Find Her Alive (Detective Josie Quinn #8) - Lisa Regan Page 0,21

Denton PD, Gretchen had been a homicide detective in Philadelphia for fifteen years. She was one of the finest investigators Josie had ever known and had become a good friend over the years.

Gretchen placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of Josie. “Fraley said to give this to you. He went to get his warrant signed.”

“Thanks,” Josie said. “Did you see the photos?”

“Not yet. I just heard it was pretty bad.”

“Creepy as hell,” Josie corrected, taking a long swig of her coffee.

Her desk phone jangled. She snatched it up, barking “Quinn” into the receiver.

“Boss,” said Hummel. “We’re finished.”

“What’ve you got?” Josie asked, ignoring the look Mettner shot her.

There was a moment of hesitation. Then Hummel said, “It’s easier if you come out here to the impound lot and take a look for yourself.”

Twelve

Josie followed Gretchen outside to the municipal parking lot at the back of the police headquarters. The moment the spring air hit their faces, they were crowded by a half dozen reporters, holding out cell phones and recording devices and shouting questions. It had been less than an hour since Mettner contacted Trinity’s network and spoke with her assistant. News traveled lightning fast in the media world.

“Is it true that Trinity Payne was abducted?”

“Who was the last person to speak to Ms. Payne?”

“Is there any chance that Ms. Payne’s disappearance is a ploy for her to get her anchor position back?”

The words were a splash of ice water down Josie’s back. She turned and scanned the reporters until she found the man who had shouted the question. He held out his phone, waiting anxiously for her response. She saw from his press badge that he was from one of Trinity’s network’s competitors. Josie met his eyes. She opened her mouth to respond but felt Gretchen’s hand clamp around her upper arm, wrenching her toward the car.

“No comment,” Gretchen shouted as she hustled Josie away.

The reporters crowded the car the moment they got into it, but Gretchen fired up the engine and expertly maneuvered around them and out of the parking lot. In the passenger’s seat, Josie seethed.

Gretchen said, “Ignore it. They have no details right now so they’re trying to make a story out of nothing. It’s just spin.”

“Spin that’s hugely insulting to my sister,” Josie muttered, staring out the window.

“You have to let it go, boss. When we get to the impound, I’ll text Mett and let him know he’s got to get a handle on them. This story is only going to spread. By the time we get back, there will be twice as many reporters out there.”

Josie nodded but remained silent for the remainder of the ride. The impound lot was in a sparsely populated area of North Denton along a thin ribbon of road that was bordered by forest and an occasional house. It was gated and guarded by an officer sitting inside a small booth at the entrance. Gretchen flashed her credentials and the gate lurched open. She weaved through two rows of cars until she came to the far back right of the lot where a plain, cinderblock building stood. On the right was a single dark blue door, solid and unwelcoming. To the left were two garage doors, also blue, their windows white laminate so that no one could see through. Hummel’s ERT vehicle sat just outside, and Gretchen pulled in beside it.

The blue door was unlocked. Josie followed Gretchen inside to a small office where Chan sat at a desk, a laptop in front of her, furiously typing. She glanced up and gave the detectives a nod before returning to her work. “Hummel’s inside,” she said.

They moved through the next door which led to a utilitarian room outfitted with aluminum shelving that housed any and all supplies they might need for processing a vehicle as well as a large stainless-steel table which held Trinity’s suitcase and purse. On the wall across from the table was a large window where they could see into the first garage bay. Josie could see Trinity’s Fiat Spider, its doors open. Hummel stood nearby, still in his Tyvek suit, booties, and gloves. Only his skull cap was missing, his red hair sticking out in every direction. He held a clipboard and pen, taking down notes. Gretchen rapped lightly on the window and he turned, waving them in through the door which was only a few feet away from the window.

Josie felt her stomach go into freefall when they entered the chamber. This was real.