ago, and I thought Elise had left the system. But then she quit her job … I suppose that could be why.”
Except Elise didn’t age out until three weeks ago.
“Thank you, Mr. Anderson,” Garrett said before Lucy could pump him for more information.
Back in the car, Lucy said, “I wasn’t done.”
“You were treading into dangerous territory. This isn’t your investigation. Just because Erica’s ex-husband mentioned her name doesn’t mean anything.”
“Like hell it doesn’t!” Lucy forced herself to calm down. “It’s not enough, but it’s one small thread and we are going to pursue it.”
She was about to drive away when Bill Anderson came running up to her car. She rolled down the window. “Is there something else?”
“I just told the kids I had to run an errand. I’m really worried about Erica—I have the keys to her house. Like I said, we’re on good terms. Would you follow me over there and … well … if she’s there and something’s wrong, I would just feel more comfortable with you there, if that’s okay.”
Lucy nodded. “Absolutely, Mr. Anderson.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, they were back at Erica’s house. Bill walked up to the door and knocked. “Her car’s not here,” he said to Lucy and Garrett, who were standing behind him, “but … well, just in case.” Through the door he called out, “Erica? It’s Bill. You there?”
Silence.
Bill opened the door and walked in. Lucy motioned for Garrett to stay back—he might have been a cop before, but he wasn’t one now, and they didn’t know what to expect.
“Would you mind if I did a quick search?” Lucy asked Bill.
“Please.”
Lucy looked at Garrett to make sure he heard that Bill had authorized her. He didn’t react. He was probably thinking that just because Bill had the key didn’t mean he had a lawful reason to enter, but at this point, Lucy was concerned about Erica’s safety—and possible involvement with Elise Hunt.
Elise had blackmailed, threatened, and manipulated dozens of people into helping her. She could have done the same to Erica.
Lucy walked quickly through the small, meticulously organized house. The kids’ rooms had the most personality and clutter, but the master bedroom and the living area were immaculate. Nothing looked out of place, and she didn’t find a body or sign of a struggle.
She came back to the living room where Bill stood. Garrett came into the room and closed the door.
“Can you tell if anything is missing?” Lucy asked Bill. “Did she have luggage, could she have gone on a trip?”
“Three months ago, I would have said she’d never leave without telling me. But now? Hell if I know.”
He walked down the hall to her bedroom and Lucy walked over to a small desk in the kitchen. Mail was organized in a small wooden box. She opened a desk calendar, which appeared to be sparingly used. Physicals for the kids were scheduled in June. She had her “annual” in August. Last October was a week vacation “Disneyland w/Bill, Paula, George.” She had birthdays listed, and her work schedule until she quit.
There was nothing on her calendar after she quit the first week of February except a birthday of a friend, but the calendar had all birthdays for the year marked in the same red pen.
Bill said, “Her suitcase is in her closet, but she has a matching overnight bag that I can’t find anywhere. I just don’t understand any of this.”
Lucy knew she shouldn’t, but she would argue that a welfare check meant that this was a lawful search. They didn’t know where Erica had gone, why she wasn’t talking to her kids, why she’d quit her job, what she was doing.
She opened the desk drawer. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Garrett frown, but then Bill walked over and started going through Erica’s things.
The drawer was also organized, with pencils in one tray and pens in another. Notepads and extra phone chargers and keys without rings. Suddenly Bill turned and walked briskly down to the bedroom.
Lucy didn’t see anything in the drawer that might help. Then Bill said, “Well, shit.”
She went down the hall. “What?”
He was in her closet. A small gun safe was open. “Her guns are gone. She owns a .357 revolver and a .45 semiauto.”
“Did you open the safe?”
“Yes, it used to be in our house, both of our thumbprints can unlock it.”
“Those were the only two guns she owned?”
“Yes. At least that I know of.”
Mona Hill had been shot with a .45 caliber.
“Did