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Lou Nunez was at the office with a client when his cell phone rang. He glanced at caller ID and then frowned.
“I’m sorry, but I need to take this. If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes, I shouldn’t be long.”
The client nodded and Lou got up and went into the outer office to answer.
“Hello, this is Nunez.”
“Mr. Nunez, this is Detective Floyd, Dallas PD. Do you have a few moments to answer some questions?”
“Well, sure, I guess. Does this have anything to do with Rachel being kidnapped? Because if it does, I’ll do anything I can to help. We all really like her. She is a little workaholic, but a delight to be around. What do you need to know?”
Floyd had to admit the man was forthcoming, but he could also be a damn good liar.
“How many years have you been a resident of Detter House?” Floyd asked.
“Oh, goodness. Maybe eleven, no, this year is twelve years. I don’t have any relatives in the state, but the amenities at Detter House are perfect for fostering a social atmosphere, which keeps me from feeling lonely.”
“Are you married?” Floyd asked.
“Not now. I moved to Detter House after my divorce. What does—?”
“Are you aware of any other women going missing since you’ve been living there?”
“Lord, no. Look at all the turmoil Rachel’s absence caused! We would have all known, you know?”
“Where were you yesterday morning?” Floyd asked.
“I was at work. You can check with my employer. I didn’t find out about that Wyrick woman being abducted or that Rachel Dean had been found until I got the phone call from Wayne Dyer that we were going to be moved to the Ritz.”
“Okay, I think that’s it for now. Thank you.”
“Sure,” Lou said. “Would it be out of line to ask about Rachel’s welfare?”
“No. She’s had surgery and is in the ICU. I don’t believe she’s regained consciousness,” Floyd said.
“God. This is just so tragic. I keep praying she’ll pull through,” Lou said. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Of course,” Floyd said and ended the call.
“He didn’t come across as guarded or evasive,” Mills said.
Floyd nodded. “Okay, let’s see what Sonny Burch has to say for himself.” He made the call, waited for it to start ringing and within seconds it went to voice mail.
“Yes, Mr. Burch. This is Detective Floyd of the Dallas PD. Please call me at this number at your earliest convenience.” And then he hung up.
“Voice mail?” Mills asked.
Floyd nodded. “He has it turned off because it went directly to voice mail. I’m calling his office,” he said and made that call next.
Within seconds a perky little voice was on the line.
“Mid-Texas Leasing, Chelsea speaking.”
“Good morning, Chelsea. This is Detective Floyd of the Dallas PD. I need to speak to Sonny Burch.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Sonny’s not here. Would you like to speak to Darryl? He’s the manager.”
“Yes, please,” Floyd said and waited to be transferred. A few moments later a man answered.