Page 112 of You'll Never Find Me

“I did.”

“Were they healthy? Well cared for?”

I wasn’t exactly sure where they were going with this, but considering what Carillo had told them in the official report about postpartum depression, I suspected they were trying to ascertain whether she was a danger to her children.

“They were kids. PJ was chatty and running around, happy, the baby a chunky, bright-eyed little girl. Annie dotes on them and every time I’ve seen her with them, she’s been an excellent mom.”

“Annie left her house Sunday morning, with her children. Did she tell you where she was going?”

“No.” Getting into the gray area, but Annie didn’t tell me where she was going. I gave her the address in a sealed envelope because I didn’t want to know. I knew she was headed to San Antonio, but that could have been a stop—maybe they had another destination for her. I didn’t want to know that, either.

Rafe knew, but there was no reason for the police to talk to him.

“Ms. Angelhart, I viewed security footage from one of the Carillos’ neighbors, and it showed Annie in the front seat of your car.” He gestured to the Jeep. “I couldn’t tell if the kids were in the back seat because of your tinted windows, but I assume they were.”

I didn’t say anything because he didn’t ask a question.

“It’s not a crime for a woman to leave her husband and not tell him where she’s going,” Sullivan said, “but they are his kids, too.”

Again, no question, so I remained silent.

“Where did you take Annie?”

“She doesn’t want me to tell anyone.”

“Her husband just wants to know that his wife and his kids are safe.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Mr. Carillo is concerned that she’s a danger to herself and the kids.”

When I didn’t answer, he said, “Why don’t you want to cooperate?”

“I am.”

His expression changed just a fraction, but I could see the irritation flit across his face.

Officer Nunez asked, “Are Annie and the kids safe?”

Now she is. “Yes.”

“Mr. Carillo plans to petition the court to compel his wife to return with his kids,” Sullivan said. “I will be required to give a copy of my report to the judge, and he may subpoena you to testify as to where Annie is.”

I doubted the court would subpoena me, and if they did, it would be months from now. I said, “I will answer all questions under oath truthfully. Including the fact that I do not know where Annie is.” I pushed off from the Jeep. “My mother used to be the district attorney of Maricopa County. I know the process.”

Neither cop showed a reaction; Sullivan had been a cop long enough that he’d likely worked with my mother’s office, though she’d left more than a decade ago.

He held out his card. “Call me if you want to share more information.”

Odd comment. I took the card, slipped it into my back pocket. “Detective, did you tell Carillo you saw my car on security cameras?”

If he was surprised by the question, he didn’t show it. He nodded toward the uniformed officer. “Archie reviewed the footage from several neighbors, ran the plates, identified you last night at end of shift, so we came out first thing this morning.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You didn’t answer mine.”

“I answered every question you asked. I can’t answer unasked questions.”