Two hours.
Robin sat in an interview room at Parker Center, the LAPD downtown headquarters, checking her watch and trying to understand how two hours could have passed since she'd ridden here in the backseat of a patrol car.
Time seemed to have become disjointed in some unaccountable way. At some moments she felt she'd been sitting for a lifetime in this uncomfortable straight-back chair, facing the mirror that obviously served as the window of an observation room next door. At other moments she had the impression that she'd just taken her seat, and no time whatsoever had passed.
The ticking hand of her wristwatch was her only contact with objective reality, and it told her that the time was seven-fifteen. She'd left her office 120 minutes ago. And Meg had been missing for roughly an hour before that.
One thought sustained her: Gray didn't kill them right away. He let his victims live for a whilea few hoursbefore he took their lives. And in all the previous cases there had never been any indication of rape or torture. That was something, anyway. Something to hold on to.
She wasn't sure how long she had sat unmoving on the sofa in her office, after learning that Meg was gone. What she remembered was Lieutenant Wolper's voice finally reaching her after what must have been many attempts.
"Dr. Cameron?"
"Yes," she'd said. "Yes, I understand."
She wasn't sure what she understood. Her own name, maybe.
"Doctor, we're going to need a detailed statement."
"I've already gone over what happened."
"We'll need you to go over it again."
"Why? How does that accomplish anything? How does it help Meg?"
"Any little fact or observation might be significant. Do you feel up to going to Parker Center?"
"I can go there." She could do whatever she had to do.
"Okay, I'll arrange it."
She stopped him as he started to walk away. "If your son were missing, you'd do everything to find him, wouldn't you? Everything possible."
"Of course."
"That's how I want you to treat this case. As if it were your son."
"I will. We all will."
Leaving the office building had been a nightmaremore accurately, a fragment of the ongoing nightmare her life had become. A crowd of TV and radio people had gathered in the parking lot. She kept her face down as Wolper and two uniformed officers escorted her past cameras and microphones. Questions were shouted. People were asking, How did she feel? She wanted to scream at them to shut up. She wanted to smash the camera lenses that were making her private tragedy into a show.
At Parker Center she had waited in this interview room, running her hands over the steel eyebolt secured to the scarred wooden table. The eyebolt, she supposed, was used for handcuffing prisoners. That was what she wasa prisoner, held captive by Justin Gray, her future dependent on the unpredictable workings of his mind.
When Wolper finally entered, carrying a portable tape recorder and a Styrofoam cup of water for her, he wore the tired, bemused look of a man who had won a bureaucratic battle. She imagined he'd had to fight to stay on the investigation. The case was a big one. A lot of people would want to be in on it. And Wolper was out of his territory and off duty, to boot. Still, he was the one who interviewed her. There probably were other people watching from behind the mirror, maybe even videotaping the session through the oneway glass, but she didn't care.
Wolper turned on the tape recorder and recited the date and time. He had her give her name, then led her gently through her session with Gray, the shutdown of the MBI gear, then the sudden movement in the shadows. She glossed over her period of unconsciousness, still afraid she would be sent to the hospital if anyone found out about that.
"When did Gray kill Deputy Rivers?" Wolper asked.
Rivers. So that was the man's name. "After he knocked me down."
"You didn't shout for help, alert him somehow?"
She compromised with the truth. "I was woozy, disoriented. It all happened very fast."
"Did you see him kill the deputy?"
"No, I was amp; stunned."
"When he returned to you, was he wearing the deputy's pants over his jumpsuit?"
"Yes."
"If he had time to change, you must've been woozy for a couple of minutes."
Guilt made her impatient. "I wasn't timing it with a stopwatch," she snapped.
"All right." He let it go. "So Gray came back to take your jacket."
"Yes."
"And your wallet and car keys."
"Yes."
"But he didn't hurt you."
"He threatened me. But no, he didn't do anything."
"Kind of weird, isn't it? I mean, he's just murdered Deputy Rivers in cold blood. Then he comes back into the office and treats you with kid gloves."
"If that's how you describe having a screwdriver held to your throat."
"My point is, he could have killed you. He didn't."
"So?"
"So maybe this therapy of yours has actually had some effect."
Oddly, this particular thought had never occurred to her.
"He killed the deputy," she said slowly, "and he's abducted Meg."
"He killed the deputy because he had to. It was kill or be killed. As for your daughter, we don't know what he's thinking or what he'll do. If he let you live, it could mean he's having second thoughts about killing. It could mean he'll hesitate before hurting Meg."
"I'd like to believe that."
"Did you feel you were making progress with him?"
"I thought so, but he wasn't exactly the type to share his feelings."
"Hostile?"
"Sarcastic. Manipulative. Not as hostile as amp;" As Brand, she nearly said. But it wouldn't be appropriate to discuss Brand's treatment here, especially if other cops were listening on the other side of the mirror.
Still, the thought lingered. Brand amp;
"Robin?" Wolper was watching her. "You okay?"
She shook off whatever idea had half formed in her mind. "I've gone over this enough," she said.
"Yeah, I think you have."
"So what do we do now?" she whispered.
"We wait," Wolper said.
He had been right about that. They sat together for a while, bound by awkward silence, until he found an excuse to leave. Then she'd been alone. From beyond the closed door of the interview room came sounds of activityfootsteps, ringing phones, shouts, the slamming of doors and the sizzle of radios. She registered these noises distantly, like the confused memories of a dream.
Wolper returned twice with updates. The LAPD was working with the Sheriff's Department to set up roadblocks on desert roads near the previous crime scenes. All local law-enforcement agencies had been alerted to look for the Saab, for Gray, and for Meg. Hammond had gone public with an official statement on the escape and the abduction, though without mentioning Robin or Meg by name. Interviews of neighbors at the condo building had turned up nothing, and no clues had been found at her homeno indication of when or how Meg had been kidnapped or when she'd been taken.
There was nothing for Robin to do. But she couldn't just sit here. The enforced inactivity would make her crazy.
She fished her cell phone out of her purse and called Mrs. Grandy.
"Oh, dear, I've been talking to the police," the woman said after Robin identified herself. "Is Meg amp;? Has something happened?"
"She's missing. She's been abducted."
"Oh, dear, dear amp;"
"You didn't see anything, I take it?" Robin knew Mrs. Grandy spent a good deal of her time sitting by the window, and she missed little of what went on in the courtyard below.
"Not a thing, I'm so sorry. I wasn't feeling well today, and I was lying down for most of the day. That's what I told the officers."
Robin had figured as much. There was no reason that she would be able to obtain information the police had overlooked. "Well, I just wanted to ask. If you remember anything"
"I wish I could help, dear. Has your husband been told yet?"
Dan. Robin had forgotten about him. She felt a pang of guilt. "No. I'd better let him know."
"Is he still in town?"
"Still? He hasn't been in LA in months. He lives in Santa Barbara."
"Wasn't he here yesterday?"
Robin blinked. "Well, no. Not that I know of. What makes you say that?"
"I just assumed that's who Meg was with."
"When?"
"Yesterday afternoon."
"You're saying someone was with Meg yesterday?"
"Why, yes. A man came to visit. Nicely dressed, jacket and tie. I've never met your husband, of course, but I thought it must be him."
"So it wasn't a high school student? One of Meg's friends?"
"Oh, certainly not. This man was about forty, I'd say. Wasn't it your husband?"
"I don't think so. Did you get a look at him?"
"My eyes aren't what they used to be. He had dark hair. I noticed that much. I think he was tall. Taller than Meg, when they stood together in the doorway. And she's getting to be quite tall for her age."
Dan was blond and not very tall. It didn't sound like him. "Did you see anything else?"
"Not really. Meg let him in. They seemed to know each other. They were talking. I didn't see him leave. I take my tea in the afternoon, you know, so I may have been in the kitchen amp;"
"Okay, Mrs. Grandy. Thanks."
"Should I have told this to the police? I didn't think"
"No, I'll take care of it. The police may want to talk to you again. Thanks very much."
Robin ended the call and sat unmoving for a minute.
Meg had received a visitor yesterday afternoon. A tall man with dark hair, a man of about forty in a jacket and tie.
What the hell was that all about?
She didn't know. She couldn't think. Maybe it was Dan, making contact on the sly, and Mrs. Grandy had gotten the details wrong. But why would Meg neglect to mention a visit from her father? The two of them weren't close. It made no sense.
She could call Dan, tell him what had happened, feel him out amp;
No, not yet. There was another call to make first.
She speed-dialed her home number. A man's voice answered. "Officer Pierce."
"This is Robin Cameron. It's my house you're in."
"Yes, ma'am?"
"I wonder if I could speak to whoever's in charge."
"The supervising detectives from RHD just got here. They're still being briefed by the first officer."
"Is there somebody, uh, working the scene? Gathering evidence?"
"You mean SID?"
She thought he'd said Sid. "If that's his name amp;"
"No, I mean SID." He spelled it out. "Scientific Investigation Division. The forensics guys. They're bagging and tagging."
"May I talk to one of them?"
"One moment." There was a pause, some faint conversation, then a new man's voice on the phone. "Dr. Cameron? This is Criminalist Gaines."
She was glad he knew she was a doctor. It might help him take her more seriously.
She reported what Mrs. Grandy had said. "I know we're all working on the assumption that Justin Gray took my daughter. And that's probably what happened. But amp;"
"You think this other man might have something to do with it?"
"It's possible."
"That's interesting," Gaines said. He pronounced the words slowly, as if tasting them.
"Is it?"
"There's no sign of forced entry. From what we can tell, your daughter let in the assailant voluntarily."
"I thought the security gate was disabled."
"It was, but there was no damage to the door of the unit."
"She wouldn't have opened up for Justin Gray. She'd met him. She knows what he looks like."
"Well, of course, she might have opened without looking through the peephole. Especially if she assumed that only a neighbor could get to the door without being buzzed in at the gate."
"Or this other man might have come back. If he visited her yesterday, why not today?"
"Are you sure it wasn't your ex-husband?"
"The description didn't match. And I don't think it's in character for Dan to do anything like this, or for Meg to see him behind my back."
Gaines grunted, a dubious noise suggesting that human character was not so predictable. "We'll have to check out your ex anyway."
"Do that. He needs to know what happened. But there's something else that occurred to meanother thing we could look into."
"I'm listening."
"You could read her diary." Robin felt cheap and low for suggesting it, but she couldn't worry about Meg's privacy now. "She keeps it in her room. In her bureau. Top drawer, I think."
"We haven't been in there yet."
"I think you'd better find it. If she was amp; involved in anything secretive, she might have mentioned it there."
"I'll do that, Doctor. And I'll have someone contact your ex-husband too. We've got your address book here. His number is in it, I assume."
"Yes. Let me give you a number where I can be reached."
"That's not necessary. You have caller ID. I already jotted down the number you're calling from. It's your cell phone."
"How'd you know that?"
"I had Officer Pierce check it against your phone records. You see, I had to be sure I was really talking to Robin Cameron, not a reporter."
Gaines was thorough. Robin was glad.
"Once I've looked at the diary," he said, "I'll get back to you."
He clicked off. She exhaled a long breath, relieved that he had listened and not merely brushed her off as a hysterical civilian.
There might be nothing in Meg's diary. But she had to be sure.
It was possiblejust barely possiblethat Gray didn't have Meg, after all. In which case the roadblocks in the desert, the alerts issued for a man and a girl together in a stolen Saab, and most of the other measures already taken would be ineffective. Gray wouldn't be replaying his MO, at least not yet, and not with Meg.
Then what would he be doing? Where would he go?
And who had taken her daughter?