I felt anger rise through my chest.
“He said I'd embarrass myself if I went to the police.”
I clenched my jaw.
“And then he locked you downstairs.”
Mrs. Wilson nodded.
“He wanted me to sign one final paper. I refused.”
“What paper?”
Her eyes met mine.
“Something that would let other people control my house and my interest in the Seven Oaks property.”
After visiting Mrs. Wilson, I met Detective Ortiz at the police station.
She had assigned investigators to the other women in Alex's photographs.
“There's been some progress,” she said.
I leaned forward.
“Are they alive?”
“We've confirmed the whereabouts of three so far.”
My stomach tightened.
“Which three?”
“Helen Parker is in an assisted-living facility. Edith Morris is staying with her niece in another county. And June Harris is in a private rehabilitation residence.”
I exhaled.
“Are they safe?”
“We're arranging welfare checks and private interviews. Being located doesn't necessarily mean someone is safe or has gone there voluntarily.”
