The Neighbor by Lisa Gardner Read Free Book Online Page B

somehow, I don’t think he’s gonna grant us access. Fascinating, don’t you think? I mean, his wife vanished in the middle of the night, leaving their daughter all alone in the house, and far from cooperating with us, or asking us any logical questions about what we’re doing to find his wife, Jason Jones sits on that sofa as mute as a mime. Where’s his shock, his disbelief, his panicked need for information? He should be calling friends and relatives. He should be digging out recent photos of his wife for us to canvass the neighborhood. He should, at the very least, be arranging for someone to watch his daughter so he can personally assist with our efforts. This guy—it’s like a switch has been thrown. He’s not even home.”
    “Denial,” Miller offered up, trudging along beside her.
    “We’re gonna have to do this the hard way,” D.D. declared. “Get a search warrant for Jason Jones’s truck, get an affidavit permitting us to seize the computer, as well as requesting printouts of the wife’s cell phone records. Hell, we should probably just have the entire housefrozen as a crime scene. That’d give Jason Jones something to think about.”
    “Tough on the kid.”
    “Yeah, well, that’s the kicker.” If the house was declared a crime scene, Jason and his daughter would be forced to evacuate. Pack a bag, move into a motel under escort from a police cruiser kind of thing. D.D. wondered what little Ree would think, giving up her garden oasis for a cheap hotel room with brown carpets and the stale scent of a decade’s worth of cigarettes. It didn’t make D.D. feel too good about things, but then she had another thought.
    She stopped walking, pivoting toward Miller so abruptly, he nearly ran into her.
    “If we move Jason and Ree out of the house, we’ll have to assign officers to cover them twenty-four/seven. Meaning there’ll be fewer officers actively searching for Sandra Jones, meaning our investigation will slow down during a time when it’s critical to ramp up. You know that. I know that. But Jason doesn’t know that.”
    Miller frowned at her, stroked his mustache.
    “Judge Banyan,” D.D. said, resuming walking at a much brisker pace. “We can prepare the affidavits now, and get ’em to her chamber right after lunch. We’ll get warrants for the computer, the truck, and dammit, we’ll have the house declared a crime scene. We’ll knock Mr. Arctic right out on his ass.”
    “Wait, I thought you just said—”
    “And we’ll hope,” D.D. interjected forcefully, “that when Jason Jones is given a choice between vacating his own home, or letting a certified forensic specialist talk to his child, he’ll opt for the interview.”
    D.D. glanced at her watch. It was just after twelve now, and on cue, her stomach rumbled for lunch. She remembered her early-morning fantasy of an all-you-can-eat buffet, and felt just plain pissy.
    “We’ll need more manpower to execute the warrants,” she added.
    “All right.”
    “And we’re gonna have to think of a way to broaden our search without alerting the media yet.”
    “All right.”
    They were at her car. D.D. paused long enough to look Miller in the eye and sigh heavily.
    “This case sucks,” she declared.
    “I know,” Miller said affably. “Aren’t you glad I called?”

| CHAPTER FIVE |
    At 11:59, Jason finally got the last law enforcement officer out of the house. The sergeant retreated, then the lead detective, the evidence technicians, and the uniformed officers. Only a plainclothes detective remained behind, sitting obtrusively in a brown Ford Taurus parked in front. Jason could watch him from the kitchen window, the officer sitting with his gaze straight ahead, alternately yawning and taking sips of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee.
    After another minute, Jason moved away from the window, realized that his house was all his again, and nearly staggered under the weight of what to do next.
    Ree was staring at him, her big brown eyes so much