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“Well, that doesn’t make them bad people,” frowned Whiskey. “Perhaps misguided, but not bad. Do you suspect that the daughter was abused at all?”
“Oh, no. Not at all. She was actually quite lovely, very polite. She attended a few parties here at the house, and the girls were always very nice to her. I think her mother made sure that she had appropriate clothing, that sort of thing. She even sent her to debutante classes. Danielle is better-mannered than any kid I know. Kids were mean when I was in school, and they seem more accepting today. Christina said she felt sorry for her because her parents wouldn’t let her date.”
“And she’s seventeen?” asked Nine.
“Yes. In fact, all three of them were seventeen.”
“Maybe she was frustrated by not being able to date and met someone online,” said Whiskey.
“I’m not sure,” said Mrs. Russell. “Listen, we’re worried sick about this. The police mentioned that it might have something to do with the tattoo artist who did the tattoo for Christina. But they also said they couldn’t find him. How is that possible?”
“We’re not sure, but that’s what we’re working on as well.” The men stood, setting the coffee cups down. “Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else, please call this number, and someone will always answer.”
“Gray Wolf Security?” frowned Mr. Russell. “I thought you weren’t private investigators.”
“We’re not. We’re much better.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“This is really fucked up,” said Whiskey as they got back into the truck. “These are all good kids, at least on the surface. I wonder if there was something happening online.”
“I don’t know, but I want to speak to the other parents. Bowen’s aunt lives just down the street. Let’s see if she’s home.”
They had their answer the moment they rounded the curve in the road. Her lawn was covered in ‘missing’ signs with her nephew’s photo plastered everywhere.
“A little overkill,” said Whiskey. “She might be drawing unwanted attention to that house.”
“I doubt we’ll convince her of that,” said Nine. He stepped out of the car and walked toward the front door. Before they even got up the first step, the door flew open, and a haggard woman yelled at them.
“Did you find him? Are you with the police? If you’re not, why are you here?”
“Ma’am, if you’ll give us a moment to explain,” said Nine, raising his hands in the air. “We’re with Gray Wolf Security, and we’d like to ask you some questions about your nephew.”
She stared at the two men, her chest heaving up and down. Nodding, she opened the door further for them to come in. The house was modern, with nice furnishings, but it was a mess. Newspaper clippings and stories printed from the internet were lying all over every available surface, including the floor. She bent down to pick them up, and Whiskey grabbed her arm.
“Let me,” he said, giving her an empathetic smile. Making a path for them to get to the table, she nodded, then took a seat. Whiskey stacked the papers on the table beside her, giving a little smile. “Maybe I should make you some tea or something.”
“I don’t have anything. I’m sorry. I’ve been afraid to leave the house, worried that Spencer would call.”
“Don’t you have a cell phone?” asked Nine.
“No. I didn’t want Spencer to get distracted from his grades, so I refused to buy him a cell phone and did the same with myself. I wanted to show him that I was being fair. Neither of us would have one.”
“But what about a computer? Kids have to have those for school.”
“Yes. I know. I gave in on that, but I monitor everything, watch it all to be sure he doesn’t look at anything perverted or get involved in gaming or one of those chat rooms.”
“I see,” said Whiskey, nodding. She stared at the men, shaking her head.
“You think I’m overprotective.” Neither of them said a word, just stared at the woman. She shook her head again, running her hand over her messy braids.
“I guess I am. My brother and I were best friends. Closer than any two children could possibly be. When he married Marsha, they were so happy, and I was happy for them. Then Spencer came along. Lord, how I love that boy.
“I can’t have children of my own, so he spent a lot of time with me. When they wanted me to watch him so they could go skiing, I jumped at the chance. I hate myself every day for not saying no. They wouldn’t have gone. They wouldn’t leave him with anyone except me. I guess I held him too tightly.”
“Do you think he ran away?” asked Nine.
“No. No, I know he wouldn’t do that. He might have sneaked a tattoo, according to the police anyway. Or he might have used someone else’s cell phone or laptop, but he wouldn’t run away. We were very, very close. Spencer is a smart kid. Great grades, runs track. He’s got division one colleges recruiting him for their programs. They’re calling me all the time.” She shook her head.
