The Truant Officer (8 page)

The camera zeroed in on two framed photos that Darren held up for the world to see. Eicher winced at the happy wedding photo. He could almost picture a Sarvydas bull’s-eye on the bride. The other photo was a vacation shot. Once again, they looked happy. Of course, so did Eicher and his wife at one time.

Darren’s voice cracked again as he spoke, “Lilly is five-foot-four with dark hair and brown eyes and was last seen in a silver Lexus SUV. She teaches English at South Chandler High. We have been married for four-and-a-half years and hope to start a family some day. If you have seen her, or even think you might have, please, I beg you, please call the number listed on the screen below. Your call will be anonymous.”

“Lilly is my life…” he continued, before breaking down, blubbering his words as tears streamed down his face.

While it seemed sincere to Eicher, he doubted it would have a happy ending, no matter how it turned out.

As McLaughlin wiped his tears and tried to gather himself, Jessi jolted him, “That is a great story, Mr. McLaughlin, and your tears are impressive, but as a journalist I can’t ignore the facts.

“My sources have told me that your wife’s abduction was not gang-related, as previously reported. All indications are that it was an elaborate copycat crime, and the police believe the motive is related to a domestic issue between you and your wife. And the timing is suspicious, with you conveniently being out of town, perhaps trying to establish an alibi.”

By the husband’s unnerved look, Eicher was pretty sure she was improvising. He doubted McLaughlin would have agreed to go on television to be accused of kidnapping, murder, or whatever exactly she was accusing him of.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I was out of town because I am a pilot—it’s my job. I would never harm Lilly. I just want her back!”

Jessi continued on, unabashed, “But you haven’t been completely honest with me. You told me earlier that the police suspected one of your wife’s students as being the man in the video, but you withheld the fact that there is indeed a lead suspect. Did you withhold this because it would connect you to the kidnapper?”

“Of course not, the police warned me that Lilly could be in even more serious danger if her captor felt trapped, and I shouldn’t reveal his identity.”

“If publicity really would put your wife in dire circumstances, then why did you agree to do this interview?”

“Because you told me you thought it would help Lilly.”

“While it’s very trendy to blame the media, Mr. McLaughlin, was I not completely straight with you prior, when I expressed my suspicion of your possible involvement in this crime?”

McLaughlin said nothing, which made him look guilty. Eicher figured he was probably just guilty of having poor taste in reporters, and seemingly in women in general.

“I think it’s time to stop the lies and withholding of information.”

He stared ahead in a trance, unresponsive.

“The only way to set Lilly free is by telling the truth, so I am now going to reveal the identity of her abductor.”

“Please no, please no,” Eicher began mumbling over and over.

“It could put Lilly’s life in danger,” Darren desperately tried to stop her.

She didn’t appear to be listening. She held up an odd-shaped photograph trimmed with scissors.

When Eicher saw who it was of, he bent over in pain. Jessi smiled proudly onscreen. Maybe it was the glare of the sun, but it was one of the most beautiful smiles Eicher had ever seen. She was like the angel of death.

“This is Brett Buckley, a seventeen-year-old student at South Chandler High, and not surprisingly a student in Lilly McLaughlin’s class. I have confirmed that he was the one who drove off with your wife, but I suspect you already know this.”

Darren’s tears turned to anger. “If anything happens to Lilly, I will personally hold you responsible.”

“Brett Buckley is the name the police and FBI gave you as the name of their lead suspect, isn’t it?” Jessi pushed on.

“I never told you any name.”

“If you must know how I discovered his identity—I did a search of your room and found a picture of your wife’s tutoring group. While you were in the living room preparing your story for the interview, I made a quick call to the school to see which of her students called in absent today, and the only one was Brett Buckley. I searched the yearbook I found on Lilly’s dresser, and Buckley wasn’t in it. So I matched the other kids in the tutoring photo to their yearbook pictures, and by process of elimination I discovered which one was Brett Buckley. I took the liberty of cutting the other students out to protect their identities.” The proud smile grew wider.

Eicher felt like he needed to sit down, but discerned that he already was, so he stood. Nick’s picture was now splashed on the screen for the entire world to see, including Viktor Sarvydas. She had exposed his Brett Buckley alias and placed him in Arizona, not to mention, ID’ing their vehicle and providing a full bio on his traveling companion.

Jessi’s satisfied look told Eicher that she likely didn’t understand what she’d done. Darren didn’t look like he understood the full ramifications either, but he seemed to realize that Jessi had just put his wife in greater danger.

That was, if Lilly McLaughlin wasn’t the one inflicting the harm on Nick. Her sudden presence in Nick’s life was still gnawing at Eicher. He mocked Fitzpatrick’s famous last words:
We have it all under control. The teacher won’t be a problem.

Dava patted Eicher on his slumping shoulder. “We’ll get him back,” she said, as if Nick was their child, and not a witness they failed to protect. “He’s a levelheaded kid. There must have been a perfectly good reason for him to leave, and now he has an even better reason to let us know where he is, so we can pick him up.”

“We can’t wait for him to call,” Eicher declared, thinking of the gruesome package he received this morning from Ivan. He turned to the eternal optimist, hoping for some positive reinforcement. “Any glass half full ideas, or at least can you get me a glass half full with a stiff drink?”

“Lilly McLaughlin is originally from Mexico, so a run to the border would make sense. She probably has contacts or extended family there that she thinks can hide her out. It’s been like eight hours, they might already be there.”

“They’re not in Mexico.”

“How can you be sure? It makes complete sense.”

“That’s exactly why—because nothing in this case makes sense.”

Chapter 16

Lilly McLaughlin’s head pounded against the wall. She saw stars, although at this point, she really wasn’t sure what she was seeing. All she knew is that she never felt anything like this.

She moved away from him, but he stalked her, waiting to make his move. And he had that intense look in his eyes—the one that told her she could do nothing to stop this. He came up against her again, and she could feel his hot breath on her neck.

She let out a desperate yelp and slithered away. She took three sprinter steps across the room, but he caught her by the hair and threw her naked body onto the bed.

He grabbed her by the feet and yanked her to the edge of the bed. He then split her legs like he was breaking a wishbone.

She shut her eyes as he climbed on top of her and began thrusting like a wild animal. She couldn’t believe this was happening.
It shouldn’t be happening,
she thought.

When his energy vanished, he fell on top of her breathless body. Lilly held him as close to her as she could. She couldn’t imagine something so wrong could ever feel so right. It had been this way ever since that first dangerous kiss in her classroom.

They’d checked into the Mirage at around three in the morning. Only in Vegas would their entrance not even stir a suspicion. Once in their room, they’d spent the rest of the night making love like there was no tomorrow. Knowing that if they were caught, there might not be.

“You were amazing,
Mrs. McLaughlin
,” he exclaimed.

“I’ll do anything for my favorite student,
Brett Buckley
,” she purred back at him. “I give you an ‘A’ for your performance.”

The role-playing was a staple of their brief relationship—the innocent student being seduced by his experienced teacher. Playing a role made it easier for Lilly to delude herself. Nobody was innocent in this scenario and the payment for their actions was almost due. She really did love Darren and the suburban fantasy they lived. But that was part of the problem—it was just that, a fantasy.

She was born to father who was a lieutenant in a Mexican drug cartel. Following her father’s murder by a rival cartel, her mother took Lilly and her brothers to the United States. They found refuge, but no relief from danger, as her brothers became heavily involved in gangs in South Phoenix. Lilly always fought against this life, seeking to put herself through school to become a teacher, and eventually finding her prince who would build her a white picket fence.
The American Dream
. But she was inherently attracted to danger and chaos—a life that never had a happy ending. She had tried to run from it, but when Brett Buckley walked into her classroom, she realized it had come for her like the Grim Reaper.

Despite the instant attraction, Lilly had no plans to cheat on Darren—
with a student no less!
She wanted no part of hurting a man who loved her like no one ever had. But Lilly underestimated the pull of the danger. And she made the mistake of keeping it close by, building an intense teacher/student relationship with Brett. It was the equivalent of a recovering alcoholic spending time in bars—eventually the temptation will win. She wondered now if maybe that’s what she wanted all along.

From the first time she met Brett, Lilly could tell he was pained by something—something dark—and she could relate. They formed a bond, to the point that he entrusted her with his dangerous secret. A secret that changed everything.

His real name was Nick Zellen and he was from New York. His life was changed dramatically when he witnessed his father’s murder, and was forced into the Witness Protection Program.

She understood how it felt to have a parent murdered—the intense pain of loss. And Nick’s confession removed the imaginary hurdle that Lilly had put between them. He wasn’t an underage high school student—Nick Zellen was a twenty-four-year-old NYU law student. It might still be immoral, but it was no longer illegal.

She told herself that their kiss was a one-time thing, but she couldn’t stop, and kept pushing the stakes higher. It all came to a head last week when she showed up at a post prom party on a jealous rampage and they put on a public display in front of many of her students.

She had pushed the danger too far, and rumors started flying like wildfire through the halls of South Chandler High. When her boss grilled her, Lilly admitted she used bad judgment in attending the party, but denied any inappropriate behavior with a student.

The police weren’t so understanding. When pictures taken from camera phones started showing up on Facebook
pages, they had their evidence—a lot of it—and Lilly’s arrest was imminent on charges of statutory rape and the endangerment of a minor. The FBI saved the day, not allowing an arrest to happen and risk exposing Nick’s secret identity. They forced the local police to initially back off, without explanation. The plan was to move Nick into protective custody at an undisclosed location until the trial.

But Nick didn’t trust them, believing someone in the US Attorney’s Office was leaking information to those who were after him. If so, he was a dead man. These people had already killed his parents and girlfriend, and with the trial only a week away, they were probably more desperate than ever. Lilly knew that both their lives in Chandler were over, whether it be by an arrest or a bullet. So they ran. Lilly came up with the plan to make it look like the gang violence that had been prevalent in the area.

Lilly also had another reason for leaving—a more selfish one. It was that she couldn’t stand the thought of being separated from Nick.

Nick seemed ready for another go at it, but there was no time to lose. After taking a quick shower, Lilly towel-dried her wet hair and slipped back into her dress. She then sat on the bed, strapped on a pair of heels, and clicked on the television.

Darren was on the television begging someone to find his “abducted” wife. He looked so tired and she wanted to make it all right for him. She wished she could love him like he loved her.

Nick stepped out of the bathroom, wearing one of Darren’s suits that Lilly took from his closet in preparation for their escape. Darren was taller, but they had similar builds, and the suit fit nicely. Nick’s thick, dark hair was post-shower slicked back. His features were dark, much like pictures she’d seen of his Ukrainian born father. But he had intense blue eyes from his blonde-haired, blue-eyed mother. The eyes got Lilly every time.

He clicked off the television in the middle of the interview, and wrapped her in an embrace.

“Darren is a good man—the last thing I wanted was for him to get hurt,” she said.

He pulled her tighter. “It’s not your fault that we fell in love.”

“I made a big mistake. I should have never let it get this far.”

“We try to control things, but in the end you can’t protect those you love. All you can do is follow your heart.”

She nodded that she understood, the pain once again bonding them. Then like a junkie who continued to hurt whoever was in the way of the next fix, the craving for danger overtook her. She needed to up the ante. And nothing would be more dangerous right now than for the two of them to be seen in public.

She helped Nick to his feet and meticulously tied the silk tie she’d bought for Darren last Christmas. “Let’s go to the casino,” she said.

Nick looked shocked. “The casino is loaded with cameras.”

Lilly ran her hand down the length of the tie, pressing against his chest, and then kissed him. “If we’re going to be on the run, then we’re going to need money.”