The Second Girl(35)

So for the sake of courtesy and cooperation, I tell him, “Understood, buddy. No worries there.”

“And if you get any information I can use, you’ll call me, right?”

“Of course.”

The next call I make is to Amanda’s father, Arthur Meyer. It’s his cell phone. I light up a cigarette before making that call.

I’m thinking it’s going to go straight to voicemail, but he answers after the fourth ring. “Hello.”

“Mr. Meyer?” I ask.

“Yes,” he answers.

“My name is Frank Marr. I’m a retired DC police detective.”

“I know who you are,” he says kindly. “I wanted to meet you and thank you personally, but Ms. Costello said she’d thank you for me. How are you, Detective?”

“She did, and thank you, I’m fine. I appreciate that, but I’m calling for another reason. Unfortunately, I’m looking into another case similar to your daughter’s. I was hired by a family whose daughter is still missing.”

“Yes, I know the family. They were recently in touch with us. I gave them Ms. Costello’s number and the number of the detective in DC in charge of our case. I hope you don’t mind, but I also gave them your name.”

“I know. I spoke to the husband and wife the other day. Because the two cases are so similar, I really have to interview your daughter.”

It takes him a moment, and then he says, “She’s been through…a lot. I don’t know. Can’t you just get the information you need from Detective Davidson? Or the FBI?”

“I’ve already spoken with Detective Davidson several times. I knew him when I was on the department, so he’s been very helpful. What I really need to do is show Amanda a photograph of the missing girl. That’s all. See if she knows her. Maybe ask one or two other questions. It’s something I have to do in person.”

“I certainly don’t want to stand in the way of you possibly finding this other poor girl. It’s just that—”

“I can appreciate your concern for your child, Mr. Meyer. I can’t imagine what she went through. The last thing I’d want to do is make it more difficult for her, but I should tell you, in the short time I spent with her, I found her to be a very strong young girl.”

“She is very…” he begins with difficulty. “Yes, she is.” It takes another brief moment. “I can come home early from work tomorrow, say, around four? I’d like to be there, too.”

“That’ll be fine. Thank you, Mr. Meyer.”

“No, thank you, sir. We can’t thank you enough.”

Damn, if I don’t feel taken aback by that. Didn’t think I could get so affected.

Shit.

I snuff out the remains of my cigarette and light another one.





Twenty-nine



I was able to get in touch with all three of Miriam’s girlfriends. The parents were okay with my meeting with them. Well, except for one.

I’ll meet the first girl, Carrie Deighton, shortly after she gets home from school. She doesn’t live far from the Gregorys’ house, so I told her mother that I’d come over when I’m finished there. The second girlfriend on the list is Tamara Moore. Her parents agreed only to a phone interview, and I set it up for Wednesday at three thirty, when she gets home from school. And then there is Justine Durrell, also on Wednesday, but at four thirty.

We’ll see. I’m not expecting much, but there are times when some of these younger kids will more willingly offer up information to someone like me over their parents. But that experience of mine is based on my work with kids in DC who are little thugs, soon-to-be thugs, or wannabe thugs. There’s a big difference between them and these teenage girls. At least I’m thinking there is.

Strong wind gusts outside. What leaves are left on the few trees in my neighborhood are shaken free.

It’s still a few hours before rush hour, so I decide to take I-95 to the Lorton Road exit. It’s just a few minutes out of the way, but I know that area.

Lorton Prison used to be there. The department had a facility behind the prison where we’d go through civil defense and firearms training. There used to be cows roaming around behind the barbed wire that stretched along a dirt road leading to the facility. Back then it was farmland that surrounded the prison.

It’s been some years since that time. Now there’s a retirement community, and a high school on one side, and some sort of community arts center and a golf course on the other. The redbrick watchtowers and most of the housing units surrounded by tall brick walls still remain on a portion of land that the county hasn’t decided on what to do with yet. Maybe a future mall? I certainly wouldn’t shop there. Too much torment in that land.

Miriam Gregory’s home is located in a quiet community off Lee Chapel Road, in Burke, Virginia. It’s almost an hour outside of DC, but then I did take a longer route, so it could be less than an hour. A lot of pockets of small communities in this area, and it looks like a lot of land yet to be developed. That’d be a shame. I’d like to think nice wooded areas have a purpose, and I don’t mean for hiding bodies.

I can’t imagine how Amanda got herself involved with those Salvadoran boys in DC, but then this dude Edgar would be the one to talk to about that. Suburban life. It’s never been something I’ve desired. But maybe if I grew up in an environment like this, my life wouldn’t have turned out the way it did. Then again, probably would have. I might have gotten so bored I’d have turned to drugs sooner, maybe even have gotten myself locked up. You didn’t want to f*ck with Fairfax County back then. They’d slam you for a joint. Not the case nowadays. It’s not even a slap on the wrist. Not even that.