B009QTK5QA EBOK (6 page)

That was as much of an invitation as I probably deserved. “Alright. You said your mom moved to Florida? Do you know where?”

“I don’t remember,” he said.

“You don’t remember,” I said.

He shrugged. “Somewhere on the coast, I think.”

“Is there any way to find out?” I asked. “I’d like to talk to her and your sister if possible.”

He sighed. “I don’t know, man.”

I couldn’t tell whether his indifference was more about me or more about having been abandoned by his mother. Probably a little of both.

“Okay,” I said. “How about this? Did you and your sister go to school somewhere around here?”

A smile tried to force its way onto his face. “When I actually went to school, yeah.”

“I mean elementary school. When you were younger.”

The smile gave up. “Yeah. Couple blocks from here. Hawkins.”

“Public school?”

“Do I look like a private-school kid?” He shook his head, irritated that I even asked the question. “Yeah. Shitty public elementary school. And, no, I don’t remember the names of her teachers.”

“She went there the entire time you lived here?”

“Yep.”

A wave of icy air breezed up my back. “You really don’t know the name of the place in Florida?”

“Look, man, I have zero interest in talking to my mom, alright?”

“I understand. I’m not asking you to talk to her. I’m just looking for anything that leads to my daughter and talking to your sister is the best connection I’ve ever had to her.”

He sighed again and his eyes shifted to the ground. “Yeah, but if you go poking around and tell them how you found them, she’s gonna start asking about me.”

“You don’t talk to her at all?”

“Nope.”

“Do you want to?”

“No, I really don’t,” he said, looking at me. “I don’t need her. And I don’t want her to start calling me and asking me how I am. I don’t want any of that crap. And if you go talking to her, I guarantee she’ll start bugging me.”

“Okay,” I said. “I won’t tell her I talked to you.”

He grunted. “Yeah, right.”

“You don’t believe me?”

He squinted at me. “Not really.”

The wind blew up my back again and I pulled my coat tighter around me. Jacob made no move to invite me in.

“Look, the only thing I care about is finding my daughter,” I said. “That’s it. Your business is your business and I’m not sticking my nose in it. You don’t tell me where they live, I’ll probably find it anyway. Just take me longer. But I have no interest in getting involved with you or your mom or any other member of your family. I just want to find my daughter.”

He stood there, skepticism oozing out of every inch of him. It was hard to blame him. He may not have wanted anything to do with his mother but it was clear he still harbored a ton of anger. And it sounded like maybe it was warranted. It didn’t seem as if Jacob Detwiler had been dealt a great hand in the parenting cards.

“Thanks for the name of the school,” I finally said. “I appreciate it.”

I stepped down off the porch and headed for the car.

“Vero,” he said.

I turned around.

“Vero Beach,” he said. He frowned at me. “That’s where they moved. Somewhere around there. But I don’t know if they still live there. But she always liked the beach. My mom.”

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”

He pulled himself off the doorframe and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Her last name is Madison now. And if you talk to my sister
…
” He thought for a long moment. “Just tell her I said hi.”

He shut the door before I could tell him that I would.

FIFTEEN

I plugged the name of the elementary school into the GPS and I was there four minutes later.

It was empty. I knew it would be. It was late in the afternoon and, as full of life as a school was during the day, it became a ghost town just as quickly.

But I wanted to see it.

The car idled at the curb, the heat buzzing softly, as I took it in.

Rectangle brick building. Asphalt parking lot filled with small potholes and cracks. A lonely swing set on a snow-covered blacktop. Monkey bars lined with more snow.

If I stared hard enough, I could see Elizabeth. Bundled up in a coat too big for her, a hat pulled down over her long blond hair, running around with bright red cheeks, smiling and laughing.

My heart ached and I knew if I sat there long enough, I’d never be able to leave. I’d get out and walk the playground and look for signs of her, no matter how illogical that was. I’d convince myself that I could find something that would lead me to her, find her, give her back to me.

And then when I couldn’t, I’d be paralyzed with fear and hurt and frustration.

It would be like losing her all over again.

My cell chirped and snapped me out of my reverie. I saw the name on the screen and grabbed it.

“Hey, Mike,” I said.

“Joe,” Mike Lorenzo said on the other end. “You in Minnesota?”

“I am.”

“You were fast.”

“No point in waiting, right?”

The question was rhetorical. Mike taught me everything good about being a cop. He’d taken it personally when Elizabeth disappeared and had spent nearly as much time searching for her as I had.

And he’d given me the picture.

“Any luck?” he asked.

I recounted what I’d learned in the short time I’d been in Minneapolis.

“I can start running names in Florida,” he said.

“That’d be great.”

“I assume that’ll be your next stop?”

“I’m gonna poke around here first,” I said. “I wanna see what else I can turn up. But yeah, eventually I’d like to go talk to the Detwiler girl.”

“Okay,” he said. “Makes sense.”

“The note you gave me with the picture,” I said. “Said you found it in a file. I
assume it
wasn’t in Elizabeth’s?”

“No.”

“Where was it, then?” I asked.

There was a pause. “I can’t recall specifics. I’ve got it around here somewhere. I’ll need to go pull it. Can’t remember off the top of my head what the case name was. Old age setting in, I guess.”

I bit back a smile. He was as sharp as ever, but a backload of work could fry anyone’s brain. “Whenever you get a chance.”

“Will do.”

He didn’t say anything and the silence was odd.

“You just checking in with me? Or something else?” I asked.

The line buzzed for a moment and he lowered his voice. “Something else.”

My heart sped up and my hand tightened on the phone.

“Things are a little weird around here,” he said.

“Where? Coronado?”

“No,” he said. “Well, yeah. At the station, I mean. The department.”

“Weird how?”

“Bazer brought you up the other day,” Mike said. “Wanted to know if I’d talked to you.”

Lieutenant Bazer was my old boss. The one who’d essentially forced me out and subtly cast suspicion in my direction to protect his department. I didn’t miss him.

“Why?” I asked. “He have something he needed to blame on me?”

Mike chuckled. “No. At least not that he said. He asked if I’d spoken to you. I was vague. He pressed.”

“So you told him I was up here?”

“Fuck no,” he said, chuckling again. “Told him I hadn’t talked to you.”

I smiled.

“He tried to play it off like he was just curious, but it had a weird feel, you know?” Mike said. “Just didn’t feel right. But then he didn’t follow up or anything, so I didn’t think much of it.”

“Okay.”

“So this morning, I go to his office. Needed to ask him something about a case. He’s not at his desk,” he said. “I go to leave him a note because he still won’t use email.”

I nodded, remembering his resistance to computers and technology.

“And your file was on his desk,” Mike said.

“Maybe he misses me.”

“We both know that’s not true,” Mike said. “It was just weird. Yesterday he asks me if I talked to you, then today I see the file on his desk. Clearly, he’s got you on the brain.”

Small snowflakes dotted the windshield and the heater continued to hum. I shifted in my seat.

“Maybe he’s just doing some maintenance,” I said. “Cleaning up old files, that kind of crap.”

“Maybe,” Mike said. “But then he wouldn’t have needed to ask me if I’d talked to you. Unless he really missed you.”

It was my turn to chuckle. “Right.”

“Anyway, I just thought it was odd,” Mike said. “And I wanted you to know.”

Most of the Coronado PD had distanced themselves from me the moment Bazer had hinted to the media that I might have something to do with Elizabeth’s disappearance. Mike never wavered. I was sure Bazer hated him for that but there was no way he could remove him from his job. He was too good and had been around too long. He probably just ignored him.

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“If I see anything else, I’ll let you know,” Mike said. “And I’ll get on the names in Florida today.”

I thanked him again and we hung up.

The snow blanketed the windshield and I hit the wipers to clear it. I turned down the heat, the air in the car heavy and warm.

I appreciated Mike’s call but I didn’t think there was as much to it as he did. Bazer was a control freak and the fact that I’d returned to Coronado probably rattled his cage more than he liked. Pretty sure he wasn’t happy that I’d even set foot on the island. To me, it just felt like he was checking to make sure I was gone, so he could relax and not worry about me stirring up things he didn’t want to remember. He was glad to be rid of me.

And I was glad to be rid of him.

SIXTEEN

It was too late in the day to do anything with the school. I wouldn’t be able to find anyone in the office or at a district office. I tried not to feel frustrated. Just because finding Elizabeth was my singular focus didn’t mean it was anyone else’s. There was no sense of urgency on anyone’s part but mine. There were other things going on, other things that took precedence.

So I had to wait.

I drove back to the apartment complex and got out of my car just as Isabel was pulling up. I walked toward her car and she glanced at me, still irritated.

“I need something to do,” I said.

“What?” she said. “You need to be entertained?”

“No,” I said. “I’ve done all I can do today on Elizabeth. I’m yours now.”

She stopped and brushed the snow from her face. “You have anything warmer to wear?”

“This is all I brought.”

She shook her head. “Follow me.”

I did and we went into the rental office. We walked passed the desk and down a back hall. She pulled out a set of keys and led me to a door at the end of the hall. She opened it.

“This is another apartment?” I asked, stepping in behind her.

“No,” she said. “It’s my apartment. Thirty-two steps from the front desk.”

I nodded and she disappeared down another hall. Her apartment was neat, well-kept. A small blue sofa and a rectangular coffee table occupied the living room. A small piano sat against one wall, a TV on top of a bookshelf on the other. A few Impressionist prints hung on the walls, their frames slightly askew. A small kitchen was tucked around the corner, a pine table set with lace placemats. The faint smell of lavender hung in the air.

She came back holding a heavier jacket and gloves. “Try these.”

I took off my coat and put on hers. It was a little big, but provided significantly more warmth. She handed me the gloves and I pulled them on.

“It’s going to be cold tonight,” she said. “I’ve got hand warmers, too, but I’ll wait to give you those later. You need a hat, too.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Spoken by someone who’s never been out late at night in a Minnesota winter,” she said, going over to a closet. She opened the door, rummaged for a moment, then tossed a red knit hat at me. “Wear it. You can thank me later.”

I pulled it on. She looked at me for a moment, then came over to me. She reached up and pulled it down a little lower.

“It’s your ears we’re looking to protect here,” she said. She stepped back. “That’ll work.”

“Are we going skiing or something?”

She snorted. “Hardly. We gotta go hand out blankets. And food. And clothes.”

“To who?”

She waved me back out the door. She closed it behind us and locked it. She turned back to me.

“To whoever we find,” she said.

SEVENTEEN

Our first stop was a storage shed about a mile from the complex.