Disappeared by J. T. Brannan

Author:J. T. Brannan [Brannan, J. T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grey Arrow Publishing
Published: 2019-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

I have the air con blasting out at me as I negotiate my way along San Vicente, as I head toward Morgan Design Architects on Seventh.

I’d thought that my meeting with Claire Morgan might help me make a decision on whether Parks is right to like the parents as the prime suspects. The trouble is, I’m still not sure.

Yes, she is a cold woman, her face a mask, her emotions well hidden. But what does that mean, exactly? I don’t know.

I’ve called Jarvis and Crease though, added to their workload by asking them to track down details about the Houston kids. I told them all about the meeting with Claire Morgan – how nobody checked on the rooms for the entire night, how the boys had been nearby, unattended, how Harry Houston had gone to bed right around the time that the car was heard. They said they think I’ve started to like the Houstons for this, and I’m not sure if I disagree with them. I do like them for it – the kids or the father, or maybe the whole lot of them, together? Who knows, stranger things have happened. But I’m also acutely aware of how clever Claire Morgan is, and how she might have subtly manipulated me into thinking this way.

Jarvis had told me that he’s got the sheriff’s files, and Crease mentioned that she might have a lead on Clyde Horwood, which was encouraging. I’d also been booked into see someone at NCMEC that afternoon, which might prove useful.

I’m on Seventh now, and drive past the building that houses Morgan Design. It’s a modern glass and steel edifice, and the architects’ offices are on the fourth floor. This whole area is littered with similar places, over a dozen architectural firms having their headquarters within a few blocks. Morgan Design is one of the best though, and charges the highest prices.

I manage to park my car in a vacant spot, and get out to feed the meter. It might be a short visit though, if what Claire said was true.

I cross the street and walk through into the lobby. It’s clean, well-lit and shiny, just as you’d expect, and there’s a security guard there, seated behind a bright white reception desk.

“Can I help you?” he asks, and I glance at the names of the businesses here that are listed on a plaque on the wall, selecting one at random.

“I’m looking for Virgil, Walker and Associates,” I say, choosing one of the four lawyers’ offices that are based here.

“Second floor,” he tells me, “get out of the elevator and follow the hall down to the right. Can’t miss it.”

“Thanks,” I say, and head for the elevator.

It would have been easier to do without the deception, but I don’t know if the guard’s been warned about me, and I don’t want to be ejected before I’ve even made it past reception.

The elevator opens and I enter, pressing the button for the second floor. There are lights above it

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