They Disappeared

Jeff’s breathing quickened.

Was there something he was overlooking, or forgetting?

One by one images from the morning flowed across Cordelli’s monitor—the street, Cole, Sarah—haunting Jeff as he turned back to Ortiz, who went over her notes. She asked a spectrum of questions, probing a little deeper about Sarah, her job, her disposition, family medical conditions and family history. Jeff told her everything but withheld mention of Lee Ann and its toll. It was too painful, entangled with his own guilt, and irrelevant as far as he was concerned.

“What about my wife’s cell phone?” Jeff asked. “I read somewhere that you guys can track cell phones, that there’s technology to pinpoint where people are through their cell phone.”

“Sometimes,” Cordelli said. “May I see your phone?”

Cordelli turned it on, expertly buttoned and scrolled through its menu and functions. “Is your wife’s phone similar?”

“It’s the same.”

“These are older models. The tracking ability you’re talking about is limited on this type.” Cordelli returned Jeff’s phone and went back to studying the photos, adding, “And as for tracking roaming signals, the phone has to be turned on. Even then, we need warrants to get the phone companies to release that information—but we can expedite them.”

“Is there anything else you can do with the phone?”

“We can get a warrant to essentially clone your phone.”

“What does that mean?”

“Any calls, texts, downloads—received or sent—will also come to us, to a special line with the NYPD, without the caller or sender being aware. It’s like a tap. It allows us to be on top of any communication that might come from the bad guys. Say, a ransom call, or if your wife or son got to a phone and called for help. And we’ll work with FBI for warrants on your hotel or home and work phones in Montana, all numbers associated directly with you or your wife, in case any calls go there.”

“I want you to do everything that helps, yes.”

“We want to be prepared,” Cordelli said. “But the bad guys are smart. They toss the victims’ phones. And they use prepaid disposables that are virtually impossible to track.”

Hans Beck.

“Wait. There was a mix-up with Cole’s bag at LaGuardia. I got a call from this guy, Hans Beck. We had his backpack, he had ours and we met near Penn Station late yesterday and traded them.”

“Anything you can remember about him?”

Jeff described Beck and explained how he’d obtained Jeff’s cell phone number. Ortiz made notes.

“He was kind of weird, nervous,” Jeff said. “His number’s on my phone.”

Cordelli displayed the call list.

Jeff pointed to it.

“Did he threaten you, ask for money?” Cordelli asked.

“No.”

“How was he weird?”

“I don’t know—he seemed preoccupied, like something was on his mind. Maybe it was because he was rushed. He said he had to catch a train.”

“Did you see what was in his bag, drugs, anything unusual?”

Jeff shook his head and Cordelli and Ortiz exchanged glances.

“He could’ve targeted your family for a robbery or ransom,” Cordelli said. “Or it could be nothing. We’ll check out the number but it could be a dead end.”

“Well, what about all these police security cameras everywhere? Can’t you use them to find my wife and son?”

“Yes, we can,” Cordelli said.

“Then do it, goddammit! My family’s life is at stake!”

The detectives let a few tense moments pass in silence as Jeff blinked back his fear, frustration and guilt. He shook his head.

“Jeff,” Cordelli started, “you’re upset, we understand. But we have people looking. We are investigating as we speak. But we need to be confident that you’ve given us all the information we need.”

“I’ve told you everything I know.”

Cordelli went back to examining the photos.

“Jeff, is Sarah under a doctor’s care? Does she take any medication?”

“No.”

“Does she use illegal drugs? Maybe gamble?”

“What?”

“We have to ask.”

“No.”

“Does she or Cole spend a lot of time online, chatting with strangers?”

“No.”

“What was your wife’s state of mind just before this happened? How would you characterize her demeanor?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m looking at these pictures of you, of her, and I’ve got to tell you, your smiles look a little forced. I’m getting the feeling that there’s some underlying stress in your family.”

Jeff said nothing.

“Tell us about your family, your marriage. Is it all good out there in Big Sky Country?”

Jeff searched his heart for the answer.

“Who’s this?” Cordelli turned the monitor.