“Why don’t we sit at the kitchen table,” Tom suggested.
“Sounds good,” Rainy said. She followed Tom into the spacious, bright kitchen and took a seat at the rectangular table. Her seat faced the windows, and she could see out into the backyard, with its spacious, well-kept lawn. There were no tents or tarps out back that could conceal a hostage or a body. No storage shed, either, at least from what she could see.
“Can I get you something to drink, Agent Miles?” Tom asked.
“No, thank you,” Rainy said. She would never accept a drink from a suspect, but of course, she wouldn’t tell him that.
Tom sat across from Rainy, Jill in the seat to her right, and Marvin next to Jill.
“Are you sure you want to talk to me?” Rainy asked.
Tom nodded, though he now appeared confused. “Of course we want to talk to you. We invited you here.”
“Of course,” Rainy said. She knew to overdo the questions, to plug any holes Marvin might use to try to demonstrate entrapment. Marvin and Tom seemed to think Rainy was on their side, but she wasn’t sure whose side she was on.
“Let’s start with Lindsey,” Rainy continued. “You said on the phone that she’s missing. Have there been any new developments?”
Tom took hold of Jill’s hand. Jill didn’t pull away. Did she no longer believe Lindsey and her father were having an affair? Rainy wondered if she was partly responsible for that turnaround.
“Nothing has changed,” Tom said. “Lindsey’s mother has filed a missing persons report. I guess notices have been sent to all the New England and New York police departments. If she doesn’t turn up in twenty-four hours, they’ll organize a search.”
“Have the police questioned you in connection to Lindsey’s disappearance?” Rainy asked.
“Not yet,” Marvin answered. “But I’m sure they will.”
“At this point, people usually tell me they didn’t have anything to do with a disappearance,” Rainy replied.
“I didn’t think I had to,” Tom replied.
“Why don’t you tell me how you think this is connected to sexting.”
It took Jill several minutes to tell Rainy everything she knew.
“So, Lindsey told you that she sent pictures of herself to Tanner Farnsworth?”
Jill nodded.
“You found topless pictures of yourself on Mitchell Boyd’s computer?”
Again, Jill nodded. “There were other girls on Mitchell’s computer, too,” Jill added. “Some I knew. Some I didn’t.”
Marvin brought Rainy up to date on Tom’s car accident, careful not to reveal too much privileged information. Tom recounted how he rescued his daughter from Mitchell’s bedroom.
“I’m worried the police are going to focus on my dad,” Jill said. “What if Mitchell Boyd had something to do with Lindsey’s disappearance?”
“Well, I can speak with the Shilo PD and make sure they have all this information,” Rainy said.
“That would be a big help,” said Marvin. “I don’t think anything we have to say will carry much weight with them.”
“Did you tell the police what you told me?” asked Rainy.
“No,” Tom said. “But when you talk to them, you can’t mention that I broke into the house. They can’t know.”
“Why?”
“Because Roland Boyd could use that to press charges against me. If he starts to feel any heat on Mitchell, he could say that he wasn’t aware I’d broken into his home. It would get my bail revoked. Jill would be left vulnerable.”
“I see,” Rainy said. “Well, I can tell them Jill’s side of the story. They need to know where to start looking.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” said Tom.
Marvin appeared satisfied, but Jill looked worried.
“Mitchell won’t do anything with your pictures, Jill,” Tom said. “Not with people watching him now.”
“After I talk to the Shilo PD, I think I’ll take a trip over to Roland Boyd’s house myself,” said Rainy.
“Why?” Tom asked.
“I’d like to see just how cooperative Roland Boyd and his son feel like being with me.”
“That sounds great,” Marvin said. “I’ve got a trip planned for the afternoon myself.”
Tom shot Marvin a surprised look. “Where are you going? I thought you said you had witness depositions for my case this afternoon.”
“I moved them,” Marvin said. “I managed to get a meeting at Cortland & Associates this afternoon.”
“Cortland? What for?” Tom asked.
“Can’t say just yet, but I think these guys do a lot more than help creeps like Frank Dee erase their digital past.”
Chapter 65
Marvin Pressman used the power of intention to create the perfect parking space. As he cruised the one-way streets and maddening intersections of downtown Boston in his pre-owned Subaru Impreza, he softly recited his foolproof space-making mantra. “There’ll be a space in front of the building…. There’ll be a space in front of the building.” Sure enough, as Marvin neared the twelve-story office tower where Cortland & Associates was headquartered, the taillights of a gray sedan flashed, and soon after, the car vacated a metered space five steps from his destination.
Marvin fished two hours’ worth of quarters from an ashtray that had never been blemished by a single ash. He exited the car, fed the meter, and paused to study his reflection in the building’s tall ground-level window.
Hugging his briefcase close to his side, Marvin spun through the revolving glass door and emerged into an air-conditioned marble foyer that spoke of success. He signed in at the security desk, stuck his peel-away name badge to his suit’s breast pocket, and took the elevator to the tenth floor.
Gold-plated letters spelling out CORTLAND & ASSOCIATES filled one black marble wall of the tenth-floor lobby. The double glass doors to Cortland’s offices were locked, and they opened only after Marvin pushed a button on the intercom.
Marvin approached the reception desk. “I have a meeting with Simon Cortland,” he announced to the receptionist.
“Yes, Mr. Pressman. Please have a seat. Mr. Cortland will be with you shortly.”
Marvin sat on one of the stylish black leather chairs in the waiting area. He felt uncomfortably low to the ground.
Simon Cortland soon appeared. He was tall, accentuating Marvin’s low position. Marvin wondered if that was the furniture’s intended purpose. Cortland was dressed splendidly in a dark blue suit, pink shirt, and rich burgundy tie. He looked young, handsome, and rich. Marvin disliked him for those offenses alone.
“Marvin Pressman?”
“Yes,” Marvin said. “Simon Cortland, I presume.”
“Correct. Pleasure to meet you,” Cortland said.
