CHAPTER FOUR

Monday

Early Evening

Keri braced herself as, ten minutes later, she drove past Denton Rivers’ home. She slowed her car, examining it, and then parked a block away, Ray behind her. She felt that tingling in her stomach she got when something bad was about to happen.

What if Ashley is in that house? What if he’s done something to her?

Denton’s street was littered with a series of cookie-cutter one-story houses, all way too close together. There were no trees on the street and the grass on most of the tiny front lawns had long since turned brown. Denton and Ashley clearly did not share similar lifestyles. This part of town, south of Venice Boulevard and a few miles inland, did not have any million-dollar homes.

She and Ray walked quickly together down the block, and she checked her watch: just after six. The sun was beginning its long, slow descent over the ocean to the west, but it wouldn’t be truly dark for another couple of hours.

When they reached Denton’s house, they heard loud music coming from inside. Keri didn’t recognize it.

She and Ray approached in silence, now hearing shouting – angry and serious, a male’s voice. Ray unholstered his weapon and motioned for her to go around back, then signaled the number “1,” as in they would enter the house in exactly one minute. She looked down at her watch to confirm the time, nodded, took out her own gun, and scurried along the edge of the house toward the back, making sure to duck when she passed open windows.

Ray was the senior detective and he was usually the more cautious between them when it came to entering private property. But he clearly thought these were exigent circumstances that didn’t require a warrant. They had a missing girl, a potential suspect inside, and angry shouting. It was defensible.

Keri checked the side gate. It was unlocked. She opened it as little as possible to avoid squeaking and squeezed through. It was unlikely anyone inside could hear her but she didn’t want to take any chances.

Once in the backyard, she hugged the rear wall of the house, keeping her eyes open for movement. A ratty, decrepit shed near the property’s back fence made her uneasy. The rusty corrugated door looked like it was about to fall off.

She crawled up on the back patio and held there for a moment, listening for Ashley’s voice. She didn’t hear it.

The rear of the house had an unlocked wooden screen door, which led to a 1970s-style kitchen with a yellow fridge. Keri could see someone down the hall in the living room, shouting along with the music and flailing his body as if he were head-banging in some kind of invisible mosh pit.

There was still no sign of Ashley.

Keri looked down at her watch – any second now.

Right on time, she heard a loud knock on the front door. She opened the rear screen door in tandem with the sound, masking the slight click of the door latch. She waited – a second loud knock let her close the rear door concurrently. She moved swiftly through the kitchen and down the hall, glancing in every open doorway as she went.

Back at the front door, which was open except for the screen, Ray knocked hard, then even harder. Suddenly Denton Rivers stopped dancing and moved to the door. Keri, hiding at the edge of the living room, could see his face in the mirror beside the door.

He looked visibly confused. He was a good-looking kid – short-cropped brown hair, deep blue eyes, a wiry, sinewy frame that suggested he was more likely a wrestler than a football player. Under normal circumstances he was probably a catch, but right now those good looks were masked by an ugly grimace, bloodshot eyes, and a gash on his temple.

When he opened the door, Ray flashed his badge.

“Ray Sands, Los Angeles Police Department Missing Persons Unit,” he said in a low, firm voice. “I’d like to come in and ask you a few questions about Ashley Penn.”

Panic spread across the kid’s face. Keri had seen that look before – he was about to run.

“You’re not in trouble,” Ray said, sensing the same thing. “I just want to talk.”

Keri noticed something black in the kid’s right hand, but because his body partially blocked her view, she couldn’t tell what it was. She raised her weapon, training it on Denton’s back. Slowly, she unlocked the safety.

Ray saw her do it out of the corner of his eye and glanced down at Denton’s hand. He had a better view of the item the kid was holding and hadn’t raised his own gun yet.

“Is that the remote for the music, Denton?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Can you please drop it on the ground in front of you?”

The kid hesitated and then said, “Okay.” He dropped the device. It was indeed a remote.

Ray holstered his weapon and Keri did the same. As Ray opened the door, Denton Rivers turned around and was startled to find Keri standing in front of him.

“Who’re you?” he demanded.

“Detective Keri Locke. I work with him,” she said, nodding at Ray. “Nice place you got here, Denton.”

Inside, the house was trashed. Lamps were smashed against walls. Furniture was pushed over. A bottle of whiskey sat on an end table, half empty, next to the source of the music – a Bluetooth speaker. Keri turned the music off. With the room suddenly quiet, she took in the scene more meticulously.

There was blood on the carpet. Keri made a mental note but said nothing.

Denton had deep scratches on his right forearm that could have come from fingernails. The gash on the side of his temple was no longer bleeding but had been at some point recently. The torn shreds of a picture of him and Ashley lay scattered on the floor.

“Where are your parents?”

“My mom’s at work.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’s busy being dead.”

Keri, unimpressed, said, “Welcome to the club. We’re looking for Ashley Penn.”

“Screw her.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“No, and I don’t give a rat’s ass. Me and her are done.”

“Is she here?”

“Do you see her?”

“Is her phone here?” Keri pressed.

“No.”

“Is that her phone in your back pocket?”

The kid hesitated and then said, “No. I think you should leave now.”

Ray got uncomfortably close to the kid, held out his hand, and said, “Let me see that phone.”

The kid swallowed hard, then fished it out of his pocket and handed it over. The cover was pink and looked expensive.

Ray asked, “This is Ashley’s?”

The kid stood silent, defiant.

“I can dial her number and we can see if it rings,” he said. “Or you can give me a straight answer.”

“Yeah, it’s hers. So what?”

“Sit your ass on that couch and don’t move,” Ray said. Then to Keri, “Do your thing.”

Keri searched the house. There were three small bedrooms, a tiny bathroom, and a linen closet, all innocuous looking. There were no signs of struggle or captivity. She found the pull line for the attic in the hallway and tugged. Down came a set of creaky, wooden suspension steps leading upstairs. She carefully climbed up. When she got to the top, she took out her flashlight and pointed it around. It was more of a bonus crawl space than a real attic. The ceiling was only about four feet high and cross beams made it difficult to move around, even while crouching.

There wasn’t much up there. Just a decade’s worth of spider webs, a bunch of dust-covered boxes, and a bulky-looking wooden trunk at the far end.

Why did someone put the heaviest, creepiest item at the far end of the attic? It had to be hard to get it all the way to that corner.

Keri sighed. Of course someone would put it there just to make her life difficult.

“Everything okay up there?” Ray called out from the living room.

“Yup. Just checking out the attic.”

She climbed up the last stair and squatted her way across the attic, making sure to step on the narrow wooden beams. She worried that a wrong step would send her crashing through the drywall ceiling. Sweaty and covered in dusty spider webs, she finally reached the trunk. When she opened it and shined the flashlight inside, she was relieved to discover there was no body. Empty.

Keri closed the trunk and made her way back to the stairs.

Back in the living room, Denton hadn’t moved from the couch. Ray was sitting directly front of him, straddling a kitchen chair. When she walked in, he looked up and asked, “Anything?”

She shook her head. “Do we know where Ashley is yet, Detective Sands?”

“Not yet, but we’re working on it. Right, Mr. Rivers?”

Denton pretended not to hear the question.

“Can I see Ashley’s phone?” Keri asked.

Ray handed it to her unenthusiastically. “It’s locked. We’ll have to get tech to work their magic.”

Keri looked at Rivers and said, “What’s her password, Denton?”

The kid scoffed at her. “I don’t know.”

Keri’s dour expression let him know she wasn’t buying it. “I’m going to repeat the question again, very politely. What’s her password?”

The kid hesitated, deciding, and then said, “Honey.”

To Ray, Keri said, “There’s a shed out back. I’m going to go check it out.”

Rivers’ eyes darted quickly in that direction but he said nothing.

Out back, Keri used a rusty shovel to pry a padlock off the shed. A strip of sunlight pierced the interior through a hole in the roof. Ashley wasn’t in there, just paint cans, old tools, and other random junk. She was just about to step back outside when she noticed a stack of California license plates on a wooden shelf. On closer examination, there were six pairs, all with stickers for the current year.

What are these doing here? We’ll have to have them bagged.

She turned around and started to leave when a sudden breeze slammed the rusty door closed, blocking out most of the light in the shed. Thrust into semi-darkness, Keri felt claustrophobic.

She took a huge gulp of air, then another. She tried to regulate her breathing when the door creaked open, letting some sunlight back in.

This must have been what it was like for Evie. Alone, thrust into darkness, confused. Is this what my little girl had to face? Was this her living nightmare?

Keri choked back a sob. She’d pictured Evie locked away in a place like this a hundred times. Next week it would be five years exactly since she disappeared. That was going to be a tough day to get through.