And There He Kept Her (Ben Packard #1)(51)

“Don’t get caught short on this one, Brian. Here’s another angle—the girl’s dad died six months ago. Run it from her mom’s perspective—husband dies and now daughter’s missing. How much more bad luck can this woman stand? I can probably get her to talk to you.”

“The cops make a statement yet? They ask for the public’s help?”

“Not yet.”

The silence on Brian’s end let Ray know he had him even before Brian agreed to have an intern call on it. Brian’s wife was a reporter at the St. Cloud paper. He’d share the story with her, or at least ask her if they’d picked up any chatter on it. From there it would ripple out to other papers and stations in the region. Newsrooms leaked like old plumbing. Once word got out, they’d all want in on the story. No one wanted to get scooped.

Still, it was just a couple of missing teenagers, hence the low turnout. The pimply intern from the St. Cloud station looked like he weighed less than the TV camera on the tripod he was standing next to. The kid had to stand on his tiptoes to look through the viewfinder.

“I’m going to read a short statement,” Packard said to everyone gathered. “Photos of the missing persons and a copy of the statement are available on the Sandy Lake Sheriff’s Department website.

“Two juveniles from the Sandy Lake community have been missing since Wednesday, April thirtieth. Their names are Jennifer Wheeler, age sixteen, and Jesse Crawford, age seventeen. Both are students at Sandy Lake High School. They are boyfriend and girlfriend. Jennifer is a type 1 diabetic and may be seeking treatment or supplies for her diabetes. Also missing is a maroon 1996 Pontiac Grand Am, Minnesota license plates M as in Mike, D as in Delta, three eight nine. Anyone who has seen these kids or their vehicle is asked to call the Sandy Lake Sheriff’s Department or their own local police. That’s all the information we have to share at this time. Any questions?”

Ray raised his hand. So did the pimply kid in the back. Packard called on the kid. “Sheriff, can you—”

“Stan Shaw is the sheriff. I’m Detective Ben Packard.”

“Sorry. Uh…can you tell us anything about the families involved? Any trouble or uh…tragedy they might have experienced? Uh…recently.”

Packard gave the kid a look like he’d just found dog shit on the bottom of his boot. Even Ray had to shake his head at the question. Brian must have told the kid what Ray had told him about the dead husband. The kid was as subtle as a snowplow.

Packard was not amused. “The Sandy Lake Sheriff’s Department and the families involved are looking for the public’s help finding Jenny and Jesse,” he said. “The families will be incredibly grateful for any help the public can provide.”

Ray raised his hand again. Packard called on another reporter.

“Any history of violence or trouble between the boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“No. None at all. Any other questions?”

Another reporter: “I have a source at the hospital who says the sheriff’s grandson was killed in an accident today. Can you tell us anything about that?”

Ray wheeled around in his seat to see who had asked the question, then turned back to Packard, shocked by the question.

“No, I cannot.”

“Packard—” Ray said.

The reporter in back talked over him. “Can you confirm if the sheriff’s grandson was in an accident?”

“No, I cannot.”

Ray raised his hand again and said, “Does Jesse Crawford have a record? I heard he was escorted—”

Packard scooped up his papers from the lectern and said, “That’s all I have. Thanks for your time.”

The editors putting the video together for the six o’clock news would have to edit out the part where Ray Hanson stood up and yelled, “Goddamn it, Packard! You sonofabitch!”





Chapter Seventeen


Packard was stuck at the station following the press conference. He hung around and talked to a couple of the print reporters off the record in the hall. Not Ray Hanson. Ray stomped out of there like he was looking for a house to burn down. One day Packard would push Ray too far, but until then, fuck Ray Hanson.

After saying “No comment” again and again in regards to all their questions about Sam Gherlick, he escorted everyone out through the reception area. Kelly was still at her desk.

“Thanks for coming in today.”

“You owe me comp time.”

“Deal. Can you do me one more favor? I need to talk to Ann Crawford. I’ll take it back in my office.”

He stopped in the restroom. When he came out, Kelly hollered back at him. “Ann Crawford is on line two.”

In his office, he picked up the phone receiver and hit the flashing light as he went around the end of his desk and sat. “Ann, it’s Ben Packard from the sheriff’s department. I wanted you to know we had a news conference about Jesse and Jenny this afternoon. There should be something on the news tonight at six and in the papers tomorrow.”

“What was the news? You find ’em?” Ann asked. He could hear a TV in the background and the sound of her shaking a nearly empty can, then noisily swallowing the last of its contents.

“No, we haven’t found them. We would tell you before we told the press if we did.”