Missing Persons (21 page)

When Vera came back into the room, she caught me staring at it.

“He looks so happy,” I said. “He looks like he’s in love with you.” I could feel my face flush from the realization that it was the same beaming expression I’d seen in the photos of our wedding reception.

“I think he was in love with you too,” she said quietly.

I took a breath. “Maybe.”

I had a feeling Vera was on the verge of crying, but thankfully my cell phone rang and interrupted the moment. I didn’t recognize the number but I picked up anyway.

“Kate? This is Yvette Rosenthal,” the woman said. “Is this a good time?”

“Of course, Detective, but we’re done shooting the episode so—”

“You might want to change your mind. We found a lead on Theresa. Her purse was discovered in a forest preserve near Brookfield. We’re setting up a grid search now.”

“I’ll see if I can get the crew together,” I said, “if it’s okay to shoot it.”

“Are you kidding me? I think you must be my lucky charm. I had pretty much given up on this case until you came along, and now”—she paused—“we may actually be close to finding her.”

A
s soon as I hung up with Detective Rosenthal, I called Mike.

“You’re never going to believe this,” I said. “They found Theresa’s purse in a forest preserve just west of Chicago.”

“Who’s Theresa?”

“
Missing Persons
, episode one.”

“Shit!” Mike yelled. “They found something. That’s amazing. Call Andres. Get him to meet you there. Get lots of stuff of dogs sniffing things, cops looking concerned. You know the drill. Is the family going?”

“I don’t know.”

“Call them. Call everyone. Get statements. They’re hopeful, they’re excited. Man, we can end the show with stuff about how the family is so close to knowing the truth. All we need now is the public’s help. Great work, Kate.”

“I didn’t actually find the purse.”

“Yeah, but the detective liked you enough to call. That’s great work.”

I’d never heard Mike so excited. And I was a little excited too. It was rare for us actually to be there while a story was unfolding. It made me feel a little like I was working in news again.

“Listen, Kate.” Mike’s voice sounded more serious. “One full day, no overtime. Okay?”

I called Andres, who promised to call Victor and meet me at the scene. I tried Linda Moretti but didn’t get an answer. Same for Julia and Wyatt. All that was left was the half-hour drive to Brookfield, but when I stood up, I felt a little dizzy.

“Are you okay?” Vera asked. “You’ve seemed out of it all day.”

“I haven’t eaten anything yet,” I said. “And maybe I didn’t get as much sleep as I needed.”

“I’ll drive. I’m not doing anything and it sounds kind of fun.”

Before I had a chance to protest, she had me downstairs and into the passenger seat of her hybrid Mercedes, three boxes of Frank’s things in the backseat. I grabbed a burger at a fast-food place hoping some food would make me feel better, but it only made me feel worse.

By the time we got to Brookfield, a nice little town most famous for its world-class zoo, I was feeling the effects of heat, bad food, and no sleep. The thing I’d done right—put the image of the dead bird out of my mind—came back when we passed a dead deer lying on the side of the road.

“Rest in peace, little deer,” Vera called to it.

“You’re a big animal lover, aren’t you?” I asked.

She smiled. “Yes, I guess.”

Nut job or nice person. I stared at the unassuming woman who had given up her afternoon to drive her lover’s widow to work. The evidence might be tipping in her favor, but as far as I was concerned the jury was still out.

 

 

Though it was a large wooded area, it was hard to miss the right spot for the search. There were several Brookfield police cars, two patrol cars with the Illinois State Police logo, and half a dozen other vehicles all parked haphazardly. The parking area looked down on a clearing where the cops and several others had gathered.

Andres and Victor were standing by the van, waiting.

“What do we do?” Andres asked.

“Start by following Rosenthal, wherever she is,” I said. “We’ll get statements later.”

Detective Rosenthal, as it turned out, was consulting with the Moretti family. Linda, Tom, and a dozen others were huddled together about a hundred feet from the cars.

“There’s your boyfriend,” Victor said as we approached the Morettis.

I looked where he was pointing and saw Gray Meyer approaching the group. In jeans and a light-blue T-shirt, he looked even more handsome than he had in his suit. But he also looked serious and slightly angry.

“You know Gray?” Vera asked.

“
You
know Gray?” I asked back.

“We went to school together.”

Once Gray saw us, and particularly Vera, the serious expression transformed to a bright, friendly smile. He and Vera hugged and chatted. I left them to their reunion and approached Detective Rosenthal, who was walking away from Theresa’s family.

“Can you show us the purse?” I asked.

“It’s being taken into evidence.”

“If it’s bagged already we’ll shoot it through the bag.”

She nodded. Within minutes, Andres was getting close-up shots of Theresa’s driver’s license, her debit card, a lipstick, and a torn piece of paper with the numbers
4
,
3
, and
7
written on it in ink. All the items were remarkably well preserved, having been inside Theresa’s purse the whole time. And now these small items from her everyday life were sealed in plastic bags with bright red evidence tape across them.

The purse itself was not in good shape. It was dirty and wet and the handles were torn. Her mother had said that Theresa’s purse was tan, but this purse looked more gray than tan. Still, Linda had identified it as belonging to Theresa. The ravages of Chicago weather were likely the cause of the color change, Rosenthal explained. It made me wonder what Chicago weather had done to Theresa’s body, assuming she was somewhere in these woods. One look at Rosenthal, and I knew she was thinking the same thing.

“T
he state police received a call this morning from a man who was out taking photographs. He found the purse,” Detective Rosenthal said. “They checked their database, found that there was a missing persons report on Theresa Moretti, and called me.”

We were standing away from the others, with the police cars and activity in the background. There wasn’t time, or the need, for a proper interview. We just set up the camera while Victor held a boom mic and I started asking questions.

“Why did it take so long for her purse to be found?”

“It might have been buried, probably under less than a foot of dirt. During the winter the ice and snow would have displaced some of the soil. And, of course, animals would have too. A deer or even a raccoon could have dragged it a dozen yards or more from its original spot, which is why we have to create a wide search area.”

“How important is this?”

“It’s the first piece of evidence we’ve had that even suggested Theresa’s whereabouts. We know her purse was here, and judging by the condition, it looks like it’s been here awhile.”

“That would suggest Theresa might be here too,” I said. “Her body might be in these woods. The weather and animals might have displaced some of the soil over her body.”

“We’re setting up a grid search right now. We’ll go through the area searching for evidence, see what we can find. If Theresa is here, we’re going to do everything we can to find her.”

With that Rosenthal headed back to the rest of the growing police presence. Crime scene tape had been put up around the trees on the perimeter, leaving us with little to do but sweat. The temperature closed in on ninety degrees, making my headache worse. I leaned against Andres’s van and tried to close my eyes, but there was too much activity and I didn’t want to miss a good shot.

Julia and David arrived about twenty minutes after I did, and they were sitting on the grass with the Moretti family, waiting for news. Whatever their differences, the possibility of finding Theresa had left them seeking comfort from each other. Sort of like Vera and me the night in the hospital. A few minutes later Wyatt came, waved hello to me, and sat next to Linda, who rested her head on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to interrupt,” I said to the group.

“Then don’t,” Tom replied.

“Tom,” Linda said. “I’m sorry, Kate. As you can imagine . . .”

“That’s the thing, I can’t imagine. I can’t even begin to know what you’re going through. I don’t think anyone who hasn’t been in your situation can.” I reached out for her hand, which she took and held tight. “I’m just wondering if any of you would like something to drink. I can get water or some food.”

“Maybe some water,” Linda said. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all.”

I went back to the car and sent Victor to the nearest convenience store to buy three cases of water, whatever snacks he could get for no more than fifty bucks, and some aspirin for me. When he returned, we distributed the water and food to the police and growing number of friends and family members that had begun to arrive. Everyone was, naturally, grateful for the act of agenda-free generosity. Victor and I accepted the thanks, while Andres hung back, shaking his head.

After a few minutes, I returned to the group. “I hate to do this.” I crouched down between Linda and Wyatt. “My boss just called and he insists on getting a statement from the family. I told him I didn’t want to disturb you, but, well, you know bosses. I think Wyatt will do if you aren’t up for it, Linda. I feel so bad . . .”

“Not at all.” Linda got up from the grass. “Anything I can do, after all you’ve done for us.”

We set Linda up so her friends and family were in the background, several yards behind her. She looked as though she’d aged twenty years since the day before.

“What information do you have about what’s going on today?” I asked.

“Very little. Detective Rosenthal called this morning and told us that Theresa’s purse had been found. Naturally we drove here right away, and we’re just waiting now.”

“Waiting for what?”

“Information. More evidence. Something that will tell us where to find Theresa.”

“Do you think Theresa is here?” It was a tough question, but it had to be asked.

Linda shook her head, unwilling to let go of her theory on the disappearance. “No. I think her kidnapper dropped her things here. But maybe we can find something that will give us a lead.”

“Like fingerprints?”

“Exactly.” Her face lit up. “His fingerprints could be on her things. The things found in the purse. Then we could find her.”

“Who called Wyatt and Julia?” I had, of course, but I hadn’t reached them. I didn’t leave messages, so they hadn’t shown up because of me.

“I did,” Linda said. “I thought if there was a search, the police might need volunteers, so we called everyone we could think of to come help.”

I looked behind her and saw a team of cadaver dogs and their trainers. It wasn’t the search team Linda was hoping for. I also saw Gray introducing Detective Rosenthal to Vera.

“Thanks, Linda,” I said. “I think we have what we need.”

I saw Andres shooting Vera and Gray with Rosenthal. I almost placed my hand in front of his lens, but I knew he was just getting the necessary B-roll we’d need of all our interview subjects at the scene. It was weird, though. Vera had been inching her way into my life since the day Frank died. Now she was becoming part of my work as well.

“Who is that woman?” Andres asked. “The one standing next to Gray. That’s not his wife, is it?”

“It’s Vera.”

I could see Andres’s camera dip. “Not your Vera.”

I watched her smile and touch Gray’s arm. “Apparently she’s everybody’s Vera.”

“H
i,” I said to Gray. “I’m sorry I haven’t come over sooner.” “I see you guys are shooting this. That’s great.” He flashed the same perfect smile from the day of the interview. “And listen, thanks for all the water. I know the family really appreciates what you’ve done.”

“I’m glad to help. I see you know Vera.”

Vera, who had been standing next to Gray but watching the crowd, suddenly turned to me. “What are the odds?”

“Two wealthy Chicagoans who live in adjacent neighborhoods, both of whom get their pictures on the society pages? I’d say the odds were very good you’d know each other.”

Gray blushed. “Hopefully the society pages aren’t all we have in common.”

“Is Vera your source of information about my husband?”

Vera seemed confused. “What are you talking about?”

Gray didn’t answer. He just stood there, studying me. The thing about people born to a certain amount of money and influence is that they’re used to dividing the world into “us” and “not us.” I was definitely in the latter category for Gray Meyer, and therefore, I suppose, not expected to challenge him. As much as I didn’t want to be at odds with a man I might have to interview for another story, I was also tired of being mouse to Gray’s cat.

I was about to say something to that effect, but before I had a chance to, the search dogs started barking furiously.

“I’ll be back,” Gray said and ran toward the noise.

Tom got up to join him, but he was turned away by the police. We all stood, waiting for what seemed like forever. I caught Andres’s eye and motioned for him to shoot the family. He nodded.

Within minutes, a young officer came out of the woods and shouted, “False alarm.”

Instead of relief, the announcement just added to the tension.

“How do you take all of this pain?” Vera asked.

“It’s not my pain.”