I have a respectable job. We have excellent credit. We keep our place clean.
They'd need more than a brief sighting of her going in our house to get a search warrant, wouldn't they?"
She was only repeating what he'd told her in the past, but she was right. They'd need a damn good reason to search his home.
But that guy next door bothered Colin.
"When's the last time you checked on Sam?" he asked.
"I fed her before you got home."
He twisted around to arch an eyebrow at her. "What'd you give her?"
She answered so low Colin couldn't make out the words.
"What did you feed her?" he asked again, letting her know by his tone that she'd better speak more clearly.
Her sheepish expression made her seem almost childlike, especially with that busted lip. "The leftovers from last night."
He propped his hands on his hips. "My food?"
"You don't like to eat the same meal two days in a row."
"But that's not what she's supposed to get. This isn't some damn luxury hotel."
"I--I didn't know if I should feed her the same stuff I did Rover or...or if she was going to be a different kind of pet."
"I like dogs best," he said.
"So...you want me to feed her the rest of what we have in the garage?"
"Of course. Why waste it?" He went back to the window. It was getting dark. Once the light went on in Lucassi's kitchen, Colin could see Mr. Lucassi speaking to his guest. Where was the pretty Zoe? "When it's gone, let me know and I'll buy another bag," he added.
Tiffany perched on the edge of the couch. "Okay."
"She feeling any better?"
"I couldn't tell. She didn't say much. When I brought the food, she asked if she could go home. That's all she ever asks. When I told her no, she rolled over and went to sleep."
"She didn't eat?"
"Not a bite."
"She'll be sorry for that." Colin could no longer see anyone in Lucassi's kitchen. They'd moved to another room, out of range.
Giving up his vigil, he decided to go upstairs and look in on his new pet. Now that his friends weren't coming over, he'd have some time to train her.
Samantha's room was spotless. Her clothes hung in color-coded groups in the closet, with her shoes neatly paired below. The bed was made, her drawers were neat, her jewelry rested inside a wooden jewelry box on the dresser. The only juvenile aspect in this room was the bulletin board that leaned against the dresser mirror. Jonathan guessed Lucassi had refused to let her hang it on the wall. A man so concerned with objects wouldn't want to hammer an extra hole in the Sheetrock simply to display what he would consider "junk."
Pausing in front of the bulletin board, Jonathan examined the items he found there: photographs of Samantha with another young girl, Samantha at Disneyland with an older man who had a Sam Elliott mustache, Samantha with her mother. There were pictures of Sam and Zoe with Lucassi, too, but they were positioned so that Lucassi didn't show. It could've been inadvertent, but Jonathan thought it probably wasn't. Hiding Lucassi's image revealed Sam's desire to erase him from her life.
"See? There's nothing in here." Lucassi spoke from where he'd taken a seat at the girl's desk, which held one schoolbook and a sheet of paper with yesterday's date written above answers to several algebra problems. There were undoubtedly more personal items in the drawers--she had to put her stuff somewhere--but this book was the only item out of place in the whole house. Obviously, Samantha had spent some time studying before going out to the pool.
"Who's this?" He held up the picture of Sam with the older man.
"That's her grandpa, Ely Duncan. And if you haven't figured out from that ridiculous mustache and all those tattoos, he's not like most grandparents."
"How's he different?" Jonathan had heard a little already, but he wanted to see what Lucassi had to say on the subject.
"He's an old biker, has a record, can't seem to keep himself out of jail."
"Does he care about Sam?"
"I don't think he cares about anyone but himself, or he would've given Zoe a better childhood."
"He cares."
Zoe stood in the doorway, her face freshly washed, her hair in a ponytail. She was trying to rally. "He's just--" she searched for words "--too dysfunctional to live life any differently."
Jonathan brought the picture closer, studying the hard-bitten man who was Zoe's father. "Where is he now?"
"L.A."
"If he's not in jail somewhere else. She hasn't heard from him since she moved in with me," Lucassi added.
"He's not in jail," Zoe said. "Detective Thomas, who's been assigned to Sam's case, has already checked into it. He's even had someone from the Los Angeles police go by the trailer, but...so far, nothing. No one knows where he's at."
Jonathan spoke to Zoe. "How many months has it been since you've had contact?"
"About nine."
"Is that normal?"
She motioned as if to say it was as normal as not. "Communication between us has been spotty for years. But this is longer than usual." She paused. "We got into an argument last summer."
"Over..."
"He wanted Sam to stay with him for a week so he could take her to Disneyland."
"He's taken her there before, I see."
She inclined her head. "Once. Two years ago. I was there, too."
"You refused to let her go again?"
"I refused to let her travel to southern California alone. I didn't trust him to provide a safe environment. And--" she paused again "--I was starting a new job, so I couldn't go with her."
Considering what'd happened to Zoe while she was in the care of this biker dude, keeping Sam home made sense. "Have you notified him about this?"
"I've left messages. Several, in fact. I...haven't received a response."
"He's probably lying in an alley, on a drunken binge."
Jonathan ignored Lucassi. "And this is Sam's best friend, Marti?" He pointed to another photograph.
"That's right."
"Can you give me her parents' contact information? I'd like to talk to her, with their consent."
"Of course." She knew the girl's address and telephone number by heart. She dictated it to him, and he recorded it in his BlackBerry.
"If it helps, the police have already questioned her," she said. "She claims Samantha wasn't acting any differently and that she hadn't met anyone new, that she would never run away."