‘He didn’t have to say it.’ Once again, Cohen clicked and scrolled on his computer screen. ‘At least not in so many words.’ He found what he was looking for and adjusted himself on his chair. ‘I was the one who spoke with him on the phone, after leaving him countless messages. He finally called me back the day before his father committed suicide, on June 30th, days after we left him the first message explaining that his dad had gone missing.’
‘He didn’t seem to care?’ Garcia asked.
Cohen chuckled before explaining. ‘I started recording theconversation after we’d already exchanged a few sentences, but I’m sure you’ll get the gist.’ He used his left hand to gesture Hunter and Garcia closer. ‘You’ll need to move closer to hear it. This is a loud floor.’
‘We’ve noticed,’ Garcia came back, as he and Hunter leaned forward, placed their elbows onto Cohen’s desk, and craned their ears closer to the computer speakers.
On his screen, Cohen clicked ‘play’.
‘Listen, like I just told you,’Joe Thomas Suarez’s voice came through the small desktop speakers. He sounded annoyed.‘I don’t care if my father is missing. I haven’t seen or spoken to him in five years and truthfully, I hope I never will again, so please, stop calling me and leaving messages.’
‘So he hasn’t tried to contact you in the past few days?’Cohen’s voice came through in the recording.
‘Jesus, man. Why the hell did you call me if you’re not going to listen to what I tell you? I’m not sure how I can make this any clearer – I haven’t SEEN or SPOKEN to my father in five years, since my mother died, OK? Even if he tried to contact me, I wouldn’t talk to him. I’ve got nothing to say to that man. I don’t care if he’s missing. I don’t care if he turns up dead in a ditch. I don’t care about him and he doesn’t care about me. Now please, stop calling me, OK?’
The line went dead.
Hunter peeked at Garcia. The reference to Terry Wilford turning up dead in a ditch was clearly concerning.
‘Like I’ve said,’ Cohen commented. ‘Joe and his father did not get along.’
‘Was he informed of his father’s death?’ Hunter asked. ‘Was Mr. Wilford’s mother?’
‘We left messages,’ Cohen said, his stare crawling over to the UVC detectives. He gave them a one-shoulder shrug. ‘Like I’ve explained, his mother can’t even remember that she had a son.Informing her directly would make no difference, but we did notify the nursing home. In the case of his son…’ Cohen’s eyebrows arched. He used both index fingers to point at his screen. ‘You heard the phone conversation I had with him, right? He couldn’t give a monkey’s piss for his father, but yes, I did call him. Of course, he didn’t pick up, so I left a message. That’s the best I could do. He never called back.’
Hunter and Garcia nodded their understanding.
Cohen clicked his mouse twice then scrolled down on his screen. ‘Over here in LA, we talked to everyone we could – work colleagues, neighbors, friends… nothing. We couldn’t even pinpoint the exact day that he went missing.’
‘Really?’ Garcia asked.
‘Terry Wilford was last seen in the early hours of Friday morning, June 21st, after finishing his Thursday night shift at The Varnish,’ Cohen began. ‘The place closes at 1:00 a.m. every morning. That same Friday evening – June 21st – he was off work. He was only expected back on Saturday at 5:00 p.m.’
‘And he never turned up.’ Garcia stated rather than questioned.
‘No, he didn’t,’ Cohen confirmed. ‘Then he didn’t turn up for his shift on Sunday either. On Monday morning, June 24th, he was reported missing by a Sabrina Davis, who also works at The Varnish.’
‘But according to these records,’ Garcia interjected, ‘the investigation didn’t really start until the next day, Tuesday, June 25th.’
‘And there’s a reason for that,’ Cohen explained. ‘The number of times that people try to report an independent adult as missing, only to have that person safely reappear two or three days later, would blow your mind.’ He shrugged. ‘People do stupid things, especially over a weekend – they binge-drink and pass out somewhere… get high on acid, Xanax, opioids, whatever, and zone out for days. Sometimes they disappear with a lover that no oneknew about… or simply have had enough and decide to clock off for a while without telling anyone. Things like that happen…a lot.We just can’t afford to allocate people or resources every time somebodythinkssomeone has gone missing. That’s why we waited one more day.’
Hunter and Garcia both nodded.
‘At The Varnish,’ Cohen continued. ‘I was told that Mr. Wilford was friendly enough with everyone, including the customers, without ever stepping over the too-friendly line. I got the same response from all the neighbors I talked to. No one seemed to dislike him.’
‘Miss Davis,’ Hunter asked. ‘The waitress who reported Terry Wilford as missing, did she seem to know Mr. Wilford well?’
‘Better than anyone else we’ve spoken to,’ Cohen confirmed. ‘Not only did they work together at The Varnish most nights, but they also spent time together outside work.’
‘Time together as friends or as a couple?’ Garcia asked.
‘According to Sabrina Davis, they werenota couple. But she did admit that they slept together sporadically – sometimes at her place, sometimes at his. She also told me that they were working together on the night of Thursday, June 20th – his last ever shift at The Varnish – and that Terry had suggested that they spend the night together, but Miss Davis declined. The subject’s last sighting time was around a quarter to two in the morning.’
‘A quarter to two?’ Hunter asked.
Cohen clarified that despite The Varnish closing at 1:00 a.m. every morning, it was common practice for the staff to share a beer or two after hours, but that night, out of the five-strong staff, only Sabrina and Terry had stayed behind.
‘And that sighting was done by Miss Davis?’ Hunter asked.