Deadly Dance Page 4

  “Or the boyfriend,” Hannah agreed. “I can talk to Tina.”

  “I was actually thinking you and Harrison could handle all the interviews since you’re already running point on this. And to be honest, the two of you are more likely to get them to be honest with you. Being called before the dean of students tends to be off-putting.”

  “Especially when said dean is you.” Harrison laughed, and then sobered as he adjusted the settings on his computer.

  “I assume you’re running some kind of diagnostics program,” Avery said. “Any way to use it to ID the girl in the footage?”

  “Not definitively, no.” Harrison shook his head, entering something into the computer. “Basically the computer will use the algorithms in the program to try and fill in the details in the scene that are obliterated by the shadows, including the woman’s face. It’ll just be conjecture, of course, based on calculations the computer makes, but it might move us a step closer to figuring out if the woman in the video is in fact Sara Lauter. Sort of like an electronic sketch artist.”

  “So it’s working now, right?” Hannah asked, pointing up at the screen.

  “Yeah. It’s filling in details. You can already see that the perimeter of the frame is coming into clearer focus.”

  “Over there in the corner, by the bed,” Hannah said, squinting now as she studied the screen. “It looks like there’s a chair. Can you freeze it and enlarge that area?”

  “Sure,” Harrison said, his gaze following hers as he moused over to the area in question, stopping the video as he enlarged the frame. “Holy shit,” he whispered, as the object on the chair became clear.

  The T-shirt was torn, almost shredded, but the insignia was still clear. The orange imprint bold against the black shirt. Harrison maneuvered the computer, pulling the image into sharper focus. The words printed on the shirt jumped off the screen—“Property of Sunderland College.”

  “Thanks for agreeing to see us,” Hannah said, smiling as the young man took a seat across from Harrison in the Fischer Building’s conference room. Tony Marcuso had the look of a typical college student—sweatshirt, jeans, overstuffed backpack. Although now that she thought about it, that pretty much described her most days as well.

  She and Harrison had spent another hour or so going over the video, trying to find something in it that might lead to a location, or maybe an identification. Harrison’s program had made the images clearer, but even though there were certain features that Sara and the woman in the video had in common, it was far from conclusive.

  “Have you found Sara?” Tony asked, his face tightening with worry.

  “I’m sorry,” Harrison said, his voice kind. “We haven’t. But we do have a few more questions for you. Nine times out of ten when someone goes missing like this, there’s a reasonable explanation. Were you and Sara having any problems? An argument maybe?”

  “No way,” he shook his head. “I swear. Everything was great. We haven’t really been dating that long, but our connection was pretty intense, if that makes sense. It’s just kind of like I knew she was the one. And I think she feels the same way about me.” Doubt chased across his face, competing with the worry, but Hannah had the feeling he meant everything he was saying.

  “So you can’t think of any reason why she might have run off?” Hannah probed. They’d already talked with Tina, trying to make some sense of her role in all of this. But nothing had come of that conversation either. Tina didn’t even know Sara. So if there was a connection between the two women, it was clearly obscure.

  “None at all,” Tony said. “She was fine at the library. She only left because she had an early class and wanted to get some sleep. We agreed to meet for breakfast and that was the last… I saw of her.” His voice cracked on the last few words, emotion clearly getting the best of him.

  “What was her cellphone number?” Harrison asked, typing something into his computer. “We might be able to trace her through phone activity.”

  “It’s 555-867-5209,” he said, “but it won’t do you any good. She lost it last week. She didn’t want to tell her father. So she’s been doing without. Oh, God, I need to call her parents.”

  “Why don’t you let us handle that, Tony.” Hannah reached across the table to cover the boy’s hand with hers. “We need to be sure that we have all the facts before we contact them. There’s no point in scaring them needlessly.”

  “But I’m telling you, Sara wouldn’t just disappear like this. She’s not like that.”

  “Well, until we have evidence to the contrary,” she sucked in a breath, exchanging a glance with Harrison, “I have to assume otherwise. It’s like we said, nine times out of ten—”

  “I know. I heard you the first time. But there’s no way she just ran off.”

  “What about her roommate? Maybe she went somewhere with her?”

  “No way, she’d never go anywhere with Stephanie.”

  “Are you saying they didn’t get along?” Harrison pushed back from his computer, eyeing the boy over the top of it.

  “That’d be an understatement,” he sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. “The two of them were a mismatch from the beginning. The only reason Sara was rooming with her was because she didn’t want to pay for a single.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m not following,” Hannah said, looking down at the papers she had in front of her. “According to my notes, Sara requested Stephanie.”

  “Yeah, but it was because Stephanie had been through a rough time. You remember the girl killed in the car wreck last year?”

  “Donna something,” Hannah frowned.

  “Right. Donna Mayer. Well, Stephanie was her roommate. And it was really tough on her. So Sara moved in with her for the last couple of months. She was just being nice. And then when Stephanie asked her to room with her this year, Sara couldn’t say no. But Stephanie’s not the easiest person to be around.” He shrugged, looking apologetic. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with her. Just that she and Sara aren’t a good fit. And they’re certainly not friends.”

  “So there’s no chance she’d have gone off with her on some kind of road trip,” Harrison concluded.

  “None at all.”

  “So is there any chance Stephanie could have done something to Sara?” Harrison asked. “Were their problems big enough to have caused that kind of over-reaction?”

  “No,” Tony shook his head. “Stephanie’s a little weird, but she’s nothing like that. I mean, the worst thing she’s ever done is unplug the clock so that the alarm doesn’t go off. She’s not a morning person, and Sara is.” Despite the seriousness of the situation, he smiled. “Sara’s one of those people who wakes up happy. Stephanie can’t even function without a couple cups of coffee. So like I said, they just don’t mesh. But Sara manages. Mainly by spending most of her time away from the room. With me. Or in the library. It’s just easier that way.”

  “Okay, so how about we look at this from another angle,” Hannah said. “Has Sara said or done anything to make you think she was unhappy? Or maybe had a problem with someone else. Someone you haven’t mentioned.”

  He paused for a minute, clearly considering the question. Harrison was back to typing.

  “I can’t think of anyone. I wish I could. I just know something’s really wrong, or I’d have heard from her. Phone or no phone. She’s not thoughtless like that. That’s why I love her.” His eyes widened with the declaration. “Wow. I can’t believe I said it out loud. But I do love her, you know? And I need for you to believe that she wouldn’t just disappear like this. Something’s really wrong. I know it.”

  Harrison paused for a moment, then clearly making a decision, turned his computer around. “Does anything about this place look familiar?” The still was from the video, but there was no sign of the girl on the bed or her tormentor.

  Tony leaned forward, squinting as he studied the picture. “I don’t think so. Should it be?”

  “No.” Harrison shook his head. “
I was just hoping maybe it had some significance.”

  “You think Sara’s there?” He nodded toward the screen. “Why would you think that?”

  Harrison turned to Hannah, and she nodded. There was a risk in showing him, but everything in her gut told her that whatever the hell was going on, Tony wasn’t involved in Sara’s disappearance. Harrison hit a key and the picture dissolved into another. This time featuring the woman on the bed.

  “Oh, my God,” Tony gasped, pain lacing through his voice, “is that Sara?”

  “You tell me,” Harrison said.

  Hannah reached out to squeeze the boy’s shoulder, offering what comfort she could. “I know this is hard, but you know her better than anyone.”

  Tony studied the still for another minute or so and then shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t tell. It’s too grainy. The hair is right. And maybe the height. But I honestly can’t say for sure.” He clenched a fist, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “What the hell is this? Where did it come from?”

  “It’s a video that we found on the web,” Harrison said, improvising a little bit. “We’re not even sure it’s depicting something real. But in light of Sara’s disappearance, we have to consider the option that this could be her.”

  “Can you tell me what she was wearing the night she disappeared?” Hannah asked gently as Harrison turned the computer back around.

  Tony was still staring at the back of the computer, the image clearly burned into his brain. For a moment, she thought he hadn’t heard her, then he turned, his shoulders straightening as he pulled it together. “She was wearing jeans. The kind that come already torn. She thought they were really cool. And a jacket. You know, like photo-journalists wear.”

  “A flak jacket?” Hannah prompted.

  “No, more like the kind with lots of pockets. Like in Africa.”

  “A safari jacket,” Hannah nodded as Harrison typed. “What color?”

  “Greenish. Um… khaki, I guess.”

  “And underneath the jacket?”

  He shook his head, rubbing his forehead. “Gosh, I feel like such a jerk, but I can’t remember. I should know what she was wearing.”

  “Just take a deep breath and think. You’re dealing with a lot right now.” Hannah shot a glance at Harrison, who was watching Tony, his eyes full of sympathy.

  Tony nodded and closed his eyes, his forehead wrinkling as he concentrated. “No. I’m sorry. I just don’t remember. Just the jacket.” Tony’s face turned ashen. “Oh, my God. The woman you showed me—was she wearing a jacket like Sara’s?”

  “No,” Harrison said, trying to reassure the kid. There was no point in scaring him any more than necessary. At least not until they’d found something solid. “It’ll just help us to find her if we know what she was wearing.”

  “So you believe what I’m telling you? That Sara wouldn’t just leave without letting me know.”

  “We’re treating this very seriously, Tony. And I promise you, if we find anything concrete, you’ll be the first to know. But in the meantime, you need to keep quiet about this. If something has happened to Sara, the worst thing that can happen is for the news to get out before we understand what we’re dealing with. Do you understand?”

  He nodded, emotions playing across his face. “I just need you to find her. Before something awful happens.” His eyes strayed to the computer again. “The woman in the pictures—she’s in real trouble. And if there’s any chance that could be Sara…”

  “We’re going to find her,” Hannah said, even as Harrison signaled her to be quiet. She knew it wasn’t professional. That it was an empty promise. But she couldn’t help but respond to the pain in Tony’s eyes. One thing was definitely clear—he loved Sara. And Hannah just wanted to give him something to hold on to.

  CHAPTER 4

  It seems like every time I move a step forward I wind up hitting a brick wall.” Harrison pushed away from his computer with a sigh.

  They’d adjourned to Hannah’s house after their meetings with Tina and Tony, the goal to try to trace the video to its source and/or to figure out where the hell it had been shot. But so far, no luck; every lead had fizzled. Whoever was pulling the strings was good at hiding their tracks.

  “Sounds to me like you’re mixing your metaphors,” Hannah said. “Besides, I’ve heard you say a thousand times that this kind of thing takes time.”

  “True enough,” he agreed, looking at her over the top of his computer. It was amazing how easy it was to be with Hannah. He hadn’t really had a friend like her since Madison.

  Of course, he and Madison were still friends. Hell, he was probably officially still a member of Last Chance. But for now at least, it suited him better to stick with A-Tac. Besides, Madison had Gabriel. And no matter how close they’d been, husband trumped best friend every time. Especially when said friend was a male.

  He shook his head and glanced over at the clock on the mantel and wished he hadn’t. It was almost midnight. “Problem is,” he said, pulling his attention away from the past to the matter at hand, “we don’t have time. Not if that girl is really in trouble. You know as well as I do that the first twenty-four hours are crucial.”

  “I do. And it makes me sick to think what might be happening to her. But we can’t force the answers. So maybe what we need is a break.” She pushed up from the chair at the table where she’d been working. “That way we’ll be able to come back at it with fresh eyes. I could make us some coffee.”

  “Actually I could use a beer.” Hannah had a weakness for English bitter and usually had a well-stocked refrigerator. “Any chance of a choice brew?”

  “Absolutely. Owen just brought me some Samuel Smith,” she said, already heading for the kitchen. Owen, an Englishman, was Tyler’s husband. He was currently working with Homeland Security, but he still made the occasional trip back to the home country, and Harrison knew that Hannah had a standing order for beer.

  Harrison followed, allowing his gaze to wander around the room. Like Hannah herself, the house was unique. Full of offbeat artwork and bright colors, it felt homey but still somehow empty. There were no photographs or personal memorabilia. Nothing that gave any hint of Hannah’s life before A-Tac.

  Although it wasn’t unusual for people in their line of work to come from places they’d just as soon forget, he still found himself curious about Hannah’s life. Crazy thought. Probably stemmed from their close call the other night. Almost dying had a way of bringing people together.

  Or maybe it was the outfit. That skirt had been mouthwateringly short and tight. And although he wasn’t interested in relationships, he wasn’t a eunuch either, and even in light of their dire circumstances—or maybe because of them—Hannah had looked pretty damn fine.

  “You want it in a glass?” Hannah asked, rear end sticking out from behind the refrigerator door. “The only downside to having English beer delivered is that it has to come in a bottle.” She straightened up, two bottles in hand, as he perched himself on a barstool at the breakfast counter. “So? Bottle or glass?”

  “I know it’s very pedestrian, but I grew up drinking Lone Star in a bottle.”

  “Bottle it is.” She removed the top and handed it to him. “And just for the record, I like Texas beers. Particularly Shiner Bock.”

  “Ah, a girl with an open mind. I like that. So when were you in Texas?” The question was an honest one, but he found himself hoping for something to fill in the blanks of her past.

  “We worked an operation with DEA a few years back. Trying to stop a Mexican drug cartel. We were based in Laredo.” She hopped up onto the counter opposite him and took a long swig of beer.

  “Not a hell of a lot else to do in Laredo except drink.”

  “Yeah, and I learned pretty fast that tequila wasn’t the best choice. That stuff has a wicked kick.”

  “And usually about two beats after you’ve decided it won’t affect you.” He laughed, memories stirring.

  “Sounds like you have personal e
xperience with the stuff.” Hannah tipped her head to the side, eyeing him through blue-rimmed glasses, the kitchen light playing on the magenta streaks in her hair.

  “Not in a really long time. But when I was in college, I had a bad night. Some buddies and I decided to throw a party. And stupidly, I volunteered to play bartender. Rule was that every time someone had a shot, I had to have a shot, too. You can just imagine.”

  “Oh, God, makes me sick just thinking about it. I take it you took your duties seriously.” She smiled, suppressing a laugh.

  “Very seriously. And of course, as we just said, the most deadly thing about tequila is that it doesn’t hit you right away. So when a bunch of us decided to go see a movie, I was more than game. Apocalypse Now was showing at the student union on campus. Part of some seventies film festival. So we went.”

  “Uh oh.”

  “Got it in one,” he smiled, remembering. “We went into the theater, and I remember the opening. You know the fan blades going around above Martin Sheen’s head, the sound swelling.”

  “Yeah.” She nodded, sipping from her bottle. “It turns into the sound of a hovering helicopter, right?”

  “Exactly. Anyway, the motion made me sort of sick so I made my way to the bathroom, and next thing I know, I’m waking up over the toilet bowl, and the credits of the movie are rolling.”

  “Oh, my God.” She was laughing out loud now. “It’s a three-hour movie.”

  “Suffice it to say, I haven’t had tequila since. Just thinking of it gives me the shudders. And Bree was really pissed because she had to leave her friends and take me home.”

  “Bree?” Hannah queried, her fingers picking at the label on the bottle.

  “My sister,” Harrison said, just the mention of her name sobering him. “She was at the movie, too. Saw me and my condition and swooped in to take me back to my dorm room. Probably a good thing in hindsight as I was still pretty drunk, even after crashing in the john. But I didn’t think so at the time, which made it that much more difficult for her. Anyway, point is, I learned my lesson when it comes to tequila.” He kept his voice light, praying that she wouldn’t probe any further about his sister. It was just easier to keep the past separate from his life now.