J. Jance - Hand of Evil

While she waited for Dave to call back, Ali worried about what she would tell him. She had used a possible connection to Crystal to galvanize him to action. Ali knew that sooner or later she would have to tell him what was really going on with his wayward daughter. Crystal wasn’t ever going to tell him. That would be up to Ali. Between worrying about telling Dave about Crystal’s issues and dreading the coming confrontation with the driver of the Explorer, Ali’s stress level was off the charts.

“Got it,” Dave said when he finally called back. “The 2001 Ford Explorer belongs to Curtis Wilson Uttley of 101 Blue Spruce Circle, Flagstaff, Arizona. Who is he? What’s going on?”

So CU was Curtis Uttley. That made sense, but before Ali could answer, she realized that the Explorer was headed for the exit ramp at McClintock. With traffic the way it was, Ali realized she could either drive or talk. She couldn’t do both.

“Thanks, Dave,” she said. “I’ll have to get back to you.”

At the light, the Explorer turned right on the red and headed south. Unfortunately, the vehicle two cars in front of Ali decided to go straight through the intersection. Ali was forced to wait interminably until the light finally turned green. By the time she made the corner, the Explorer had vanished.

For the next several minutes, Ali cruised the neighborhood streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of where the Explorer had gone. A Roto-Rooter truck was parked in front of one of the houses, but that was the only sign of life. Ali saw no pedestrians on the street, no joggers or kids out riding bikes, no people she could have asked for help in tracking down exactly where the missing SUV had gone.

Shaking with a combination of frayed nerves, letdown, and frustration, Ali eventually had to give it up and head back to Phoenix. On the way, she picked up her phone and called Dave back.

He answered right away. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I was driving,” she said. “Traffic was bad.”

“Tell me about Curtis Uttley’s vehicle. Where did you spot it? Was he driving it or was somebody else?”

“I was following it, but I lost it over in Tempe,” Ali said. “And I have no idea who was driving it. I couldn’t see inside. Why?”

“Because that vehicle is listed on a BOLO, a be-on-the-lookout-for, in a missing persons case out of Flagstaff,” Dave said. “Curtis Uttley reportedly left there on Tuesday night, supposedly to visit one of the casinos down in Scottsdale. He evidently has a bit of a gambling problem. His wife didn’t bother reporting him missing until today. Now tell me,” Dave added. “What’s going on?”

Ali felt her heart constrict as she found herself wondering if the CU who had been sending text messages to Crystal’s phone had been someone else and not the real Curtis Uttley at all. She had been pretending to be Crystal. Maybe someone else had been pretending to be Curtis Uttley. Clearly turnabout was fair play.

“I’m afraid this particular missing person may have far more serious problems than gambling,” Ali said.

“Why?” Dave asked. “What makes you say that?”

Ali didn’t answer directly. “Are you on your way here now?”

“As a matter of fact I am,” Dave said. “Why?”

“Because,” Ali told him. “We need to talk.”

Ali returned to the hospital to find Madeline Havens gone. Crystal was closeted with Detective Farris in a small conference room just off the lobby, and Bob Larson was still commiserating with Sandy Mitchell. If there had been any change in Kip’s situation, no one had bothered to come let Sandy know. That was where things stood when Edie Larson appeared on the scene.

Bob seemed surprised to see his wife. “What are you doing here?” he wanted to know.

“I had to come,” Edie declared. “No one’s exactly burning up the phone lines between here and Sedona letting me know what’s going on.”

“That’s because we don’t know. They’re not telling us anything,” Bob returned. “If he’s out of surgery, they may have taken him to the ICU.”

“Why don’t we find out then?” Edie asked. “Which way is the ICU? Let me go rattle a few cages.”

“I’ll go with you,” Bob offered, and off they went.

Once they were gone, Ali walked over to the conference room door and pushed it open. To Detective Farris’s obvious annoyance, Ali let herself into the room and placed Crystal’s cell phone on the table between them.

“What’s this?” Farris demanded. “Can’t you see we’re busy here?”

“Let me guess,” Ali said. “Crystal has told you that she was with some guy the other night but that she has no idea who he was or how to get in touch with him, right?”

Farris studied Ali somberly for a moment then nodded. Ali, in turn, directed her remarks to Crystal. “A woman from Flagstaff reported her husband missing this morning,” Ali continued. “His name is Curtis Uttley. Sound familiar, Crystal? And it happens that somebody using the name CU has been sending you text messages all afternoon. He’s been trying to be in touch; wanting to meet up with you in person. In fact, he came here to the hospital a little while ago, looking for you. He was driving a white Ford Explorer. Does that ring any bells?”

Crystal’s cheeks paled. “He, like, actually came here?” she asked.

Ali nodded. “He actually did,” she returned. “You didn’t happen to have your phone in your possession, but I did. So I’ve been texting him back for you. And because you weren’t straight with me and didn’t tell me what I was really dealing with, I followed him all the way to Tempe before I lost him. What do you think would have happened to me if I’d caught up with him?”

Refusing to meet Ali’s gaze, Crystal studied her hands and said nothing. “So what’s the deal, Crystal?” Ali prodded. “Did you tell Detective Farris exactly what you and Curtis Uttley were doing there in Mund’s Park the other night?”

“Making out,” Detective Farris supplied.

“I thought that’s what she’d say,” Ali said. “Actually they were doing quite a bit more than that, Detective Farris. So maybe it’s time you started the interview over again from scratch. And maybe this time Crystal will be kind enough to tell you what was really going on up there at Mund’s Park-and I do mean all of it. Like how she got there from Vegas and how she hooked up with Mr. Uttley. And don’t bother telling Detective Farris that you didn’t get a look at Mr. Hogan’s attackers. I know from hearing you barf your guts out in the ladies’ room that you recognized at least one of them. I’m guessing Curtis Uttley did, too, and that’s why he’s gone missing. He’s hiding out.”

Ali waited to see if Crystal would say anything. She didn’t.

“You might want to move along with that interview,” Ali continued. “With any luck, you’ll be finished before your father gets here.”

“Dad’s coming?” Crystal asked faintly.

“Yes, he is,” Ali said. “And believe me, he’s going to get an earful.”

With that, Ali left the conference room. Out in the lobby, Bob and Edie were nowhere to be seen. Sandy sat alone, deeply immersed in reading what seemed to be a Bible. Rather than interrupting her, Ali found a chair in a relatively quiet corner and turned on her computer. She planned to check for cutloose correspondence. Instead, on a whim, she logged on to the Internet and Googled Curtis Uttley. It turned out there were any number of listings, most of them talking about Curtis’s reputation as a trophy-winning coach of girls’ softball and soccer teams. The most recent mentions came as a result of coaching teams in the Flagstaff area. Previous items came from towns in Texas, Kansas, and California.