Her Silent Cry (Detective Josie Quinn Book 6)(51)

He scratched his head. “Come to think of it, I think one of ‘em did. But I had a morning booking here in Denton that day and an afternoon booking in Bellewood, about forty miles from here, so I just went to the one in Bellewood and didn’t give it much thought. Like I said, my wife does all the scheduling. She’ll be happy to talk to you about it. Give you any records you need.”

Gretchen gave Josie a nod, pressed some buttons on her phone, and slipped out the door. Josie knew she was off to call Bausch’s wife for whatever records she had. Josie took out her phone and found the photos Gretchen had just texted her of the man who had gone to Lucy’s school posing as John Bausch. Turning the phone toward John Bausch, she asked, “Do you recognize this man?”

Bausch studied the phone for a moment. Josie scrolled through several of the shots, but Bausch shook his head. “Never saw him,” he said.

“You don’t have any assistants or helpers?” Josie asked. “Any employees?”

“No, just me and my wife. Never had any helpers. Never needed any. Don’t make enough to hire employees.”

“How about a son?” Josie asked. “Someone you plan to pass the business along to when you pass?”

“No,” Bausch answered. “No sons. I have a son-in-law but he’s in the military. Stationed in Texas about now. Been there for about a year, I think. That ain’t him in those pictures anyway. He’s got to keep his hair high and tight to be in the marines. Still, I’m guessing you’ll want his name and all that, too.”

Josie smiled. “Yes, please.”





Thirty-Two





Oaks arrived at police headquarters a half hour later, looking more exhausted than ever. Large bags drooped under his eyes. Creases covered his suit. Josie pulled him into the first-floor conference room and briefed him on the John Bausch situation. Swiping a hand over the gray stubble on his chin, Oaks sighed. “Whoever this guy is, he’s been planning this for a while.”

“I think we should run with this,” Josie said. “Release his photo to the press as a person of interest. We’ve only got him in profile, but it might be worth it. Violet Young saw him up close. We could have her work with a composite artist.”

“I’ll get one over to the school to talk with her. In the meantime, we’ll use what we’ve got. We’ll crop out the kids and put something together,” Oaks agreed.

“That brings me to my next concern,” Josie said.

“Which is what?”

“This guy has Lucy. We know she’s alive—or at least she was earlier today when the kidnapper called from Wendy Kaplan’s phone. Lucy’s photo has been all over this city, on the television, on social media. The volunteers even had fliers made and tacked them up all over the place.”

Oaks nodded as Josie spoke. He leaned a hip against the conference room table and crossed his arms over his chest. “You want to know where he’s keeping her?”

“If he was keeping her at a hotel or motel, someone would have seen her by now.”

“But not everyone would report it,” Oaks pointed out. “Especially in some of the less savory establishments. Do you have some people who can shake down those places and see if they can turn up anything?”

“Yes,” Josie said. “I also think we should have some teams look at hunting cabins in the area. The outskirts of Denton are pretty rural. Lots of cabins in remote areas that are not being used this time of year. If I were trying to stay off the radar and hide a little girl whose face was plastered everywhere, I’d think about finding someone’s shuttered hunting cabin or camping out in the woods somewhere. I can ask the state police and sheriff’s office to help check them out. County-wide.”

“I can have some of my people help with that. We should check any campsites as well,” Oaks said.

The sound of the door creaking open got their attention. Mettner poked his head in. “Boss,” he said.

“Josie,” she corrected, knowing it would do no good.

“We figured out who the tweed jacket guy is—he’s a psychologist in private practice here in Denton.”

“Did anyone interview him?” Josie asked.

“I talked to him. He said he came to offer his services to anyone who might need them, free of charge.”

“Does he have an alibi for the time that Lucy went missing?”

Mettner scratched his temple. “No. Says he was home alone Sunday, reading.”

Josie and Oaks looked at one another.

Mettner said, “You want me to bring him in?”

“Not yet,” Josie said.

“You want eyes on him?”

Oaks said, “We’re already running pretty thin. Tell you what—I’ll have my team do a background check on him. See if they can turn up any red flags. You’ll see if you can find any connection between him and the Ross family.”

“You got it,” Mettner said.

“I’ll ask Amy and Colin about him. What’s his name, Mett?” Josie asked.

“Bryce Graham. I’ll text you guys my notes on him with his address and all that.”

“Thanks, Mett,” Josie said. Once he left, she turned back to Oaks. “Did your team get anywhere with any of the neighbors in Wendy Kaplan’s development?” Josie asked.