“Yeah.”
“So, she believed she was in danger and then she went missing?” Tony said. “It didn’t occur to you that the two things might be related?”
Tony’s frustration was showing. River felt the same way, but alienating Nathan by making it seem they blamed him for April’s situation wouldn’t help anything.
“This wasn’t the first time she’d felt that way down through the years,” Nathan said, his tone somewhat defensive. “It never turned out to be real. I assumed this was the same thing.”
“Can you tell us about the case?” River asked calmly. “It’s possible her state of mind is important, even if there wasn’t any real threat. How she acted in the days up to her disappearance could reveal something that might help us.”
She frowned at Tony, who seemed to take the hint. He leaned back in his chair and nodded at her.
“I can’t be certain which case was bothering her,” Nathan said. “She wouldn’t tell me. I’m not sure why, but since she’d been wrong before, she might not have felt confident enough to share her concerns. In the months before she went missing, she was trying hard to focus only on the facts. She wouldn’t move on anything until she had solid leads. I think her mistakes in the beginning made her cautious. So, this is just a guess, but the case that was taking up most of her time was the Castlewood Casanova. Two teenagers—a guy and a girl—were reported missing. Their bodies were found in Castlewood Park in Ballwin, near the river. It was assumed that they went there to make out.”
Tony frowned. “Why use the word Casanova?”
Nathan shrugged. “April named most of her cases, but this one had already been given a title by a newspaper reporter. I think it was because the young man involved had a bit of a reputation. I have no idea if it was deserved or if the reporter just wanted something that started with a C. You know, because of Castlewood Park.”
“And they never found a suspect?”
“They interviewed several people, ruled them all out. But April felt there was one man who could have done it. She also suspected that he’d killed before. She didn’t talk much about it, but I could tell those murders really bothered her.”
“Are there any notes on her laptop about that particular case?” River asked.
“Yes, some. But she kept most of her notes in her notebook. She was kind of old school when it came to that. She’d take that notebook with her wherever she went so she could write down things that occurred to her when she wasn’t home. Look, she was working on seven cases when she disappeared.” Nathan frowned. “I don’t want to steer you in the wrong direction. The Casanova case might not have been the one she was concentrating on when she disappeared. April was . . . is . . . the kind of person who doesn’t know how to let go of something. She could have been super focused on any one of her cases.”
“We need to go through the items we asked for,” River said. “If we have questions about them, we’ll let you know when we see you. After we’re through, we’ll talk about our next steps. Is that okay?”
He nodded. “I’ll do anything I can to help. I need to go home and get back to work. Where can I meet you to give you everything?”
“What time do you quit working today?” Tony asked.
“Around six.”
River looked at Tony. “Why don’t we come by your place? We’ll pick up your phone, April’s phone, both laptops, and the notebook.”
Nathan nodded. “That’s fine. Then you’ll bring my phone and laptop back in the morning?”
Tony nodded. “Around eight?”
“That’s perfect. I never get calls from my boss before nine.” Nathan recited his address and River wrote it down on the notepad on her desk.
“Can we find April’s podcast by searching for Hot Coffee and Cold Cases?” River asked.
“Yes, but here’s a card with the URL.” He stood up and reached into his back pocket, taking out his billfold. He opened it, took out a card, and handed it to River.
“Okay. We’ll see you around six,” Tony said.
“Do I need to give you a retainer or something?”
“Why don’t we take a look at April’s things first?” Tony said. “Then we’ll tell you if we think we can help you.”
Since their past cases hadn’t made them much money, River decided to tell Nathan the amount of their retainer and how much they would charge each day the case extended beyond the initial amount if they took his case.
“That’s fine,” Nathan said, not reacting at all when River mentioned the totals.
Rather than walk toward the door, he stood where he was, shifting from one foot to the other. Something else was bothering him, but River had no idea what it was. Had she read him wrong? Was he actually concerned about the retainer? “Are you certain our fee isn’t a problem for you?”
He shook his head. “I earn quite a bit, and I inherited some money when my father passed away. Like I said, I have money.”
He was pretty young to have lost his dad. “I’m sorry about your father.”
“Thank you. We were shocked when he died. A sudden heart attack.”
“That’s rough,” Tony said. “My condolences.”
“I miss him every day. I wish he were here to give me advice now.” He blinked away tears. River felt empathy for Nathan. First he lost his father, and then the woman he loves disappeared? Compassion made her really want to help him, but would they be able to? This case really was cold. When it came to a missing person, those in law enforcement believed the first forty-eight hours were crucial. After that, it was likely they would only recover a body. The note had brought April’s disappearance back to life, but was it real? If April’s podcast had a lot of followers, could one of them have sent it for their own reasons? People did strange things. As behavioral analysts, she and Tony had seen individuals take actions that were hard to explain—even with their training. Was there actually a reason to hope they could find the answers Nathan was looking for?
“Is there anything else?” Since their fee didn’t seem to bother him, why was his body language telling her that something was on his mind?
“Look, I hadn’t planned to bring this up. I love April. With all my heart. But loving someone doesn’t mean you think they don’t have flaws. April wasn’t perfect. I’m not perfect. Even though she had her . . . problems, she was . . .” He sighed. “Is . . . the best person I’ve ever known.”
He was trying hard to keep April in the present tense, but it was obviously difficult even though Nathan desperately wanted to believe she was alive.
“What are you trying to tell us?” Although Tony was attempting to be patient with the young man, it was clear he was exasperated with the way Nathan was dispensing information in dribs and drabs.
Nathan didn’t respond. He just stared down at the floor.
“Nathan, you have to be completely honest with us if you want us to help you,” River said sternly. “No hiding anything. Even if something doesn’t seem important to you, it might be vital to us. If you don’t trust us, this isn’t going to work.”
