The police scanner squawked and crackled, interrupting the quiet usually associated with 2:30 at night. Pete Moss rolled over, instinctively reaching for the snooze button.
When he realized it wasn't the radio, Moss slowly sat on the edge of the bed rubbing sand from his eyes and the cobwebs out of his mind.
Oh, the police radio in the next room, that's what it is, he thought. He stood and padded softly to the next room to hear what was going on.
"... 16-year-old female. 5 foot six. Brown hair, brown eyes. 145 pounds. Name is Elaine Marberg. Last reported seen at the Riverside Bowling Center on Roseville's east side. May be traveling in a blue, 1963 Dodge Dart. Last seen at 12:30 a.m. heading east on County Road MJ."
Moss reached over to turn down the volume. Something's up, he thought. Otherwise, police aren't issuing search orders so soon after a teenager disappears. Most of the time the kid shows up after sunrise at mom and dad's; this must be different. He returned to the bedroom to get dressed. Today is starting a bit early.
Just before walking out the door, his cell phone rang, the name Emjay showed on the screen of his Galaxy 3 phone.
"Hello, Emjay?"
"It's me, yeah," Pete could hear the worry and fatigue loud and clear on the phone, "Hi, Pete. I'm sorry to wake you."
"Look, Emjay, I'm up. More important here, how are you? I heard the police radio about ten minutes ago. And I'm heading to the station now. So, are you up for the same reason?" Pete tread lightly. Emjay was a part-timer and he didn't want to take advantage of the relationship. Talking about whatever this might be is up to her and her family.
Yawns and a muffled sob came from the other end. Then a couple of sniffles and a deep breath.
"Pete, we don't know what happened. Elaine is my younger sister. She's usually pretty smart, but we just heard around one this morning from a friend of hers that Elaine was forced into an old car out at the bowling alley. Pete, this isn't like her. She's not perfect or anything - but it's not right."
"Have you been talking to the police? Who has?"
"I did. Mom can barely put two words together. Jake got in our car, picked up Dad and they blew out of here 20 minutes ago heading east on County MJ."
"Alright, Emjay - you know we'll do everything we can. I'll be at the station in five minutes. If you and your mom are OK to come over maybe you could meet me..."
"Sorry, Pete. Mom won't leave. She doesn't want to be gone when Elaine comes home."
"That makes sense. Sorry. Of course. I can be over to your place in less than 10 minutes - is that OK? In the meantime, if you haven't already done so - please get the most recent photos of your sister onto a thumb drive for me and I'd get it plastered on Facebook and whatever social media your sister was using, we'll get more eyeballs out there fast. Is there a police officer or deputy with you yet?"
"Not yet, we know one is on their way. I'll work on the photos for you. Thanks, Pete - we'll see you soon."
Pete backed out of his garage, checking for lights before pulling onto the street and heading to the station.
Pete picked up his gear, grabbed his reporter's notebook and a pen, and headed back to the car. He dialed the sheriff's direct line.
"Stearns here."
"Hi. It's Pete."
"Where have you been, man? We need some help on this and right now. What do you know?"
Pete recounted what he'd heard on the radio and everything Emjay told him about her sister.
"That's only half of it. The person we suspect to be driving the Dodge Dart is a 38-year-old male. A partial read of the plates matches a car from a small town near Lake Michigan. We aren't completely sure, but this is not a good guy, Pete. We need to find her and fast."
"Roger that. Thanks, I'll call something in and get it on our air right now, then I'll get in touch with the AP and a friend of mine who's up by now at the Milwaukee station. Maybe we can get this guy before he knows what's happening."
"I sure hope so, Pete. I sure hope so."
Pete called the station and talked with Jim who works overnight. He told Jim how to patch in the telephone call and suggested an introduction. He pulled over with his lights flashing to do his report.
"Good Evening, or should I say, Good Morning everyone. This is Pete Moss. New overnight is breaking news in Roseville. A 16-year-old Roseville girl is apparently the victim of a grab and run incident near midnight at the Riverside Bowling Center.
"Details are still coming in, but she was placed in what is described as a blue 1963 Dodge Dart heading east on County MJ - possible heading toward Lake Michigan. Anyone with information about the car is encouraged to call 9-1-1.
"The girl is identified as 16-year-old Elaine Marberg. We'll have more on this story as we get more information. I'm Pete Moss for WRSE - WMJM news."
After he heard a commercial playing, he talked with Jim about making a call to Jeff so he'd know what's happening and call Ken Records who serves as the backup morning anchor in these kinds of situations.
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In the car - Elaine was concentrating on breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
She could feel her heart rate returning to normal. The guy behind the wheel didn't look familiar at all. Hair to his shoulders and what looked like a notch in his right ear.
He was singing, if you could call it that, along with a song playing on his IPOD which was plugged into the cigarette lighter.
He didn't look right. There was a strange look in his eye. His eye found hers whenever she happened to look at the rear view mirror. She knew they were heading east - having angled north of Madison and about to pass through Columbus any time now. She guessed her friends told someone by now, called the cops, and her family. "Oh no, her family! She held back a tear and made herself stop sobbing before she started.
In any case, she knew she wanted him listening to his music and not the radio. She assumed Emjay would use her connection with the station to get something on the air. But what and when were two variables. And Elaine wasn't sure how much longer she'd be in this stinky car.
"SO," he fairly shouted from the front seat, not realizing only he could hear the music, "what's your name?"
"Elaine."
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Pete was on his way to the Marberg home to talk about what happened. He speed-dialed his friend in Milwaukee to provide details and ask if they could get something on the air.
Satisfied with the response, Moss said thanks and ended the phone call. Then he called Ken Records who was awake now, and filled Ken in what he knew so far and asked Ken to coordinate things from the station. He'd either file something from the car or come back to the station after talking with the family.
When he reached the Marberg home on the edge of town he noticed all the lights on; something you don't usually expect at quarter to four. As he came to a stop and got out of the car, Emjay heading toward him. After saying hello, she handed him a Diet Dew, "I'm on my second already, figured you might need one." With the can of Dew was a quarter inch stick. It was the hard drive Pete asked for on the phone.
Pete smiled and said thanks before following her into the kitchen. Jean was sitting looking out the window while holding a steaming cup of coffee just below her chin.
"Mom? Pete Moss from the station is here."
"Oh. Right. I'm sorry. Thanks for coming, Mr. Moss."
"Mrs. Marberg, you can call me Pete. I'm very sorry with what's happened. Is it OK if I record our conversation? It will help me get the details right. If you don't want me to use it on air, I won't."
"Pete, then. Thank you, it's OK to record this. I'll do anything if you think it will get my little girl back." Jean had stopped shaking, but it seemed like everything was a blurry kind of slow motion.
"Yes, ma'am. Maybe we can start with what you know, when you heard, just like you'd tell your neighbors."
Jean started her story with the loud ringing of the home phone at 1 a.m. That's the last time things seemed normal around here.
Pete asked Emjay questions too. She described what she was told happened out the Riverside. As he listened, Pete tried to catch the sound bites he was hearing so he could find them quickly for the next story.
At the sheriff's office, the 9-1-1 line was getting three times the number of normal calls. Sheriff Stearns, on his third cup of coffee, was just getting off the phone with the State Patrol trying to figure out where this guy and Elaine might be right now.
"Excuse me, sheriff?" a 9-1-1 operator poked her head in the office, "I have a person on the line who says they saw the whole thing this morning, knows the suspect and thinks he knows where they're headed."
"Patch in the call, please. And stay on the line and record it so we can move as fast as possible."
"Very good, Sheriff. I'll send it in on line 1."
The next chapter opens at 3 pm.
The next chapter opens at 3 pm.
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