“And you are?”
“Fred Owen. Paige’s stepfather.”
“May I come inside?”
“Sure. Of course.” He stepped aside. “What do you know about Paige?”
“Fred, who is it?” A woman wearing jeans and a sweatshirt stained with blue paint rounded the corner. “What’s going on?”
“Texas Rangers, here about Paige.” The man hugged his wife close. “This is my wife, Vivian. Please tell us what you know, Ranger Hayden.”
Inside, Hayden was greeted with the scents of pine cleaner and baking bread. “You a cook, Mrs. Owen?”
“Never much to speak of, but since Paige vanished, I’m cooking her favorites all the time just in case this is the day she comes home.” Vivian scooped up the small dog and then clasped her husband’s hand, her knuckles turning white with tension.
“Smells nice,” he said.
“Just say what you have to say, Ranger Hayden,” Vivian said. “We’ve been expecting a visit like this for months, and now that you’re here, I just want you to spit it out.”
“We have evidence suggesting that Paige has been held captive since she vanished.”
Vivian’s eyes filled with tears, and she nestled close to her husband, who wrapped his arm around her. “How do you know?”
“We believe we found the location where Paige was being kept. But when we searched it, Paige wasn’t there.” He refrained from telling them about the manacle and the blood.
“Why wasn’t Paige there?” Vivian asked.
“For whatever reason, her captor moved her. By what we found, it was fairly recently.”
“What about the baby?” Vivian asked.
“There was no sign that she’s given birth,” Hayden said.
“Where was she held?” Fred asked.
“A remote location in the Hill Country. For now I can’t say exactly where.”
“How did you even know to look in this place?” Fred countered.
“Your daughter’s name came up in another case. Another law enforcement officer was interested in her case.”
“What does he say about all this?” Vivian demanded.
“The officer, a female, passed away before we could ask her.” He hated lying to them about Macy Crow, but until he knew who was behind all this, he would stick to the story.
Vivian drew in a sharp breath, and tears spilled down her cheeks. “What kind of case was she working on?”
“I can’t say.” He chose his words carefully.
Vivian looked up at Fred, shaking her head as more tears fell. “Paige and I had a terrible fight. I was so disappointed when I found out she was pregnant. I yelled and said awful things. She finally lost her temper and left. What I wouldn’t give to take back those words.”
Fred patted his wife’s shoulder. “Paige wasn’t easy on you either. She wasn’t perfect.”
Vivian’s eyes filled with tears and frustration. “But she’s just a kid, and we can’t find her, Fred.”
“I know. The Rangers are getting closer.” He hugged his wife tight as she struggled with the news.
“How long was she gone before you started looking for her?” Hayden asked.
“Two days,” Fred said. “We thought she was at her friend Brittany’s house.”
“Why did you think that?” Hayden asked.
“First I called her cell and she didn’t pick up. She also has the Find My Friends app, and I could see that she was at Brittany’s,” Fred said.
“That made sense because that’s where she always goes,” Vivian said. “Always.”
“What’s Brittany’s last name?” Hayden asked.
“Russo. Brittany Russo.”
Hayden scribbled down the girl’s contact information. “Okay.”
“We’ve told all this to the Austin police. Brittany told the police Paige never contacted her,” Vivian said.
“What happened after you called Brittany?” Hayden asked.
“Brittany said she wasn’t there, so I drove over, thinking she was lying,” Vivian said. “I called the phone and heard it ringing in the bushes. That’s when I really panicked.”
“I started calling all her friends,” Fred said. “No one had seen her, so I contacted the police.”
“She’s a teenager,” Vivian said. “She lived on that phone. She would never have tossed it away like that.”
“Paige can be headstrong, but it’s not like her to ditch her phone and completely ignore her mother,” Fred said.
“What about boyfriends, new friends?” Hayden asked.
“She broke up with her boyfriend last year, before she got pregnant. She said all along the baby wasn’t his, but she never would tell us who the father was. Anyway, we went to see Derek, her ex-boyfriend, and he swore he’d not seen her in months.”
“What’s Derek’s last name?” Hayden asked.
“Smith,” Fred said.
“Did you check her social media accounts?” Hayden asked.
“We did,” Vivian said. “It took me a whole day of trying to figure out her password, but I did. Buddy two thousand. Our dog and the year she was born.”
“What did you find?” Hayden asked.
“Nothing out of the ordinary. The account is still open, and I check it several times a day, thinking she might post something there.” She rattled off the username, which Hayden wrote down. “The account hasn’t been active since the day before she vanished.”
“What about before?”
“It all seemed normal. She wasn’t out partying with friends because she was pregnant, and I think that was frustrating for her. You know how girls like to dress up and pose for the camera.”
“What about friends other than Brittany?” Hayden asked.
“There’s Su Morgan. The two of them liked to go out a lot.” Vivian provided Su’s contact information. “I’ve talked to her every day for the last three months, and she’s heard nothing from Paige.”
“And she never told Brittany or Su the name of the baby’s father?”
“They swear she didn’t,” Vivian said.
“How far along would Paige be now?” Hayden asked.
“Thirty-nine weeks. The baby is due any day.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I have dreamed of the worst possible scenarios, but I never thought in my heart that she might be dead. She’s my baby, and I would know if she was gone.” She closed her eyes and then shoved out a breath. “The last few nights I’ve worried about her giving birth alone. I had to have a C-section when she was born, and if we’d not been in a hospital, one or both of us would have died.”
“All right, ma’am,” Hayden said. “I’ll have a look at your daughter’s social media posts.” He flipped the page in his notebook and then asked, “What about letters or threatening calls? Was anyone harassing her?”
“No.”
“Did she use drugs?” Hayden asked.
“Not that I know of,” Vivian said. “And after she went missing, I tore her room apart. There wasn’t a square inch that I didn’t search. I found condoms but no drugs. She was a good kid, Ranger Hayden. But I think not as grown-up as she believed she was. She was also very naive.”
“Has she had any legal trouble?” Hayden asked.
“A speeding ticket last year, but we had an attorney take care of it.”
“Okay,” Hayden said. “One last question. She ever been to a bar called Second Chances?”
“When I went through her room, I found matches from Second Chances,” Vivian answered. “I even went by the bar and spoke to the owner. He said he hadn’t seen her but put up one of the flyers I gave him. Is the bar related to her case?”
That was an important tidbit Garnet hadn’t mentioned. “I can’t say yet.”
“How does this help with your case?” Fred asked.
“I’ll know better once I meet with local police tomorrow to compare notes.” He especially wanted to know if there’d been other blond, pregnant teen girls who’d vanished. Healthy infants could be s
old for a lot of money.
Vivian gripped his arm. “She’s running out of time, Ranger Hayden.”
“Yes, ma’am, I know. We’re doing our best to find her.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Wednesday, June 27, 7:30 p.m.
A quick search on her phone told Faith the Second Chances bar was on Third Street. It took only minutes to cross town and park near the small place that looked like the typical dive bar. Small windows and a plain front door led to a dimly lit interior that, combined with a collection of round tables made of reclaimed barnwood, fell short of cozy.
All the tables were full, and piped-in country western music added a buoyancy to a room that might not have fared so well in daylight. The woman behind the bar was young, with a shock of red hair pulled back in a ponytail that could not calm the curls. She was smiling as she pulled a draft and then poured a shot of whiskey, all in one fluid motion.
Faith found a spot at the end of the bar. If there was anyone who didn’t look the part of a Second Chances customer, it was her. She settled her purse between her legs and tried to pretend she belonged.
The woman came up to her, wiped the wet bar, and set down a paper napkin. “What can I get you?”
“Bourbon, neat.”
“Ah, the lady knows the wisdom of not ruining a good bourbon with water or soda.”