Hangman. Faye Kellerman

Mr. Wald to a cruiser so he can write down some information for me?” He heard Marge call his name, turned around, and walked over to her and the crime scene. “What’s up?”

      “Lee Wang called. A nurse who works at St. Timothy’s—which is about six blocks away—seems to be missing.”

      “Oh Lord. What’s her name?”

      “Adrianna Blanc. According to her DMV license, she’s twenty-eight, blue eyes, brown hair, five six, a hundred and twenty-five pounds.”

      “Married?”

      “Single.”

      “Who reported her missing?”

      “Her mother. She went to her apartment to drop off some things this morning and her daughter wasn’t there. Her bed hadn’t been slept in.”

      “Maybe she slept somewhere else.”

      “Her mother has made some calls. Her boyfriend is away with his two best friends on vacation. Her other best girlfriends can’t get hold of her. Apparently, Adrianna finished up her shift at the hospital this morning, but no one has heard from her since. Her car is still in the parking lot of St. Tim’s.”

      “That’s not good.” Decker rubbed his forehead. “Where’s Mom?”

      “Her name is Kathy Blanc and she’s at the station house,” Marge told him.

      “And Lee’s with her?”

      “Lee made the call. Wanda Bontemps is with her now.”

      “Tell Wanda to keep her there. I’ll come in and talk to her.”

      “That’s already done,” Marge said. “I used a computer in one of the cruisers to bring up her DMV picture to see if we’re in the ballpark.” She handed him a slip of paper. “Kinda fuzzy, but it’s a possibility. We could bring Mom down for identification in person or we could take some of George’s snapshots to her.”

      Decker stared at the DMV photo. A young woman with long hair was grinning full face into the camera. “Do we have any printed postmortem photographs?”

      “Yeah, these are from George’s camera, printed from his laptop.”

      Decker flipped through them and compared them with the DMV photo. If he squinted hard enough, he could see that the women were one and the same. “Close enough. I’m sending you and Oliver to St. Tim’s. I’ll bring the postmortem to Mom. It’s kinder than doing an in-person ID. Have you finished canvassing the area?”

      “We’ve just started…gone through a couple of blocks when Lee called in.”

      “Call in Drew Messing and Willy Brubeck and have them canvass the area for Oliver and you. They can direct a team of uniforms around the neighborhood. The first thing I want you and Oliver to do is to go to St. Tim’s parking lot with a crime team and work her car over. See if that directs us somewhere. What kind of a car is it?”

      “A 2002 burgundy Honda Accord.” She gave him the plate number.

      “While S.I.D. is working on the car, you go into the hospital and see if you can track Adrianna Blanc’s last movements before she disappeared.”

      “Will do.”

      “The contractor is writing down names and numbers of everyone associated with the project. The homeowners have two teenage boys together. If it is Adrianna Blanc, she would seem to be out of the boys’ age range, but we still need to know where they were last night. There’s also an older son by the father’s first marriage.”

      “How old is he?”

      “Don’t know a thing about him. Call up Wynona Pratt. Tell her to go through the list one by one.”

      “Sounds like a plan.” Marge shrugged. “At least the body’s probably not Terry McLaughlin.”

      Decker exhaled. “All that means is I have to deliver bad news to someone else.”

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      POSITIVELY THE WORST part of the job was bringing bad news to loved ones. It simply sucked. Kathy Blanc’s hands were shaking when Decker handed her the first picture and all it took was one look before she bolted from his office. Wanda Bontemps was there to direct her to the ladies’ room. Decker sat at his desk with his face in his hands, wondering just how long he could take this kind of stress. And if that weren’t enough, there was a fourteen-year-old boy with missing parents, living in his home.

      Sometimes it isn’t even worth getting up in the morning.

      Five minutes later, Wanda Bontemps led Kathy Blanc back into Decker’s office and seated her across from his desk. Kathy’s complexion had turned the color of eggshell; her eyes were red with black tears streaming down her cheeks courtesy of mascara. Red lipstick had run into the lines atop her mouth. Her body was enveloped with the shakes and she hugged herself in a weak attempt to stop her seizing. The woman’s coiffed blond hair framed a long, patrician face now smeared with makeup. She wore pearls in her ears and had on black knitted pants and a red knitted top. Black pumps on her feet.

      Wanda Bontemps was at the doorway, her dark eyes looking pretty somber. “How about some water and a wet towel?”

      Decker nodded and then faced Kathy Blanc’s imploring eyes. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Blanc. Is there anyone we can call for you?”

      “My…hus…band.” She opened her purse, but Decker was quicker. He handed her a Kleenex. “Thank you.”

      “Do you have a number, ma’am?”

      “It’s area code 213–827…” Her face crumbled and Decker handed her another tissue. She managed to get out the next four digits. When Wanda returned, he handed her the number and told her to make the call. He gave the water to Kathy along with a damp white towel.

      “Is there anyone else you want me to contact?” Decker asked her.

      “I can’t even think.”

      Decker nodded. “I want to let you know that we’ll do whatever needs to be done to find out what happened. We’ve got a lot of people working on this. Are you up to my asking you a few questions?”

      “I don’t…” The tears started anew, but she nodded for Decker to go ahead.

      “Was Adrianna having problems with anyone?”

      Kathy shook her head no.

      “How about a boyfriend? You told my detective that there was one.”

      “Garth Hammerling.”

      “Any problems with him?”

      “Not that I know.”

      “I don’t mean to sound intrusive, Mrs. Blanc, but did you and Adrianna have the type of relationship where she would talk to you about personal things?”

      Kathy dabbed her smeary eyes with the towel. When she saw that her makeup was coming off, she whispered an “oh dear.” “Adrianna didn’t complain a lot.” She rubbed her face vigorously to get off all the streaked makeup. “But if something was wrong, I think she’d tell me.”

      “What do you think about Garth?”

      She continued wiping her face. “He seemed all right. I don’t think Adrianna was all that serious about him.”

      “Where’d she meet him?”

      “He’s a tech at St. Tim’s.” Kathy looked up. “Why are you asking questions about Garth?” Her eyes filled with moisture again. “Was she…violated?”

      “I don’t know—”

      “I don’t feel well.”