Gone(8)

“What? What do you think it is?”

He gripped the steering wheel, staring ahead. He didn’t know. But a sense of dread was growing.





CHAPTER SIX / The Missing

Detective Rondeau called a meeting. His office was located in the Public Safety Complex, in a wing of the county jail. The group of law enforcement crammed into the tight space.

“Okay,” Rondeau said, “we have reason to believe a family is missing. Deputies King and Bruin did the welfare check this morning. Given exigent circumstances, the deputies gained entry through a side door. They found the residence to be in the same condition as I determined last night, from the outside. No bodies, no blood; the family is just gone. New Brighton Medical confirms that Lily Kemp, the wife and mother, has missed her last three shifts.”

Peter King raised a hand and spoke up. “Their daughter goes to preschool with my nephew.”

Rondeau nodded. “We called the preschool. They said the child has been absent for three days as well. And the nearest neighbors are the Leifsons; I spoke with them and they told me it had been a while since they’d seen the family. So, at this stage, we’re saying they have been missing for the past seventy-two hours.”

He nodded to Stokes. Stokes began passing out packets, one to Sheriff Oesch, one to each of the three deputies — Peter King, Althea Bruin, and Holland Kenzie. They were a small department — Patrol Division and Jail Division, plus the newly minted detective squad of which Rondeau and Stokes were sole members, Rondeau the lead. Also present was Britney Silas, representing CSI, the forensics team. Rondeau figured it was enough to get started.

“I filed the missing persons’ report myself earlier today after hearing back from Deputies King and Bruin.” Rondeau took one of the packets Stokes was handing out. The heading read: MISSING PERSONS INVESTIGATIVE BEST PRACTICES PROTOCOL. The group leafed through the pages.

“First thing,” Rondeau said, “we need to locate and contact any extended family members.”

“On it,” Stokes said.

Rondeau turned to the forensic analyst, Britney Silas. “We establish a Family Reference Sample Collection Kit as soon as we have someone from the extended family. Safe, noninvasive means for obtaining DNA references, right?”

Silas nodded.

“Okay,” he said, and set the packet on his desk. “Right now this is not ‘high risk.’ There is no confirmed abduction, no immediate evidence of dangerous circumstances. They’ve only been missing three days, not thirty, no pattern of disappearances established, and we don’t have any reason to believe that there is a medical issue. But just because we don’t know that at the outset, doesn’t mean these factors aren’t, in fact, present. We need to find out everything we can about this family. Let’s find their lawyer, if they have one. The family doctor. Auto mechanic. Let’s look into their bank account and see if there have been any major recent withdrawals — we’re not looking for the value of the account, but certain activity that might stand out, or if it has been closed or transferred.”

He surveyed the group. They were still looking through their packets, but his silence drew their attention. “We are lead law enforcement agency on this,” he said, glancing at Stokes.

“Stokes here is going to contact NCIC and the National Missing Persons Program . . .”

“What about the FBI?” Stokes looked anxious — this was his first big case.

Rondeau held up a hand. “One step at a time. We’ll reach out if we feel the need. Now, NCIC will only take a report if certain criteria are met. Physical or mental disability. So we really need to get that information from a general practitioner. Otherwise, we have to show the family was involuntarily taken, and we do that by the evidence. We also have the resources of the state police and the Safe Return Program. But I think we need to keep this workable, keep it moving.” He lowered his hand and addressed the group. “So let’s start by finding everything we can about the Kemps. It’s gonna be a challenge because we’re dealing with the lives and habits of two adults, not just one. Let’s get in touch with their friends, family, no matter how far flung. Alright?”

Nods and murmured agreement. There was a palpable excitement in the room. Rondeau felt it, but he also felt uneasy.

“Also, let’s get a TRAK bulletin going, right away. I want to see the faces of the Kemps plastered all over the county, the state.” He looked at Deputy King, and King nodded. Rondeau added, “This is where we can bring in Ski and the boys, too.”

King looked dismayed at the prospect of coordinating with Trooper Ski, but Rondeau knew he’d get it done. Rondeau considered Peter King trustworthy, and he didn’t trust most people. He knew the young deputy had aspirations to be an investigator. There might be some resentment there, since Oesch had formed the county’s first detective squad and hired two new guys, but King played it off. He had good instincts; Rondeau was glad to have him aboard.

King’s partner, Althea Bruin, was a stand-up cop, too. Maybe the sharpest tack in the bunch.

“Deputy Bruin, you’re good on the . . . what do you call it?”

She frowned. “The computer?”

“That’s right,” Rondeau said, and winked. “The thing with the keys and the mousepad. Let’s at least reach out to the Missing Persons and Child Exploitation Unit and request the case be listed on the New York State Police Missing Persons website. They may deny the request, but be persistent. And one other thing — Britney, if you could get me going an Entry and Exit Log for the Kemp residence. I want everyone signing in and out. I’ve spoken with the DA and Judge King and we’re good to go.” He clapped his hands together. “People, that house is now a potential crime scene. Let’s get to work.”