Page 99 of Three Girls Gone
“Just for the six months. Short-term wasn’t what I preferred, but it was my best offer, so I accepted. He didn’t seem to care it was furnished either, which is a no-go for some folks.”
She flipped the pages to the front where Wilcox had listed his address in New York City. He’d left his phone number blank. Amanda got up and handed him her card. “If Wilcox shows up or calls, you call me immediately.”
Travis nodded. “I will. What is he wanted for anyhow? The article just said he was a person of interest to the police.”
“Trust me. You’re better off not knowing.”
Travis paled. “I better contact a lawyer to get that guy out of the house. I don’t want to get caught up in this any more than I already am.”
“And you don’t need to.” As of now, Wilcox wasn’t his problem, he was hers.
FORTY-ONE
Amanda looked over at Trent from the passenger seat. “Trent, do you have those numbers Wilcox used with Mara? The one he used to pretend he was Jean Tanner and the one he gave her when he asked her out?”
“Yeah, it’s on there.” He handed her his tablet and told her where to find the information and got them on the road to the rental property.
She opened the file he’d directed her to. “All right. I thought they looked familiar. The numbers he provided for two of his references were those.”
“This guy put in a lot of time planning, including lining up prepaid numbers.”
“It’s sickening.” She couldn’t give it much more thought than that. Instead, she’d focus on how this evidence solidified a case against him. No defense attorney could argue against premeditation.
“He only provided two references?”
“No, there is a third. Let me try that number.” She took out her phone and tapped in the digits. The line went directly to voicemail. “Well, it’s in service,” she said, while listening to theautomated greeting. She didn’t leave a message and hung up. “No personalization to the voicemail greeting. Could this be Wilcox’s active number?”
“We can’t take the chance it isn’t.”
She got on the phone with Detective Briggs and explained the situation. He told her he’d get the authorization and track the number ASAP. She ended the call and updated Trent.
He turned down the street for the rental property and parked at the edge of the police cordon. Officer Traci Cochran was posted there. As they passed her, she gave them a nod.
The SWAT command vehicle was parked on the street near Malone’s SUV. He was standing next to it. When he spotted them, he hustled over.
“SWAT’s got this part,” he rushed out.
“I understand that.” His interception brought back a conversation they had more recently about her needing to hold off and wait for backup. In her defense, she only moved in earlier when she felt life was in danger.
“Have they breached yet?” Trent asked Malone.
“They’re getting ready to.” As Malone said this, SWAT officers in tactical gear approached the two-story house on the north side of the street.
The middle-class neighborhood was attractive to families with young children. The thought fired through and sickened her. The location might even be what led Wilcox to choose the house. They knew Wilcox planned ahead with the rental and the phones, so to think he’d scoped out the area wasn’t a stretch.
A SWAT officer called out in the distance, announcing himself as PWCPD, just before the cracking of wood echoed in the air.
They would be inside. Now it was a waiting game. Would they find Eloise?
“Did any of the neighbors comment on seeing anyyoung girls going into the house or being around Wilcox?” she asked Malone.
“No, but the place has a garage. He could have had them in the backseat or the trunk, taken them in, put down the door…”
“With no one any the wiser,” she finished his thought. It was terrifying what people could do when they set their minds to it.
“Do we know if the gray Kia is in the garage?” Trent asked.
“No way of checking that discreetly. The windows are slim rectangles and high in the door.”
