And There He Kept Her (Ben Packard #1)(28)
He cross-referenced the call logs from all three phones. The Whatup? number didn’t appear in Jenny’s contacts or call history. It showed up once in Jesse’s records as a missed call on Thursday night, the night after they didn’t come home. Someone was careful about what they used that phone for and who they contacted with it. Someone who had both of Jesse’s numbers.
Packard called Kelly at the office. “Do me a favor and open the file for the phone that ends in 9329.”
Kelly clicked her mouse. “Okay, I got it.”
“Pretty obvious pattern here. There’s an incoming call; they wait for voice mail and hang up. See how they all have a call length of 0?”
“I do.”
“Then this number—Jesse Crawford, we’re assuming—calls back. Sometimes within a minute or two, sometimes longer. They talk for a couple of minutes, long enough for someone to say I need a hookup and Jesse to ask what they need. They settle on a price and make a plan to meet.”
“I follow you.”
“What I need you to do is run all those incoming phone numbers through the databases and get me as many names as you can. Call the high school and cross-reference the list with them. I’m sure they maintain contact numbers for parents and students. Hundred bucks says more than half of those numbers belong to high school kids. I want to meet with the kids on that list at the school today. Not Monday. Not over the weekend when they can hide behind their parents. Get me as many names as you can by one o’clock.”
“I better get busy.”
“One more thing. Jesse got a text message from someone on Monday night. Make sure that number is on the list. Make sure that one’s at the top.”
***
Besides the court order for Jesse’s phone records, Packard had also gotten warrants to search both Jenny’s and Jesse’s physical phones. The department’s digital forensics tech had downloaded and scrutinized all the data from Jenny’s phone but hadn’t come up with any new leads. Jesse’s phone needed a fingerprint or a password, which kept them from getting any of its data. Packard had the tech transfer the SIM card into another phone that he could take with him so he could monitor any new calls or messages that came into Jesse’s number.
Packard took out the clone of Jesse’s phone and checked the time. Just before 8:00 a.m. If the Whatup? number was owned by a student, he had minutes to catch them before the first bell.
Packard entered the number and put the phone on speaker.
Ring.
Whoever owned the Whatup? phone had been trying to find Jesse, too, based on the missed calls to both of his phones.
Ring.
Whoever owned the Whatup? phone would recognize Jesse’s main number or have it in their phone as a contact.
Ring.
Someone answered.
Silence.
Packard waited. The person on the other end was waiting, too. No Hello. No Where you been, motherfucker? Just silence.
“Who is this?” Packard asked.
Silence.
“I’m looking for Jesse Crawford. I have his phone. Do you know where I can find him?”
Nothing.
“This is Ben Packard with the sheriff’s department. I just want to know where Jesse went. I saw your text message. You don’t have to tell me your name. Just tell me where Jesse was going.”
The line went dead.
Chapter Ten
Sandy Lake High School was a mile north of town, a T-shaped brick and glass building dating back to the 1980s when taxpayers had approved a plan to build a new school and consolidate the students from several neighboring towns into one district. Where the building made a turn to the right, a short glass breezeway went the opposite direction and connected to a gymnasium with an indoor pool, track, and hockey arena. Behind the school were playing fields and bleachers.
Packard parked the sheriff’s SUV in a spot marked ADMINISTRATION ONLY. He went up a few concrete steps and through a double set of doors. A short distance down the hall, he came to the administrative office behind a wall of windows. There were three open desks and then private offices beyond that. He saw Principal Overby talking to one of the admins, her back to the door. She turned and greeted him with a bulletproof smile as he came through the door.
“Detective Packard. Nice to see you.”
They shook hands. Principal Overby was in her midfifties, with short gray hair blow-dried into a poof and a receding chin that made her look like a peacock. She was wearing a pink sweater and a skirt with a large floral print that would have looked better on a bedspread.
“Is it still snowing out?”
“Nope. Done and melted,” he said.
They went back to her office. The overhead lights were off, and the room was as gray as the overcast sky visible through the windows. When they were both seated and the door closed, her smile disappeared. “Tell me you know where those children are. Tell me something good,” she said.
Packard shook his head. “Between you and me, we’ve got nothing right now. Neither one has been in contact with any friends or family that we’ve been able to verify. That’s why I’m here. I think it’s fairly obvious that Jesse Crawford is the rhyme and reason at the center of this. What can you tell me about him?”
“He’s a smart boy. He could do anything if he would only apply himself, and that’s not a line of nonsense that I say about all the children. I mean it.”