Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
Amanda and Trent talked about notifying Landon, but it didn’t seem right to go to him with this news.
Not when he was a long-term patient and quite ill.
And it might be best for his health if they left him out of the loop until they had more answers.
Also, since he had been a patient of the hospital for months, it was unlikely he’d know what made the rest of his family a target.
But if their strongest suspect, Phillip Daily, didn’t pan out, they might have no choice but to speak with Landon.
Trent pulled up the background on Paul Archer on the onboard computer of the department car. “His parents are still alive, residing in Bethesda, Maryland. A forty-five-minute drive from here.”
“Let’s go then. We can find out more about the boy’s condition too.
” They could request that an officer from the local police service deliver the news, but with such a short drive, Amanda felt the responsibility to handle this.
After all, she and Trent had been there with their son’s body, and they were the ones committed to finding the daughter-in-law and granddaughter. “Get us on the road.”
“Ah, Amanda, there’s someone else on the file you need to know.” Trent glanced over at her. “Paul had a sister. Abigail McGee.” He stressed the surname, letting it land with the impact of a gavel at the hand of a decisive judge.
“McGee? Any relation to Detective Lloyd McGee from Missing Persons?”
Trent pressed his lips and nodded. “Abigail is his wife.”
“More accurately his missing wife, right? McGee told us she disappeared eight years ago. That was the driving force behind him joining the Missing Persons Unit.”
“Yeah. So where to first? Talk to the parents or McGee? Or do you want to question Daily? He’s probably back at Central by now.”
In her mind, she could cross off McGee. They hadn’t found his wife, and time wasn’t in abundant supply.
Talking to Daily could get them to Valerie and Brooke if he was behind this.
They could delegate the notification. It was a tough call.
She could only go from what her heart would want in this situation.
And that was to know the truth. They could also learn something from speaking with the parents they could use in interviewing Daily.
“We’ll let the parents know. I’ll update Malone on our plans. ”
As Trent got them on the road, they passed a truck from Wildlife Resources. Was it too much to hope they could offer some answers?
Bruce and Deborah Archer lived in a newly constructed home set on a mature property.
Trees towered over the roofline on both the east and west sides of the home.
It was a beige vinyl-sided house with a few small windows facing the road.
Despite that and a double-car garage eating up most of the frontage, it was an attractive structure.
Not that Amanda was surprised. Most people who lived in Bethesda had money and worked in high-skill sectors.
With Washington being only a thirty-minute drive away, many commuted there for work.
Given the Archers’ ages, it was likely both had retired though, but it made Amanda curious what their careers had been.
Amanda followed flagstone steps to a wide front door with a grilled windowpane that offered no privacy to the residents. The sidelights put the interior on display even more. She rang the doorbell while Trent stood next to her.
A man came toward them, turned the deadbolt, and opened the door.
Air-conditioned air spilled out onto the step.
He looked them over with piercing gray eyes that saw right through them.
Amanda sized him up as someone used to having the authority in any room.
He just had an aura about him that demanded attention and respect.
His black hair was threaded with silver, and he was dressed in pressed shorts and a collared shirt.
“Bruce Archer?” Amanda said while raising her badge.
“I am, but…” He lifted his eyeglasses from his nose to the top of his head. “That badge isn’t local. Prince William County PD?” As he said this, he pulled back and met her eyes. “Have you found our daughter?”
His question drew a woman toward the door, who stepped up to his side. She was petite and dressed in lightweight slacks and a short-sleeved blouse.
Amanda expected that might be their first question and was prepared. “I’m sorry, we have not. We need to speak with you about your son, Paul.”
“What happened?” The woman gripped the neckline of her blouse.
Before Amanda or Trent could respond, Bruce took his wife’s hand and backed up. “Come inside.”
They entered the home. The open concept afforded a view of most of the main level from the doorway—the kitchen, dining room, and living room. Dark floors with matching beams accentuated the high ceiling. Luxury touches also extended to wide baseboards.
Bruce gestured toward a seating arrangement set up around a fireplace. He sat on the couch, and his wife dropped next to his side. Amanda and Trent each sat on a wingback chair.
“I’m Detective Amanda Steele, and this is Detective Trent Stenson.” She felt it was only right they knew their first names, given the news they were about to deliver. “We know that you’re Bruce Archer,” she said to the man, then turned to the woman. “That makes you his wife, Deborah?”
Both Archers nodded.
“What is this about Paul?” Bruce was holding his wife’s hand as they sat there.
Witnessing their stiffened posture, prepared to weather a storm together, caused an ache in Amanda’s chest. There is no more putting it off… “We’re sorry, but we need to tell you that—”
“No.” Deborah wailed out and sank into her husband’s side. He wrapped his arm around her. He wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes, and his had filled with tears.
“Paul was found dead this morning in Haymarket.” Amanda pushed ahead—for them, for herself. This was their hell, not hers, which she respected. Her emotions would drive her forward for justice, but they had no place competing with their loss.
Deborah rocked back and forth. Bruce stared into space.
“We are very sorry for your loss,” Amanda added, respecting the couple’s space to assimilate what she had just told them. There was only more devastating news to come.
Bruce licked his lips and rubbed his jaw. “What happened to him?”
“An autopsy is going to be conducted to determine the exact cause of death, but he suffered multiple stab wounds.”
Deborah gasped out again.
“There is more though…” Amanda eased her way to part two.
“More?” Deborah asked between sobs.
Amanda took a steadying breath, determined to be strong for the Archers. “It’s early yet in the investigation, but we believe your son was taken along with his wife and daughter.”
“What? No, you can’t be serious.” Deborah blinked, and fat tears dangled from her lashes like crystal beads. “Valerie and Brooke… Are they…?”
Amanda shook her head. “We have no reason to believe they are dead, but we have seen video that shows them getting into the back of a black Ford Transit this past Saturday. We believe the same people who took them are responsible for your son’s death.”
Bruce swallowed, his Adam’s apple heaving. “Then, maybe… maybe they’re…”
“Our granddaughter.” Deborah wiped fresh tears from her cheeks.
Had the woman intentionally left out mention of Valerie?
Was there a rift between them and their daughter-in-law?
Did they know about her sleeping around?
Or was it nothing more than her mind going to the youngest and most vulnerable family member?
“There’s no reason we need to go there at this point. ”
Deborah quivered. “But you can’t know for sure.”
“Do you have any leads on who might have taken them? Or why?” Bruce asked, saving Amanda or Trent from responding to his wife.
Amanda was impressed by his clarity of mind and attributed this to a professional life he must have led before retirement. Whatever it had been, he seemed seasoned in dealing with extreme stress. “The investigation is still rather new—”
“New? You said they were taken on Saturday, and Paul was found today. When did you even get the idea they were taken?”
“Last night,” Trent said, speaking up for the first time since stepping on the Archers’ property.
“And it took you until today to speak with us?” Bruce fired back.
“It took us some time to figure out what we were dealing with. There are procedures in place…” Amanda stopped talking there.
The Archers wouldn’t care about initially limiting the circle of those who knew, or appreciate the safeguard it could provide.
Not now, not in retrospect. “We’re doing all we can to find Valerie and Brooke and who is behind your son’s murder. ”
“Please pardon me for saying this,” Bruce began, “but we heard the same thing from the police back when our daughter went missing. We’ve heard it many times over the years from our son-in-law too. He’s a detective with the PWCPD. Lloyd McGee. Do you know him?”
She nodded. “We met on a previous case.” Another dark investigation but for reasons different than this one.
“He’s a decent man. He was really good for our Abigail. Loved our daughter more than any father could hope for. She meant the world to him, yet even with his intention and promises, here we are eight years later, no closer to knowing what happened to her.”
“We can’t stop hoping that she’s alive,” Deborah put in.
“Which I completely understand.” Amanda didn’t know much about the case, but evidence must have suggested Abigail never left of her own free will. “Hoping and believing in a positive outcome never hurts.” A lie… It was one she swallowed and wished the Archers would.
“Yes, well…” Bruce said.
“I need to ask, how was your son’s marriage?” Amanda didn’t want to come outright and ask if they knew of any affairs. It was best their responses came organically.
The couple looked at each other, and Bruce gestured for his wife to answer.
“She was a wonderful mother but not always a supportive wife. Sounds horrible to say in light of her… well, being taken. I don’t wish her any harm.”
“But your son and her got along all right?” Amanda applied just a bit more pressure.
“About as well as most marriages,” Deborah said.
“Could you elaborate?” The woman’s answer hadn’t been clear, and everyone’s experience with matrimony differed.
“They had their moments, their arguments, but nothing major, I don’t think,” Deborah added.
It didn’t seem they knew anything about Phillip Daily, their daughter-in-law’s lover, or mention of him would have spilled out by now.
“They’ve been under a lot of stress with Landon’s health.” Deborah wiped her cheeks again.
“You might know that he’s battling leukemia, nearing the final stage,” Bruce said, putting this out there as if he were talking about someone he didn’t know.
“He needs a bone marrow transplant,” Deborah added.
“Except none of us are a match.” Bruce’s voice broke at that admission, as if he held it against himself that he couldn’t help his grandson.
“I’m sorry to hear all of this.” So that’s why he’s a long-term patient…
“He’s been in the hospital for the last few months.” Bruce told them this and the name of the hospital, which they already knew. “Deb and I usually visit him several times a week. We were just getting ready to do that now.”
“Usually?” Trent asked, beating Amanda to the same question.
“We were out of town last week and haven’t been in touch with anyone,” Bruce said, his voice fracturing.
“Have you spoken with Landon?” Deborah met Amanda’s gaze.
“We haven’t.”
“But he is all right? He wasn’t taken?” Deborah’s eyes widened.
“No, he wasn’t,” Amanda told her, relishing one small cause for celebration.
“Could we tell him then? We’ll work it in when the timing is right. He’s already going through enough without this.”
Deborah made a strong case, and Amanda appreciated the offer. It would relieve them of serving notice, but they might still need to try speaking to him if the investigation led them there. “Yes, of course.”
“Thank you. I think it would be best if he heard this from us.” It was Bruce who spoke up with the gratitude.
“Before we leave…” After ripping your hearts apart like a hurricane… “Do you know of anyone who has an issue with your son or his wife? Anyone who would have a reason to do any of this?”
“None.”
“Did they have financial problems?” Trent asked, pen in hand over a page in his notebook.
“No. And if they did, Paul knew he could always come to us,” Bruce said.
Again, Amanda found herself curious what his career had been. “What did you do before retiring? I assume you’re retired.”
Bruce nodded. “I was a defense attorney.”
“He’s being humble. He owned his own firm. Sold it for a mint.”
Bruce blushed at his wife’s praise.
Amanda might consider ransom as the kidnappers’ motive if they hadn’t killed their strongest leverage. They did still have the granddaughter though. “You never received any calls, ransom demands?”
“No. Do you think this might be about money?” Bruce asked.
“It’s unlikely, but if you do receive a call, reach out to me immediately.” She stood and handed her business card to Bruce.
“We will,” he told her while Deborah sobbed.
“Again, we’re very sorry for your loss and will keep you posted,” Amanda said, and she and Trent saw themselves out.
“What are the chances that two siblings meet with such horrid luck?” Trent asked as he unlocked the car.
“It seems unfathomable, even if it’s been eight years since Abigail’s disappearance.” As she said this, a sinking sensation swirled in her gut. What if the passing time meant nothing? Did Abigail’s vanishing have something to do with what was happening now?