Chapter Eleven
Olivia parked in front of Zoe’s studio at seven forty-five the next morning. Wendy’s vehicle and an SFPD patrol vehicle sat side by side in the lot. Damn.
She got out of her car. She’d wanted to arrive first to see if Wendy had noticed the previous night’s break-in and to observe her initial interaction with the police.
The upside to Zoe’s disorganized and messy office was that who would be able to tell?
Her office and house both looked like they’d been ransacked most of the time.
Her eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep, and the makeup she’d applied to conceal her insomnia wasn’t helping with the sticky feeling.
She pushed through the glass door. A buzzer sounded to announce her arrival.
The front entrance of the office was more guest friendly than the rear.
The outer office was still bare bones, though, with a coatrack, three cheap chairs, and a fake ficus tree.
Voices emanated from Wendy’s office. Hasty appeared in the doorway. Her scowl said she wasn’t happy to see Olivia, but she wasn’t surprised either. She held up a hand, stopping Olivia. “Why are you here?”
“I came to talk to Wendy.”
“Well, you’ll have to wait outside until we’re finished.”
Olivia went back onto the sidewalk and paced the concrete.
Despite the morning chill, she didn’t return to her vehicle.
She couldn’t just sit. The window blinds of the office were lowered, so she couldn’t see inside.
Were the cops searching Zoe’s office? Olivia hoped they were.
At least that would signal they were conducting a detailed investigation.
Nearly an hour later, Billings opened the door and gestured for Olivia to come in.
Wendy’s door was closed, and Olivia could hear Hasty’s voice behind it, but she couldn’t make out the words.
Billings led her into the kitchenette and waved Olivia toward a chair.
She sat, and he leaned back against the counter, crossed his arms, and glared down at her.
It took effort not to roll her eyes at his obvious attempt to establish dominance.
Unimpressed, she folded her hands in her lap, stared back, and waited patiently for him to get over himself.
After a few seconds of clearly not establishing dominance, his weight shifted with discomfort. “Why are you here?”
“I came to talk to Wendy,” she repeated.
“She doesn’t know where Zoe is, but she isn’t as worried about her as you are.”
“She doesn’t know Zoe as well as I do,” Olivia said. “Why didn’t you return my call last night?”
“I didn’t get the message until this morning.”
Bullshit. He was on his phone with Wendy last night, which meant he most likely saw Olivia’s message and ignored it.
Olivia said nothing. She let the silence stretch on for a solid minute. If he was waiting for her to blink first, he was wasting his time.
“What is the important information you uncovered?” His tone doubted its importance.
“Zoe has a storage unit.” Olivia described the attempted purse snatching, tracking the storage unit through the last known location of Zoe’s cell, and finding the Jeep and cell phone inside.
She omitted the parts about lying to the clerk and cutting the lock.
“The gate to the storage complex opened a few minutes later, so I assume she left in a vehicle. She could have walked out without triggering the gate.”
Billings agreed with a nod. “She swapped her Jeep for another vehicle. If she paid cash for the unit, then that implies she didn’t want her husband to know about the unit or the spare vehicle.”
Olivia didn’t disagree. She opened her purse and pulled out two clear plastic bags. “Here’s the phone and receipts from Zoe’s Jeep.” She had scanned the receipts and downloaded the contents of the phone to her laptop the previous evening.
Billings’s face flushed like a wicked sunburn. “You took evidence?”
“Evidence of what?” Olivia shot back in a calm but firm tone. “You keep telling me there’s no proof of a crime.”
Unbelievably, his color deepened to impending stroke. He muttered something that sounded like fuck under his breath.
Olivia ignored his anger. She wouldn’t be bullied, and he couldn’t have it both ways.
Either Billings was going to admit something sketchy had happened with Zoe and launch a full-out investigation into her disappearance, or he’d have to deal with Olivia looking for her friend.
“Anyway, you’re going to want to trace the text Zoe received. ”
Billings pulled gloves from his pocket and tugged them on before accepting the bag. “What’s the passcode for the phone?”
Olivia recited it.
Billings typed with his thumbs. “We requested Zoe’s phone records. We would have had this information later today.”
“I’m sure.”
He read the text, and his mouth went flat. “Wait here.” He took the phone into the hallway, closing the kitchen door behind him. A few minutes later, he returned. “The number is linked to a burner phone. We’re working on tracing the point of purchase.”
Olivia assumed Lance’s mother could trace the burner phone faster since she didn’t have to adhere to police procedure. Hackers didn’t need warrants. “Does Zoe have any additional vehicles registered to her?”
“No,” Billings said. “And we put out a Bolo. No one’s seen her.” BOLO stood for Be on the Lookout. “But without a description of the vehicle she’s in . . .” He shrugged.
Was the vehicle Zoe had driven away from her storage unit registered to someone else? Or was it illegal?
“Is there anything else you need to tell me?” he asked, his eyes unreadable. Did he know she’d broken into Zoe’s office last night? She certainly wasn’t going to volunteer that bit of information.
“No. What are you going to do besides trace the text?”
“Ma’am,” Billings said, his tone making ma’am sound distasteful.
“I don’t necessarily like this situation any more than you, but as you pointed out earlier, we’ve uncovered no indication of foul play.
A woman is allowed to leave her husband.
Maybe she had good reasons that she didn’t share with you.
There seems to be a lot that she didn’t tell you.
I’ll follow up on the text and look into the storage unit.
But even this text”—he held up the phone—“isn’t proof a crime occurred.
The attempted mugging could have been exactly that.
The text is weird. I’ll give you that. But here are the facts: Zoe kept a storage unit for over eight years, likely with a vehicle inside.
She planned for her departure. She paid cash for the unit, thereby deliberately keeping its existence a secret from her husband—and you.
She was seen at that unit very early Sunday morning, possibly exchanging her Jeep for a different vehicle.
These facts—and everything else we’ve found—support her leaving on her own. ”
“Why would she do all that?”
“Maybe she’d just had it with her husband.
They’d had an argument earlier. The fight was loud enough that the neighbor heard it through the wall.
He admitted that the argument was a recurring marital issue.
Maybe Zoe didn’t like her life. Maybe she wanted to start over.
I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. She can leave for any reason she likes. ”
“Have you obtained the surveillance footage from this office complex?” Olivia asked.
“Yes. The footage confirms the time of her arrival and departure. Zoe drove away first. Ms. Simon left a couple of minutes later. No one followed either of them.”
“And Zoe must have driven directly to the storage facility,” Olivia said.
“With no evidence that she was forced or coerced to do so,” Billings added.
“What about her credit cards and bank accounts? Has there been any activity?”
“I can’t share any specific financial information with you, but I will say that none of her accounts have seen any activity since Saturday.
Wherever she is, she’s probably paying cash to cover her needs—just like she did with the storage unit.
” His next breath whistled out. “Look, if she wanted her husband—or you—to know where she was going, she would have told you both.”
This point stung. “But why? Why would she run away? Her podcast was taking off. She’d built a life here. It doesn’t make sense.”
“I don’t have to make sense of it. People are weird. They do inexplicable things all the time. If you uncover proof of foul play, call me and I’ll be happy to dig deeper. Otherwise, if these last few leads don’t pan out into something illegal, I’ll be at the end of the line.”
“She’s still missing,” Olivia said.
“She left,” Billings corrected. His eyes softened. “I really wish I could do more, but I have to follow the law. You know my hands are tied.”
“I do,” Olivia admitted. Lincoln had said the same. “I’m just frustrated and worried about my friend.”
“I understand,” Billings said. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I can’t help.”
When he and Hasty left ten minutes later, Wendy did not emerge from her office.
Olivia knocked on the door. “Wendy?”
“You can come in.”
Olivia entered the room.
Wendy sat behind her desk, chewing on a thumbnail. Anxiety gathered in her eyes as she looked up. “I really thought she’d turn up by now.”
“Me too.” Olivia walked in and perched on the edge of the desk.
Wendy’s phone made a chirping sound. The screen showed a message. Olivia read it upside down. 4 pm today. Wendy caught Olivia watching and quickly turned over the device.
Why didn’t she want me to see that?
“Can I help you?” Wendy asked.
“Has Zoe been acting differently lately? Did she seem upset?”