Pretty Girls Dancing(9)



“We have no evidence to suggest foul play at this time.” Craw raised his hands to halt the frenzy of voices before continuing. “All signs point to the girl leaving her home willingly. At seven forty-five Saturday morning, Mrs. DeVries woke up after tending to her ill son all night. She went to her daughter’s room to check on her. The inside screen on the girl’s bedroom window had been removed, and the window was open. She immediately woke her husband, a deputy with the local sheriff’s office, who commenced searching for her. Mrs. DeVries stayed home with her son, who was still sick.”

The reporters had quieted, all furiously scribbling. Mark figured they realized that further interruptions at this point were useless.

“Deputy DeVries alerted the police and spent the next few hours contacting several of Whitney’s friends from school, none of whom admitted knowledge to her whereabouts,” Craw continued. He was consulting no notes. The man’s memory for detail was uncanny. “At two o’clock p.m., a canine unit was brought in from Cleveland. The dog followed the girl’s scent to the Saxon Falls City Park, where it ended. That indicates to us that she may have gotten into a vehicle with someone. That’s a lead we’re actively investigating.”

Mark caught a glimpse of Shannon and Brian DeVries at the back of the crowd and mentally cursed. He’d specifically advised the parents against attending the press conference, as their presence was guaranteed to turn the event into a media free-for-all. He caught Chief Masterson’s eye across the dais, and the man’s brow furrowed. He’d seen them, too. All they could do now was brace themselves for the fallout. Craw was going to be pissed.

But even given his irritation with the couple, he couldn’t altogether blame them. His son, Nicky, was three, and Mark only could imagine how he’d feel if the boy disappeared. It was bad enough that his wife kept extending her and Nicky’s visit with her parents in Bowling Green. A one-week stay had already stretched into two. He missed the kid like crazy. If they caught a quick break in this case, he’d take a couple of days’ leave and drive over there to see him.

Imperceptibly, he shifted his weight. And while he was at it, he’d deal with his wife, Kelli. He had no idea what was going on in her head. He damn well hoped this stay was still just a visit. Getting a straight answer from her was getting increasingly difficult. For the last several months, their conversations had had a habit of degenerating into accusations and tears. Family life was never smooth sailing.

His attention wandered back to the DeVrieses. Mark knew from personal experience that in every marriage, there was always something going on beneath the surface. Which was why he and Craw were going to have to take a closer look at the DeVries family dynamics.

“Anyone with knowledge of Whitney’s whereabouts, or who may have seen or heard from her recently, is encouraged to call this number.” Craw indicated a large card Masterson held up bearing a toll-free number in bold-block print. “That’s all we have for you today.”

There was an instant tumult. No one believed the press would be dismissed that easily. But as planned earlier, Craw handed off the microphone to Masterson, who would do his best to respond to questions without revealing any more details. Mark didn’t envy the man his task, but he and the other agent were already heading out of the room. Other than a shouted question or two tossed their way, most of the attention remained on the chief.

“You’re about thirty seconds from being the center of a media circus,” Mark murmured to Brian DeVries when he reached his side. Craw flanked Mark, shielding their exchange from the reporters in the room. If the older agent was the master of the press, Mark’s forte was dealing with distressed parents. “If that’s what you want, we can’t prevent it. But open that door, and they’ll never give you a moment’s peace.”

DeVries jutted his jaw. “We have a right to be here.” He was a slight man, maybe five-six with a vaguely antagonistic attitude. As a law-enforcement officer, he should know enough to cooperate with the investigation. But instead, he seemed to think he knew best how to handle it. It was going to be a test of Mark’s patience to maintain a civil relationship with him.

“You do.” He gave a nod. “It’s your choice. But if it’s one you’re going to make, you’ll make it alone. We’re not going to run interference for you.”

Shannon DeVries’s dark eyes were worried as she looked to her husband for reassurance. “Maybe we should leave. I don’t want them following us home. What if they try to talk to Ryan?”

Mark could have told her that the longer her daughter remained missing, the more likely it was that she would have unwanted company camped in front of her home, but that was a conversation for later. If the weather didn’t improve, they might get a reprieve for the time being, regardless.

“I don’t need anyone running interference.” But Brian DeVries scanned the crowd of reporters again and looked uncertain. “We just wanted to hear if you had any details to release.”

Inching toward the door, Mark imperceptibly herded the two along with him. “When we do, you’ll hear about it before the press does.” Craw reached for the knob, and Mark felt a spark of relief when the couple slipped through it ahead of him.

Outside the conference room, he motioned to a young police officer. “Show Mr. and Mrs. DeVries the back exit and follow them home. Make sure they don’t get hassled.” The man nodded, and after a short pause, the couple turned to follow him.

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