3 Buried Leads Read Free Page A

answered. “Married people argue. I didn’t think it was a big argument. I just wanted her to take fewer business trips and spend more time at home. I missed her.”
    Ariel Cook clucked sympathetically. “I’m sure she understood that.”
    “Has there ever been any domestic violence in the house?”
    Brian looked up at me in surprise. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Now that I mention it, his eyes always looked like they were straining in his sockets. It was kind of weird.
    “We’ve been married for seven years,” Brian answered. “I loved my wife. I love my wife. I would never hurt her. I would never lay a hand on her.”
    “I have to ask these questions,” I said honestly. “People are going to be wondering. We want people to be on the lookout for your wife. To do that, we have to convince them that you didn’t do anything to her and you’re not wasting our time.”
    Brian swallowed hard, wiping a stray tear from his face. “I know. You have a job to do. I also know that I can’t find my wife without help. What else do you want to know?”
    The press conference went on for another fifteen minutes. Most of it was just a rehash of how much Brian loved his wife. How much his children – Carrie and Mike – needed their mother. “I’m desperate for my wife to come home.”
    After everyone had exhausted their supply of questions, Brian handed out a card with his cell phone number on it. “Call me any time,” he said. “I need to keep my wife’s name in the news.”
    The Channel 2 woman maneuvered Brian over to an isolated part of the yard to do a private interview at this point and the two weekly reporters were heading towards their cars to leave.
    I looked down at the photograph of Sarah that had been handed out a few minutes before. A small woman, with curly brown hair and bright green eyes stared back at me. She had a warm smile, I thought.
    “What do you really think?” I asked Tony.
    He feigned surprised. “What do you mean?”
    “Don’t play coy,” I admonished him. “What do you think? Is she dead? Did he kill her?”
    “We have nothing that points to that,” Tony said stiffly.
    “It’s not normal to call a press conference at the victim’s home,” I pointed out the obvious.
    “We wanted Mr. Frank to be as comfortable as possible,” Tony replied. He was hiding something. I couldn’t figure out what, though. Did they actually suspect Brian Frank, or was this just a fishing expedition?
    “What’s Jake say about all of this?” I asked finally.
    Tony fixed his dark eyes on me. “You’ll have to ask him that.”
    That wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. At least I hoped.

Three
    After leaving the Frank house in Romeo, I took the same route back to Mount Clemens that I initially used to traverse to the boonies. I stopped at one of the roadside stands and bought fresh corn and Brussels sprouts – and chatted with the woman running the stand.
    When she found out where I worked, she seemed unusually excited. “That sounds like a cool job.”
    That’s what everyone says. Saying the job didn’t have its moments would be a misnomer. It can be exciting. Sitting through city council and water board meetings, though, is the actual definition of boring. Still, you don’t want to tell random people that. They think you’re just being snarky. Of course, I idle at snarky.
    “It’s okay,” I said noncommittally.
    “Why are you out here?” The woman looked around conspiratorially. “Are you busting a meth ring – like I read about that woman doing a month ago?”
    “No,” I shook my head vehemently, praying silently that she wouldn’t put two-and-two together. I had to head her off before she had the chance to think about it too much. “There’s a woman missing in Romeo.”
    The woman looked surprised. “Really? Who?”
    “Her name is Sarah Frank,” I said. “She lives out in Romeo.”
    “Do you think she’s dead?”
    I shrugged. “She’s just missing right