said yes. You know how they say people start seeing their loved ones who’ve passed on before them when they’re close to dying?”

“I do.”

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