“I know who you are, and I do. Our former neighbors have told me about your articles, especially the one that appeared in the paper today. They said you did a wonderful job. I haven’t seen it myself of course.”
“I’d be happy to bring you a copy. That is what I’m calling about. I’d like to come and talk to you and Mr. Cranston in person. I know our last phone call before my article seemed a little strained. I’d like to get both of you on the record about Sandy. If that would be, okay?” Quinn said, giving the woman time to consider this as she took a pause for a breath. “I really am hoping my articles will help find your daughter. I’ve already had an FBI agent contact us at the Observer today, and he is spearheading a task force to search for the missing women so that is something to be grateful for, don’t you agree?”
“It would be wonderful to know what happened to our girl. She was our world, and I don’t believe she would go off by herself as some speculated at her college when we discovered she was missing,” Mrs. Cranston said.
“They did?”
“Yes. When she didn’t come home for Thanksgiving, we got worried. We thought she’d had a wreck or something coming home, but there was no evidence of that when we called the local authorities or hospitals. And with it being a holiday we had to wait the whole weekend to get in touch with the Dean of Students at her university to find out no one had seen her since homecoming weekend. That was nearly six weeks she’d been missing that we could have been looking. Six weeks that the university should have contacted us. But they have these HIPPA…no, that’s not right. FE-FERPA regulations in place now so a parent is the last to know.”
“Did she have a roommate?” Quinn asked.
“Yes, but apparently that girl was never there. She stayed with her boyfriend most of the time. So, she didn’t notice when Sandy didn’t show up in their dorm room the night of the homecoming game. I know that is when she went missing because we talked before she left for the game, and that was the last time we spoke and the last time anyone in the dorm saw her.”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Cranston, that this happened. Can I come there and speak with you and your husband about this?” She asked again.
“Yes. Lee might not want to get into it. He feels talking about it will not bring her back, but he can’t take it anymore. He gets home from work at four. If you can come around then…I’ll see what we can do. If we can find her and get closure….”
“Certainly. We’ll see you then. And talking does help. I lost my parents in a hotel bombing in Tel Aviv when I was young. I didn’t understand it at the time, but my grandmother made me talk about them relentlessly afterward, and it helped me get through it.”
“Until then.”
The line went dead.
Her breath caught in her throat. She’d done it. She’d gotten the woman to agree to see her and she felt she’d made an inroad with her getting some info out of her about the last time she’d spoken to her daughter that day. She plugged the address of the Cranston’s into her phone for GPS.
Grimm came into the conference room mid-conversation with Sheraton, and she gave him a thumbs-up sign. He stopped walking and his brows arched, and she nodded. Sheraton glanced her way and she smiled.
“Okay, what’s going on?” he asked.
“I just got Mrs. Cranston to agree to meet with us at four today. Any luck getting in touch with Logan? Is he free to go too?”
“He’s tied up with another case, but if she invited you then you may not need him,” Sheraton said.
“Maybe not. We did make a connection in this phone call that we didn’t the other day. I think it’s because her husband wasn’t there, and she felt freer to speak with me. She opened more. He doesn’t like talking about their daughter’s disappearance. He feels it isn’t going to bring her back.”
“Then I wonder how Burrows got them to talk to him so openly?” Grimm said.
“Not sure,” Quinn said. “We’ll have to find that out next time he’s here. I also believe Mrs. Cranston was moved by the fact her old neighbors from here had been contacting her about the articles I was writing, and she was encouraged when I told her about Agent Street opening a task force investigation.”
“All good signs,” Sheraton said.
“If we need to be there by four, when do we need to leave here?” Grimm asked.
“GPS says it’s an hour and forty-eight minutes from Altoona. Let’s at least leave by two to play it safe. We never know when there could be a backup on the interstate. I’d rather be a few minutes early than run late,” Quinn said. “She’s already going to have to persuade Mr. Cranston to see us once we arrive. Let’s at least make it easy on her by being on time.”
Grimm nodded.
“I was telling Grimm how we’ve been getting favorable remarks about your article. Comments online as well as calls to the newspaper have been glowing,” Sheraton said.
“And no death threats today,” Quinn added.
CHAPTER 6
The Cranston’slived in a modest two-story home on Windmere Avenue in Pittsburgh. It was a nice neighborhood of homes that looked to all have been built in the early 1920s but were well kept and renovated over the years. They arrived right at four as a black Lincoln SUV with tinted windows was leaving the drive with a specialized license plate reading BEAMER.
“I don’t believe it,” Quinn said, twisting around in her seat and watching the SUV drive away.
“What?”
