Page 115 of Pretty Broken Dolls

“Oh. Is Katie around?”

“No, she left at the regular time. Did you need something?”

John opened the door wider. “I just got a call from Katie a little bit ago looking for Lizzy. She seemed stressed and abruptly hung up.”

“What did she say?”

“Just that. She wanted to know if I had heard from Lizzy, which I haven’t.”

“Katie was supposed to be meeting Lizzy for dinner tonight.”

John paused and thought a moment. “Did she happen to mention that text problem with her phone? She got some strange texts, supposedly from you and Lizzy.”

“Yeah, we thought you might be able to trace the sender.”

John frowned and stepped inside. “I did some checking about cell phone cloning because I really don’t know much about it. Spoofing someone’s number is more accessible and it’s a common tool used by telemarketers these days. Someone could do that, but there are some software programs out there that you can use to clone from one phone to another but you generally need the SIM card of the phone you want to clone. There is more sophisticated software which allows you to clone a phone within a minute—but it’s generally used by the FBI or other law enforcement agencies.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You worried?” said John.

McGaven picked up his phone and called Katie. He waited for her to pick up, but it rang out. “Huh, no voicemail,” he said.

John called her number on his phone. “Same. No pick-up or voicemail.” Turning to McGaven, he said, “You look worried.”

“I am.”

“What’s been going on?” John remained solemn and listened intently to McGaven explain about Agent Campbell and the circumstances surrounding the investigations.

“I see,” said John. He was a man of few words but he spoke up when he felt it was necessary. “We need to find her.”

“What makes you think she’s not at home and just not answering her phone?”

John smiled. “We are talking about Katie.”

“You’re right.” McGaven picked up the department phone landline. “Patch me through to patrol near the ninth RA.” This referred to the responsibility area of a specific police officer. He patiently waited. “Sarge, it’s Deputy McGaven. I was wondering if you would check on a detective. Yes: Scott. It’s 8788 Spruce Drive. Thanks.” He hung up.

“And?”

“He’ll call me back.”

“Where was she going after work. Home?”

“Yes, and then she was going to meet Lizzy at seven thirty at the bistro.”

“Okay.” He dialed Lizzy’s number. “Same thing,” he said. “It rings but no answer.” He looked up a number on his phone and then dialed. “I’m calling the bistro. Let’s make sure they— Yes, thank you. Two of my friends are having dinner tonight and I was wondering if they had already left or not? Katie Scott or Lizzy Cromwell.” He waited. “I see. Thank you.”

“Were they there?” asked McGaven.

“Only Katie, but Lizzy didn’t show up.”

The phone rang.

McGaven snatched up the receiver. “Deputy McGaven. You sure? Thank you.” He slowly hung up the phone.

“What?” said John.

“Not home. We have a problem.”