Where's Ellen? (Mystery) (MPP A JOE MCFARLAND / GINNY HARRIS MYSTERY Book 1) (2 page)

CHAPTER 3

A
nd a mega house it was. Located in a semi-rural area just inside the Jasper Creek town limits, the street had nice wide sidewalks. There were enough lights to keep the street well lit at night. All of the houses sat far back from the road, with ample distance to the neighbors on either side. The white-painted brick front of the Sanders’ house tastefully contrasted with the dark green shutters on both sides of all the windows. There were several large trees growing amid the weed-free, neatly mowed front lawn, and a well-maintained bed of hydrangeas and roses flowed along the entire front of the house. The black asphalt driveway ran up along the left side of the house and led to what appeared to be a three-car garage attached to the left rear corner of the house.

“Jeez, Ginny, counting both stories, I bet it’s at least 5,000 square feet inside.”

“Yeah, it’s huge.”

Approaching the front door, Joe and Ginny removed their sunglasses and put them in their pockets. Joe pushed the doorbell and they were surprised when the door opened even before the two-note chiming inside had stopped.

“Hello, are you Mr. Sanders? I’m Detective McFarland and this is my partner, Detective Harris. We’re with the Jasper Creek Police Department. May we come in?”

“Uh, um, sure. Yes, I’m Steve Sanders. Thank you for coming. Let’s go sit in the family room.” They entered a large foyer just inside the front door, with a huge crystal chandelier hanging from the two-story high ceiling. Following Steve down the long, wide hallway to the rear of the house and then into a mammoth room with ceilings that must have been 15 feet high, Joe and Ginny sat down in two armchairs directly across from the couch into which Steve had collapsed.

Sitting straight up, Ginny removed a notepad and pen from her shirt pocket and asked, “Mr. Sanders, we understand you called 9-1-1 earlier this morning because your wife is missing. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Please tell us about it — from the beginning,” prompted Ginny. So Steve went through the entire series of events of the morning, starting with his jog and ending with his calling 9-1-1.

“Mr. Sanders, are you sure that your wife didn’t just go to work, or leave to run an errand of some type, without telling you before she left?” asked Ginny.

“Yes, of course I’m sure!” exclaimed Steve, waving his arms. “She definitely would’ve said good-bye to me first. Or left me a note if I was still in the shower. And her car’s still in the garage! And her keys are still here!” Now sitting on the front edge of the couch, Steve continued, “What do you think happened? Can you start a search? Should we contact the FBI? Do you think …?”

“Slow down for a minute, please,” interrupted Joe. “Have you looked throughout the house? Did you check with the neighbors? Have you called her office to see if she’s there by now or if they know where she is?”

“Yes, I checked the house and walked up and down the street.” Pointing to the large TV over the fireplace, Steve continued, “But, as I learned from watching all those detective shows on TV, I thought it best to wait for you to initiate an official search just in case of … um … foul play.”

Ginny glanced over at Joe, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. She took it in and gave him a return look that said, “Got it.”

“Mr. Sanders,” asked Ginny, “Do you have any reason to suspect foul play?”

“No, but I want to be sure. I’m afraid there’s no other explanation. What else do you think it could it be?”

“We don’t know yet. It could be many things. That’s why we’re here — to find out,” responded Ginny.

“Sir,” said Joe, “as you probably also know from the detective shows you watch, we can’t officially open an active case until your wife has been missing for 24 hours.”

“You mean we just sit around doing nothing until tomorrow morning?”

“No, not at all,” answered Joe. “We can unofficially begin doing several things right now. We’d like you to call your wife’s office to see if she’s there or if they know where she is or if they’ve heard from her this morning. After that, call the neighbors and all her friends that you can think of and ask the same questions. And we’d like your permission to check the house and grounds while you’re making those calls.”

“Yes, yes, of course. But what if all these calls and your search come up with nothing?”

Ginny replied, “Let’s take it one step at a time. Even before we officially open the case, we can issue a Be-On-the-Look-Out alert for your wife within our department, to the surrounding police departments and sheriffs’ offices and to the state troopers who patrol the highways. But the FBI won’t even listen to us until your wife’s been missing for 24 hours.”

“I always hear about these BOLO alerts on TV, but I never imagined that one would have to be issued for my wife. Jeez,” said Steve.

“Well let’s hope we won’t need it or, if we do, that it produces something helpful. OK, let’s get started,” prompted Joe.

Getting up and walking across the room to the phone on a glass-topped parsons table, Steve called Ellen’s office while pacing back and forth in front of the table.

“Good morning. Ms. Sanders’ office. This is Adele. How may I help you?”

“Good morning, Adele. This is Steve Sanders.”

“Oh. Good morning. Is everything all right with Mrs. Sanders?”

“Not sure. That’s why I’m calling. I gather she’s not in the office. Do you know where she is? Have you heard from her?”

“No, I haven’t. In fact, I was just getting ready to call your home. I’ve tried her cell phone, but it goes right to voice mail. She’s late for a meeting and, as you know, that never happens with Mrs. Sanders. She’s always so organized and dedicated, and never late.”

“Yes, I know. Well, she seems to have suddenly disappeared from here. That’s why I’m calling you and then friends and neighbors.”

“Oh, my God! I hope nothing’s wrong. This is so unlike her. I’m sure she just stopped somewhere and we’ll be hearing from her any minute now.”

“Yes, I hope so. Please call me immediately if you learn anything.”

“Yes, yes. Of course. And please let me know if you hear something before I do.”

“I will. Thank you, Adele. Good-bye.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Sanders.”

Steve then took the wireless phone and the local phone book back to the couch, sat down again and began calling each of their neighbors and the few friends and relatives he could think of. But the results were no more useful than the call with Adele.

While Steve was busy on the phone, Joe and Ginny split up and started searching the house. Joe took the main floor, focusing on the kitchen and home office to try to find anything that might indicate where Ellen had gone. He rapidly rummaged through most of the kitchen. The only thing of possible interest was a copy of Ellen’s contact information from her cell phone and laptop; overly organized Ellen had printed this out and placed it in one of the kitchen drawers. Joe took a photograph of this list. He then went into the office and carefully went through all of the drawers. He looked for but didn’t find a paper calendar or agenda. Skimming through the papers stacked on the desk, Joe came up empty-handed. Returning to the kitchen, he picked up Ellen’s smartphone and laptop, opened them, and after a moment walked back to Steve in the family room.

“Mr. Sanders, I can’t open your wife’s cell phone or computer. Do you know the passwords your wife uses for these?”

“Not really,” answered Steve. “I used to know them, but a couple of years ago her company started requiring everyone to change all their passwords every three or four months and I lost track.” Steve gave Joe a few old passwords that he remembered. Joe tried them, but the phone and laptop remained locked.

“In fact, her assistant said she called Ellen’s cell phone, but only got her voice mail. It’s probably still set on vibrate only, which is what Ellen sets it to at bedtime every night so that calls don’t wake us up all night long. That’s probably why I never heard it ring. My God, what if Ellen’s been trying to call it to tell me where she is or to ask for help?”

“That’s unlikely, Mr. Sanders. If she couldn’t reach you by calling her cell phone, surely she would have tried your cell phone or your home phone,” replied Joe.

“Whew! Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Meanwhile, Ginny was searching upstairs, checking all the rooms. Nothing seemed out of place and nothing offered any clues. No clues directly regarding Ellen’s disappearance, that is. But Ginny couldn’t help but draw several conclusions from what she saw. Both Ellen and Steve appeared to be very neat, perhaps almost obsessive — every single item was neatly put away, no clothing was lying out, all the night table and bathroom drawers were fully closed. Ellen, based upon the clothing hanging in her massive closet, appeared to dress well with a nice sense of traditional style. Most of her clothes were work-related: dress suits, twin sets, white blouses, black, medium-heel shoes. Even her casual clothing — shorts, bathing suits and so on — was attractive but conservative. Her makeup reflected someone who cared about her looks but was not fixated on her appearance. Steve’s clothing — several black and navy suits, along with a collection of white shirts and striped ties — was what one expected a conservative lawyer to wear. All the clothing was expensive, but not extravagant, indicating a quality level consistent with the house itself and all its furnishings.

Ginny returned downstairs. She and Joe both shook their heads to indicate they’d found nothing useful. They then checked out the basement together, after which they checked the garage and Ellen’s car, paying particular attention to the trunk, the driver’s seat and the glove compartment. After striking out, they toured the property, focusing on the more densely planted beds and the swimming pool. Again, nothing.

Checking back with Steve, they learned that he had finished calling everyone he could think of. No one he spoke with could offer any help, and he had left voice mail messages for the several people who hadn’t answered the phone when he called.

“Can we sit down and talk for a few minutes, Mr. Sanders?” asked Joe.

Leading them back into the family room, Steve replied, “Sure, but call me ‘Steve.’ ”

“OK, Mr. San, er Steve,” said Joe. “Well, we did the simple initial things, but nothing popped up.”

“Does that mean you’re done for now?” asked Steve in a half-disappointed and half-challenging tone of voice.

“No, not at all,” replied Ginny, “even though, as we discussed, we can’t start the official case until tomorrow morning.”

“That’s crazy! What can you do now?”

“First of all,” said Ginny calmly, “we’d like to borrow a recent photo of your wife that we can distribute as part of the BOLO that we’ll be issuing.” Steve nodded, headed for the home office and was soon back with a 5-by-8-inch color photo of Ellen from the waist up.

Ginny took the photo from Steve. “Thanks. We’ll return this as soon as we’re done with it.”

“OK,” replied Steve.

“Please describe your wife,” continued Ginny.

“Uh, OK,” replied Steve. “She’s very pretty. She has dirty blond hair that comes down to about here,” said Steve as he held his hand just below his shoulder. “She’s 5 feet-10 inches tall and slender — not skinny, just slender.”

“What’s her weight?” asked Ginny.

“Uh, I don’t know exactly, but someplace around 150.”

“Anything else?” asked Ginny.

“Ellen and I often joke about everyone thinking she must be my trophy wife. She has the looks for it, and she is 11 years younger than me. But what people don’t realize is that besides her being extremely bright, she earns more than three times what I do.”

“So, how old does that make her?” asked Joe.

“41.”

“What was she wearing when you saw her this morning?” continued Joe.

“What she wears most every day to work. A dark blue or black, I can never tell which, jacket and skirt, with a white blouse and some kind of scarf around her neck.”

“Any unusual jewelry?” asked Joe.

“Just the regular stuff. Her wedding and engagement rings, a couple of plain bracelets and a gold necklace. Nothing unusual.”

“Any tattoos or unusual birthmarks?” asked Joe.

“No.” Then quickly standing up, Steve continued, “Hey, are you asking this stuff to help identify her body? Christ! What aren’t you telling me? Please! I need to know!”

“No. No. Hold on, Steve. Don’t jump to any crazy conclusions,” quickly responded Ginny. “We’re just trying to get a complete description of your wife that we can include with her photo in the BOLO we’ll be issuing when we get back to headquarters.”

Sitting back down, Steve replied, “Sorry. I’m just a wreck right now, and I can’t think very straight.”

“Not a problem. We understand,” said Ginny.

Joe then started a more rigorous series of questioning. “Steve, has your wife ever gone someplace before without telling you in advance? Have you and she been having any relationship problems recently? Did your wife seem at all different lately? Was she worried or stressed more than usual? Any problems at work? Do you know who she was talking to on the phone earlier today when you returned from jogging? Can you think of anyone who wants to hurt her or is upset with her? Or with you? Walk us through again the exact sequence and timing of things this morning.”

Steve answered all these questions with a series of “No’s” and recounted the activities of earlier that day.

“When you left to go jogging this morning, was the door locked?” asked Joe.

“Yes. We lock it and put the alarm on every night when we go to bed.”

“So, the alarm was on and the door was locked when you were leaving to jog?”

“Yes, but I turned the alarm off and unlocked the door as I was leaving.”

“Let me be specific here. After you were out the door, did you stop and reset the alarm or lock the door?”

“No. I never do. It’s very safe out here. When we’re home and awake, the doors are normally unlocked, even if we’re out back in the yard or the pool.”

“OK, thanks,” said Joe. “Now I’ve got a more awkward question, but it needs to be asked.”

“OK, go for it.”

“Any reason to think that your wife may be seeing another man?”