And Then There Was One Read Online Free PDF Page B

rest?”
    “Not until you find my daughters,” Katie said, her voice hoarse from crying. “I just can’t.”
    “I’m leaving for my office now,” he told them. “It’ll be easier for me to work the system there.”
    “Then we’ll go with you,” said Scott as he and Katie stood.
    What could Streeter do? Of course he’d let them accompany him. They’d be dead on their feet as would he, but if they were up to it, he’d keep pushing them, especially the doctor. He was sure there was more to be learned about her past, and the shady people that she’d pissed off as a forensic psychiatrist. He wondered what had possessed her to chose such an unseemly career. Treating the children of abuse and kids with all kinds of mental illness, that he could understand, sort of. But going head-to-head with abusers, pitting her expert opinion against the lowest rung of human deviants? It took a special person, and from what he’d been hearing from the Tampa district attorney, Katie Monroe was a special person, indefatigable, tough, yet compassionate. But what he was seeing now was a woman unraveling, faltering, unsure of herself. Streeter had seen this before and he’d seen the opposite, too, with mothers, passive and meek, who’d transformed in a crisis threatening their children into aggressive tigers.
    During the ride into downtown Detroit, Streeter sat up front with his driver and the Monroes in the backseat. All were quiet on the ride as Jackie slept in her father’s arms and Streeter contemplated the most difficult of questions. Had either parent played a role in Sammie and Alex’s disappearance?
    The Sunday evening news had reported the missing Monroe children, but by Monday morning the story exploded throughout Detroit, across Florida, and was going national. Despite their lack of sleep, Streeter had advised the Monroe’s to tape an appeal. Scott wanted to spare Katie, but in the end they both sat in front of the cameras, teary eyed and in voices hoarse from endless crying, pleading for the safe return of their daughters. Both parents had experience with the media, but huddled together, they looked like innocent children themselves, so pathetically scared were they. The networks lobbied for an interviewwith the third triplet, Jackie. Katie and Scott refused. Yes, they would provide photos and videos of the triplets if that would help.
    By mid-morning, the viewing world had become obsessed with the triplet images, trying to decipher which was which. Friends and teachers were approached for interviews by the media, soon followed by the Tampa police, looking for any clue. By afternoon, stories of the girls’ individual personalities became talk-show fodder. Sammie, the feisty one; Alex, the shy one; Jackie, the friendly one. Added to that was a rehash of Scott’s baseball career, all the old pictures, the replay of the injury that took him out of the sport. The local Tampa station ran video clips from the girls’ baseball games. “Condors” in red letters against white uniforms. Sammie, the pitcher; Jackie, shortstop; Alex at third. Startling, the alacrity of media access to show-and-tell video content.
    With all the publicity flack, it was after one o’clock when Agent Streeter called each parent, one at a time, into his office for another interrogation.
    Streeter had spoken to the manager of the New York Yankees just prior to leading Scott into his office. Don Plese pretty much corroborated what Scott had told him. Scott was a stand-up guy. Players liked him. Managers liked him. Hell, even opposing teams liked him. Type of guy that transcended cultures, races, social strata. Any enemies? No, but a qualified no. His job did require decisions. Who would move up to the majors. Who wouldn’t. Any vendettas against him? None known. Any family troubles? No, the guy was a dedicated husband and father, devout Catholic. Gave out Communion at Mass. No girlfriends hiding in the closet, or boyfriends for that matter? An