“Anything come into your mind since I was here last?”
“No. Nothing. Like I said, I just saw the guy get in the van. He was dressed in dark clothing. I never saw his face or anything. It happened really fast.”
Lich showed him a picture of Jamie Jones. “Ever see her around here?”
Blomberg shook his head. “No. Not that I recall.”
They ran through it again, but Blomberg simply had nothing more to give. The detectives turned to leave when Mac’s cell went off.
Alt saw McRyan come out of the apartment building, talking on his cell phone.
“They didn’t spend much time inside,” Bouchard remarked.
Before Alt could respond, his phone chimed, it was Hansen. “Yeah?”
“We have a problem.”
* * * * *
Mac and Lich pulled up in front of Hernandez’s apartment building. Riley and Rock were standing in the entryway with another man. “He’s gone?” Mac asked.
“Yeah,” replied Riley. “This is the apartment manager, John Higgins.”
“When did he leave?”
“Three weeks ago,” Higgins replied.
“What about his lease? Didn’t he have a one-year lease?” Mac asked.
“Normally he would, but he offered to pay two-months worth up front and then was willing to live month to month. Anyone I would find to take a one-year lease probably wouldn’t take possession for a month or two anyway, so it seemed like a good deal to me. Guy kept to himself, caused no problems.”
“Did he tell you where he was going?” Lich asked.
“No. Never heard from him personally. Just found the keys in my mailbox one day. No note or anything.”
“Have you rented the unit out as of yet?”
“As of the first-of-the-year I have. Right now I have his stuff boxed up in case he calls for it.”
They went up to the unit and looked around. It had been sparsely furnished to begin with and now there were just a few boxes lying in the middle of the floor. There were some clothes, a few dishes, and some papers.
Mac looked back at Higgins. “No forwarding address?”
“No. Like I said. One day he was here, the next he was gone. Didn’t say good-bye or anything.”
“Anyone come looking for him?” Riley asked.
“Nobody that I know of.”
“Was he friendly with any of the other tenants?”
“I don’t think so.”
“And he paid the two months in full up front?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Cash.”
“As in check?” Mac asked.
“Nope. Cash.”
“Mr. Higgins, didn’t that strike you as odd?” Mac asked, since it certainly struck him as odd.
“A little perhaps.” Higgins shrugged, tilted his head and lazily raised his eyebrows. “Guy offers cash, wants two months. What’s the big deal?”
Mac snorted and shook his head.
They looked through the boxes. They found nothing to give them a hint of where he went. The only paper of any use was a check stub from Dynastar, his employer.
“Cut him loose a little early I guess,” Alt remarked.
“Where did he go?” Bouchard asked.
“Far away, and they won’t find him. He’s not in the country. He’s not living under the name of Juan Hernandez. He won’t be found unless we need him to be found.”
“Don’t you think it’ll look odd that he bailed?”
“A little. They might even suspect we did it. And of course, they’d be right,” Alt said lightly shaking his head, a bit perturbed. All things being equal, he thought, this was a hiccup he would have preferred to avoid. Hernandez’s disappearance only served to heighten their suspicion. Of course, had the police bothered to remain in touch with Hernandez, Alt would have kept him around. Once they killed the senator, the Daniels case was over. Once he was certain of that, he cut Hernandez loose. Alt lightly sighed, shook his head and said, “They won’t be able to find him.”
“Nothing to worry about?” Bouchard asked.
“I don’t think so.”
Mac and Lich went over to Dynastar and spoke with the Human Resources manager. Hernandez left without notice and hadn’t picked up his last paycheck. He had left no forwarding address for sending the check, and they hadn’t heard from him. When hired, he’d completed a W-4 and immigration I-9 Form. For the I-9, he provided a Minnesota driver’s license and Social Security card to verify identity and ability to work in the United States. Dynastar did not make copies of the documents, although some employers did, even though it wasn’t technically required. Lich called the license and Social Security number information to Riley and Rock, so they could check it downtown.
Mac and Lich interviewed people in the production area that worked with Hernandez. He wasn’t at Dynastar long. He had been pleasant enough but kept to himself. He didn’t mention where he was going and everyone was surprised when he just stopped showing up for work.
It was dark as they walked out of Dynastar, having found nothing helpful about Hernandez. Riley called. While there were plenty of Juan Hernandezes, they couldn’t find any with the Minnesota driver’s license and Social Security numbers this Juan gave to Dynastar.
At the Pub, Sally joined them, and they went down to Patrick’s Room.
“Not much today,” Rock said.
“Hernandez is missing. That’s something.” Lich replied.
“Guy was probably an illegal. People get a fake driver’s license or state ID card, along with false Social Security number and work as long as they can. If the employer sniffs something is up, they bail and go to the next unsuspecting employer,” Sally said. “I have some friends who do employment law and they said their clients run into this all the time.”
“His absence seems awfully convenient,” Mac replied, not buying it.
“You suggesting PTA had something to do with it?” Riles asked, a smile on his face.
“Hell if I know,” Mac replied. “It seems as if he skipped town after it became clear that the Daniels investigation was over.”
“It is convenient,” Riles said agreeably. “But that’s about it. If PTA did take care of him, he’s either dead or paid off, drinking an umbrella drink in a foreign land.”
“So what’s next?” Sally asked.
“Tomorrow we go over to the Jones place,” Mac said. “See what we find there.”
“And what if we don’t find anything?” Rock asked.
“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it,” Mac replied.
