Last Seen: A gripping edge-of-your-seat thriller that you won’t be able to put down

“You don’t really cover much crime here in River Ridge, or the other ‘safe’ suburbs. You cover the big stuff downtown and across the country?”

“Yes, I work near the Tribune building, and if the story’s big enough, the paper sends me wherever we need to go. Although we don’t travel as much these days—they’ve tightened budgets.”

“In your line of work, you report on a lot of dangerous people, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Your stories helped put a lot of people in prison?”

“I just report the facts.”

“This came up at the news conference, so I want to ask—can you think of anyone in your past who may have threatened you? Anyone who might want to settle a score with you? Or anything you may have done to anger someone to the point that they’d want revenge against you?”

Cal exhaled slowly as his mind raced back over his years and the stories blurred.

“People get pissed off and have said things to me.”

“What sort of things, what people?”

“Usually relatives and friends of suspects, or criminals.”

“And what did they say?”

“‘I’m going to kick your ass, you write bullshit.’ ‘Why didn’t you write the truth about such and such?’ But that’s pretty common. I mean, not everyone’s happy with what you report. But I never took any of it seriously.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s just people blowing steam—people say things. No one’s ever acted on anything.”

“So far.”

“No one so far.”

Price nodded and made notes. “You ever cross the line on your job, Cal?”

“What do you mean?”

“Break the rules, get your story wrong, really piss off a subject or burn a source, that sort of thing?”

“What’re you suggesting?”

“Not suggesting anything. Just want to know if you think there’s anyone out to get you.”

Cal steepled his fingers and touched them to his chin. “We covered this, Detective. Yes, I’ve pissed people off with my work.”

“Who, how?”

“I already told you, some people don’t like it when you write the truth about their situation. But that’s part of my job. If I thought for one second that Gage’s disappearance had any connection to my work, to anything I’d done, I’d be screaming that fact to you.”

Price took a moment to process his response.

“Okay, let’s move on. Your newspaper, the Chicago Star-News, has been bleeding staff in recent years and there’s talk online and in the business pages that more layoffs are coming—that’s got to put a lot of stress on you.”

“It makes you think about what you’re going to do if you lose your job. I’ve been with the Star-News a long time and reporting jobs are pretty hard to come by these days.”

“So there’s some stress in your home?”

“No more than anyone else in this economy.”

“What about you and Faith?”

“What about us?”

“Tell me about your relationship. How did you meet?”

Cal remembered the first time he saw Faith. She was on her phone, upset and in tears. He was immediately infatuated. After approaching her, he’d learned that her boyfriend had broken up with her and he thought, Who’d be stupid enough to break this girl’s heart? So he asked her out and they fell in love.

“We met in college.”

Price smiled. “And Gage is your only child?”

“Well, after Gage, Faith miscarried once and we never had another.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. When was that?”

“Two years after Gage was born.” Cal blinked several times.

Price made a note. “And Faith is with a public relations firm downtown?”

“Yes.”

“How would you describe Faith, Cal—is she calm or a nervous person?”

“She can be both.”

“How would you describe her intelligence?”

“Her intelligence?”

“Yes, is she a genius, a linear thinker, slow to grasp things?”

“No, she’s very intelligent, way smarter than me, graduated near the top of her class. She was in Mensa for a while.”

“Mensa? Really?” Price made notes. “Is she generally liked by others?”

“Yes.”

“Is she religious, devout?”