31 #2
“Listen up!” Max raised his hands, turning slowly so he addressed everyone.
“You better believe we responded when someone called in that a child was floating in a lake. And yes, it was a doll. The most lifelike, child-sized doll I’ve ever seen.
We follow up on everything; that is how seriously we take each lead, because what if the lamest-sounding one turns out to be the most important?
As you can imagine, making sure each one is cleared is labor-intensive.
Which is why we’re still working tonight at nearly ten p.m., going through more leads. ”
The crowd had quieted.
“I’m going to update Belle’s father in private—and that doesn’t mean something horrible has happened.” He scowled at the group. “Her family has priority. The rest of you will have to wait until the next press conference.”
“When’s that?” shouted a male reporter from the back.
“Tomorrow at noon.”
Knowing nothing had been scheduled, Noelle raised a brow at Evan, who shrugged. “I’ll figure out something to say.”
The other TV reporter glanced to the side and locked eyes with Noelle. Recognition flashed as the woman immediately made her as law enforcement and started her way.
“Let’s go,” said Evan, spotting the determined look in the reporter’s eye. “She doesn’t want to wait for a press conference.” He started toward the main building entrance, and Noelle followed.
At least the crowd is calmer now.
Max had deftly handled its rising anger and desperation.
Noelle and Evan caught up with Max, who’d just reached the doors with Trey. Belle’s father scowled, appearing unhappy that he’d been removed from the crowd and his supporters.
Why wouldn’t he want to speak to us?
She wondered if he had wanted a bigger show for the public and cameras.
The more media coverage the better. Get Belle’s face out there.
Once inside the building, Evan said, “There’s an available interview room just past the task force’s room.”
There were closer interview rooms, but Noelle knew Evan wanted Trey to have a glimpse of what was happening behind the scenes in the search for his daughter. As they reached the door to the task force’s room, Evan stopped. “Hang on. I need to grab my laptop. Be right back.”
He opened the door and went in, deliberately pushing the door open farther than needed.
Trey froze outside the door. He’d seen the tables, computers, and whiteboards with a dozen people still working inside. “Can I—”
“Sorry, Trey,” said Max. “Law enforcement only.”
Evan came back out, and Trey grabbed another long look inside.
“Let’s go talk,” said Max, continuing to the interview room. “I’ve tried to keep you updated on our progress with emails. Is that not enough?” he asked Trey as they all took seats at a table in the smaller room.
“I appreciate that,” said Trey. “But it just feels like . . .” He shrugged. “Business as usual?”
“The sense of urgency we have about this investigation probably doesn’t come across in email,” said Noelle. “But it’s the absolute truth that the urgency is like fire in this building.”
Evan and Max nodded. “We’re not sleeping much,” Evan told him. “Everyone is working around the clock.”
“What about Sydney?” asked Trey. “Do you have leads on her . . . killer?”
“We identified another one of the bodies just a while ago,” said Max. “Each identification brings a small flood of information for us to scour for leads about Sydney and Belle.”
Noelle’s phone buzzed, and she slid it out of her pocket. Kathy Nunevillier was calling.
Did she remember something about Elise?
“Excuse me, I need to take this.” Noelle stepped out of the room, closing the door. She hadn’t missed how Trey’s plaintive gaze had turned hopeful at her words.
“Ms. Nunevillier, it’s Detective Marshall. What can I do for you?” Noelle strode down the hall, seeking a private corner.
“I’m sorry, Detective, but I think you’ve made a mistake.”
Noelle halted. “Excuse me?”
“You sent the wrong photo. It wasn’t Elise.”
Confusion froze her. “It wasn’t?”
“No. I’d really like the right photo, please. It’s been so long.”
“Give me a second, Ms. Nunevillier. I need to check the file I emailed you.”
What the hell?
Noelle touched the email in her phone’s Sent folder and opened the file.
That’s the photo from Elise’s license.
An ugly thought formed in her mind.
Oh, shit.
“Ms. Nunevillier—”
“Please call me Kathy.”
“Kathy,” Noelle started slowly, trying to sort through her spinning thoughts. “I sent the photo on Elise’s license, but I cropped out her address and stats. The name on the license is Elisabeth Sarah Nunevillier. I’m looking at it right now.” She rattled off the birth date.
The other woman was silent for a long moment. “I don’t understand. Is Elisabeth spelled with an s?”
“Yes.”
Has it been too long for her to recognize her daughter?
“You’re sure it’s not her?” asked Noelle. “People change over—”
“I know my daughter,” said Kathy. “And unless she’s had surgery to place her eyes further apart and shorten her forehead, this is not her.”
Oh, fuck. Sydney’s missing roommate stole this identity.
“Can you send me some old photos of Elise?” asked Noelle. “I’d like to see them.”
“I have them right here. I got them out because I was doubting my own memory when I saw the photo you sent. I can text them to you.”
“Please do.”
The first photo popped up within seconds. A young woman holding a birthday cake.
Definitely not Elise. Our Elise, that is.
Would Kathy mislead me? Protecting Elise for some reason?
Another photo appeared. It was a shot of a page from a yearbook with Elise’s full name directly below it.
Unless Kathy has some decent Photoshop skills, that’s legit.
“Kathy, I agree that the photo I sent is not your daughter.”
“What happened? Who is the person in the photo?”
“My first suspicion is that someone stole Elise’s identity.”
“No.” Kathy sounded stunned. “Why would someone do that?”
“I don’t know the reason. But I’m really sorry that I misled you.”
“Sounds like you’re the one who was misled,” said Kathy, her voice subdued. “But this has made me realize that it’s time to find out where she is and contact her. Her father died without seeing her again. I don’t want that, no matter how badly we fought years ago. Life is too short, you know?”
“I do know,” Noelle agreed, the deaths of her mother and grandfather coming to mind.
“A few years ago, her father nearly hired a private detective to find her. I think I’ll do that.”
“I’d be happy to help when—” Noelle stopped, a morbid thought halting her words. “Kathy, I don’t want you to jump to any conclusions with what I’m about to ask you,” she said slowly. “But is it possible for you to get me dental records for Elise?”
Silence.
I shouldn’t have asked.
“I’m trying to identify a set of skeletal remains found in the national forest here who the forensic anthropologist says is a young woman in her twenties.
” Noelle took a deep breath. “But the chances that your daughter was in Oregon must be slim, right? The only reason I ask is because her name has come up as our investigation moved along, and I’d be remiss not to check.
Especially if you haven’t heard from her in a long time. ”
Another long pause. “You think this dead body could be her.” It wasn’t a question.
“It didn’t cross my mind until thirty seconds ago.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” The call went silent.
Noelle looked at her screen. The woman had hung up.
Did I just upset a mother for no reason?
Noelle had thought that it couldn’t hurt to check.
But clearly the question had hurt Elise’s mother.