Chevy Stevens - Still Missing

Now that they had a name, they traced back trying to match his whereabouts with any unsolved crimes. They discovered his mother did die of cancer and his father indeed disappeared, and to this day the father’s car and body have never shown up.

When they couldn’t find any cold cases that fit, they reviewed some that were “solved” and came upon the case of a young woman named Lauren who was raped and beaten and left dead in the alley behind her house. A homeless man was caught with her bloody sweater and purse and tried for her murder. He died in prison a year later.

Simon Rousseau, who lived a few blocks down from Lauren, remained close to the family for years, even visiting Lauren’s mom every Christmas up until her death five years ago. I was glad the mom would never have to know she welcomed her daughter’s killer into her house every Christmas.

During his twenties Rousseau lived in Vancouver but worked in logging camps up north as a cook. And yes, a female helicopter pilot from one of the camps was found dead. But it was never investigated as a homicide. After her boyfriend got back to camp, he realized she was taking too long and went to find her. When he couldn’t, a search party was sent out but it took them a month to find her body at the bottom of a gulley. She was fully dressed and her neck was broken. Because it had been dusk when she was heading back to the camp, they assumed she had lost her way and fallen over the cliff.

Rousseau’s exact location and activities since he left prison were still unknown, and Gary said they might never know if he was responsible for any other crimes.

While Gary talked I’d been sitting on my couch fiddling with a loose thread on my throw. I’d just about unraveled the damn thing.

I said, “Are you back in Clayton Falls?”

“Still up in Eagle Glen.”

“You said you were going to Kinsol today?”

“I was, but a staff member I need to talk to at this motel isn’t coming in until tonight.”

“Talk to about what? I thought you were just showing the picture around. Did someone recognize him?”

“I’m just making sure I follow up on every avenue, then I’ll come back to Clayton Falls in the morning. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, clear as mud.”

“Sorry, Annie, but I can’t tell you anything more until all the facts are in. If we’re wrong it could cause you a lot of unnecessary anguish—”

“What are you saying? Are you telling me you know who hired The Freak? You can at least tell me if it’s someone I know, can’t you?”

“Annie…a lot is at stake here.”

“I’m perfectly aware a lot is at stake—it’s my life , remember? Or did you forget about that part?” At the sound of my harsh tone Emma left the room.

“Look, all I can tell you at this point is that after you identified Rousseau we obtained his criminal record, and based on the record we had another look at his known associates—that’s standard procedure in any investigation.”

While he was waiting for that information, he met with a few of the maids from the day shift at the motel in Eagle Glen. One of them thought the drawing of The Freak looked familiar, but when he showed her the mug shot she didn’t recognize him. But if it was the same guy in the sketch, she’d seen a woman wearing large sunglasses go into his room one morning and leave about fifteen minutes later. She didn’t see the car, but she thought one of the other maids had been cleaning the rooms on the lower floor where the parking lot was. That’s who Gary was waiting to speak with.

My head was spinning. What woman met with The Freak?

I said, “Sorry, I’m just trying to…It’s a lot to take in all at once.”

“I understand. But it’s really important you don’t—”

“Sorry, my mom’s calling on the other line, I’ll pick it up and get rid of her or she’ll—”

“Don’t answer it!”

“Okay, okay.” But when the beeping finally stopped I said, “She’s just going to call back.”

“Have you talked to her about anything we discussed last night?” His voice was tight.

“Luke’s the only one I spoke with today, but I never—”

“You can’t discuss any of this with her, Annie.” Something in his tone set off alarm bells.

“Gary, this is my mom . If you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on right now, I’m going to call her and tell her every damn thing.”

“Jesus.” He was silent for a moment, then I heard him take a deep breath. “This is going to be hard for you to hear….”

“Just say it.”

“When you came up last night you mentioned your uncle was in Kinsol prison, so I checked if he and Simon Rousseau were there at the same time. They were. It’s also been confirmed that your uncle was known to have photos of his nieces on his cell walls. So after the maid’s description we faxed a request for a warrant to check your mother’s bank records for any unusual transactions.”

“I don’t…Why the hell would you do that?”

“I still need to talk to the other maid, but, Annie…” His voice turned gentle. “It looks like your mother might be involved.”

Oh, shit.

And that’s all I know. Right after Gary dropped his bomb-shell he had to take another call. He made me promise not to talk to anyone and said he’d phone me later. So that’s why I called you, Doc, and why I’ve been gripping this cell phone like my life depends on it, I had to get out of there, had to talk to somebody. I couldn’t stand pacing around my house wondering what bullshit theory the cops are coming up with now. Some dingbat maid sees a woman at a motel and they decide it’s my mom ? Talk about grasping at straws.

I wonder if Gary left a message at my house or if he remembers my cell number—can’t recall if I left it on his voice mail. Or even worse, what if he tried to call me on my drive here but I didn’t have cell coverage? There are some dead spots on the highway. I’ve got to get out of here—I need to try him again.

I know I look like shit today, but trust me, Doc, when you hear how my week went you’ll understand, and you’ll know why I asked for a longer session too.

On the drive home from our last appointment I passed a new billboard on the highway advertising the real estate project I was supposed to get. It was right near the turnoff to my aunt’s house and I thought about how annoyed she used to get when Mom talked about that deal. Then I realized Aunt Val doesn’t brag about how well Tamara’s doing in real estate anymore.

As soon as I got home I checked out Tamara’s Web site. She had a few nice listings but not nearly as many as she used to. Just for the heck of it I Googled her name and it came up on the Real Estate Council Web site—under disciplinary decisions. Turns out my perfect cousin was suspended last year for ninety days. She represented a numbered company buying a large piece of commercial land and never disclosed she was the owner of said company. Not smart.

Obviously Mom didn’t know or I’d have heard by now, everyone would’ve heard. Aunt Val’s lucky I went missing just before Tamara’s suspension was announced in our monthly Report from Council. Then it came to me.

When Gary called a half hour later I jumped right in. “I know who could have met with The Freak.”

Gary was quiet for a moment, then said, “Go ahead.”

“I just found out my cousin lost her real estate license right after I was abducted, but she’d have known it was going to happen for a while and my aunt never mentioned it. My mom and her sister are supercompetitive, and I was supposed to be getting this big project—”

“Annie—”