Elizabeth Heiter - Stalked

* * *

“Bill Cooke?”

The man scowling at her from behind a screen door might have had a strong resemblance to his daughter at one time. Blond hair, now receding back to the middle of his head, faded blue eyes, heavy lines alongside his mouth that suggested once he’d had reason to smile a lot. Now, from the top of his balding head to the bottom of his muddied boots, everything about him screamed “angry.”

“Yeah.” Bill glanced from Evelyn to Sophia as they stood cramped together on the small stoop in front of his house. “What now? You haven’t found her, have you?”

“Don’t you want us to?” Evelyn asked, surprised by the tone of the question.

Bill stepped back, held the door open. “Maybe she’s better off if you don’t. I’m telling you, Haley ran away. Linda’s looking for attention, but my daughter was just trying to escape.”

“You think she ran away?” Evelyn prompted as she slid sideways past Bill and stepped through the doorway, taking in the tidy entryway tracked through with fresh mud.

They didn’t have any snow, but the ground was still near frozen. Where had Bill Cooke gone to get mud all over his boots?

“Yeah, and I’ve told that to Detective Lopez here a hundred times. Who are you? New to the police force? Don’t you people share your notes? No wonder you can’t find Haley.”

Ignoring the dig, Evelyn held out a hand as Bill stepped farther back. Sophia joined them inside, closing the heavier door behind them and shutting out the fierce wind. It may have been unusually warm over the past month, but it was still January.

“Special Agent Evelyn Baine. I’m consulting from the FBI on your daughter’s case.”

Instead of shaking her hand, Bill wrapped two work-roughened hands around hers and squeezed; she tried to remember what he did for a living.

“I appreciate the thought, Agent Baine. But my daughter is fine.”

“Have you heard from her?” Sophia asked, stepping forward slowly, and making Bill drop Evelyn’s hand and move back. Instinct when someone stepped into your personal space, and a smart way for Sophia to get farther into the house.

She’d told Evelyn that he’d never invited her inside before, instead always insisting on meeting at the police station. Evelyn had wanted to do this interview spontaneously, hoping it would change things, but she was still surprised he’d invited them in so easily. If he’d ever had Haley hidden here, it suggested he didn’t now.

“No, I haven’t heard from my daughter. And I doubt I will. At least not until she’s eighteen and she can finally be free of her mother and Linda’s new husband.” He spat out “husband” as if it was a dirty word.

Sophia stepped forward again, but this time, Bill didn’t move, just crossed his arms and stared back at her. The aggression in his eyes was barely concealed by the exasperation.

“Why are you so convinced she ran away?”

“We’ve been through this. Haley hated living in that house. Linda’s new husband is a real jerk. He resents having to deal with a teenager, treated Haley like crap.”

“How so?” Evelyn asked, hoping he’d be more willing to go through the details again if she was the one asking, instead of Sophia.

He studied her, and she could see him cataloging the details: long, dark hair, carefully knotted into a bun; light green eyes from her mother that always stood out against light brown skin, which had come from her father; prim black suit, cut too large to conceal her weapon, that made her look even smaller than she already was.

She suspected he’d be like a lot of suspects and translate “small” into “not a threat.” If he was responsible for Haley’s disappearance, though, she vowed to make him regret it.

“Haley never told me any specifics. But she made all these offhand remarks about Pete Varner that made me think...” He shuffled his feet, drawing Evelyn’s attention back to the mud on his boots, an odd contrast to the clean, tidy house.

At least what she could see of the house. The three of them were jammed into the entryway, just far enough back that Evelyn could peer into a small living room. Everything looked dust and knickknack free, but nothing had much personality. Just a dark, matched set of furniture and a big-screen TV, probably purchased after the divorce.

She wondered how much of Bill’s animosity had justification, and how much was just resentment toward his family for moving on. Then again, all she knew about Linda’s new husband, Pete Varner, was what was in the background checks Sophia had completed. Nothing had stood out, other than his job installing vending machines. A job that took him to a lot of high schools, including Haley’s. Maybe he’d seen the daughter before he’d married the mother.

“You think there was sexual abuse?” Evelyn cut straight to the point, watching Bill carefully.

His head jerked backward at the question, and he shook his head. “No, not... No. I don’t think so.”

“So what kind of abuse? Does Pete hit her?” Evelyn pressed.

“I—I don’t know. Maybe.” Bill fidgeted. “What I know is she was unhappy. What I know is she hated it there. She ran away.” He yanked his wrist up, stared at his watch, then said, “I’ve got to be somewhere soon. Call next time and I’ll come to the station.”

“This could help us locate Haley,” Evelyn started.

“You’re not asking me anything I haven’t already told Detective Lopez,” Bill responded. “And here’s the thing—I know Haley ran away. I’m not going to help you bring her back to her crazy mother and that asshole she married.”

“What if she didn’t run away?” Evelyn pushed, even as Bill got in her personal space, practically herding her out the door. “What if you’re wrong?”

She didn’t move, just tilted her head back so she could look up at Bill, who had almost a foot on her. Sophia stayed right beside her.

“I’m sure—”

“You haven’t heard from her,” Evelyn reminded him. “Which means there’s a chance someone took her. Even if there’s only a small possibility she’s in trouble, don’t you want to make sure she’s okay?”

Something shifted in Bill’s eyes, but Evelyn couldn’t be certain what she’d seen before he blinked and it was gone.

“That didn’t happen,” Bill insisted, and this time, he actually put his hand on her arm, pushing her backward. “I want you to leave.”

Evelyn pulled free of his grasp, and planted her feet farther apart. “Okay.” She peeled off a card and handed it to him. “But the FBI doesn’t usually waste their time chasing runaways. Call me if you think of anything that might help.”

She turned and headed for the door, but not before she saw him frown down at her card.

Once they were back in Sophia’s police car, Evelyn asked, “What does Bill Cooke do for a living?”

“He’s a construction foreman. Why?”

Evelyn nodded. That might explain the mud on his boots, although she still found it odd that he’d track mud through his ultraclean house to answer the door for them. Especially since he hadn’t wanted them there. But maybe he hadn’t looked through the peephole before he’d opened the door. Or he’d been so anxious to deal with them and then get rid of them he wasn’t worried about the mud. “Just curious.”

Sophia jabbed her keys into the ignition, but didn’t start it up. “Okay, I have a question, too. What do you think? Is Bill Cooke lying to us? Did he take Haley?”

Evelyn frowned at the house as they sat in the driveway. She could see the curtain move at the front of the house, as though Bill was watching them. “He’s lying. I’m not sure what about—maybe the abuse claims. But he seemed genuinely surprised—and worried—when I mentioned sexual abuse. So, it’s hard to say. I don’t think he would have let us in the house if he had Haley in there. But does he know where she is?”