“We’ll find her. We know a whole lot more than when we started.” It didn’t escape Janie’s notice that she was saying “we,” speaking almost as if she was his partner.
She sure didn’t want to be a cop.
So what did she want?
She hurried to speak again before an answer she wasn’t ready for occurred to her.
“You mentioned that missing-persons cases are your specialty.”
“I don’t remember saying that, but they are the ones that keep me up at night. And, funny, it doesn’t matter the age of the missing person. About a year ago, we had a ninety-year-old woman wander off. She was missing for two days before we found her.”
“I remember. She’d gotten on a bus and somehow made her way to New Mexico before someone realized she really had no destination and no more money.”
“For two days, I didn’t sleep. I did for her exactly what I did for Brittney. I interviewed all her friends. I walked the streets near where she lived. I visited her doctors. When the police in Albuquerque called, I’m the one who drove to get her.”
“I had no idea you did all of that.”
He was silent for a moment, then blurted, “Somewhere I may have an older brother.”
“I thought you were an only child.” She recalled the pictures in his office. There was one baby photo, dead center on a shelf. She’d assumed it was Rafe. In some of the photos, he’d been standing by other men, but if he had a brother, he’d have mentioned the man, or Katie would have. She didn’t go a day without sharing something about Rafe with Katie.
“No, my older brother is missing.”
Janie had no idea what to say to that. It made sense, though. She remembered that first day in his office, when he’d pulled a stack of missing person fliers from his top desk drawer. There’d been something poignant in the way he’d held them.
“My mom had trouble conceiving. She’d about given up. Then she got pregnant at age forty. This made her high risk, so she was supposed to go into Phoenix to have a C-section. Her blood pressure had shot up.”
“You seem to know the story well.”
“I’ve heard it a million times.”
“So, what happened?”
“They, my dad and her, only made it to Gesippi. If anything, their hospital is even smaller than the one in Scorpion Ridge. It would have been better to go to Adobe Hills.”
Janie wasn’t sure if he was comparing the quality of the hospitals, or commenting on what happened next.
“They had a record number of babies born that day. Three. They usually average three a year. It’s that small a town. Plus, many there prefer to go to the big city. In one Scottsdale hospital, they even have a spa for new mothers.”
“They probably didn’t back then,” Janie pointed out.
“No, and thirty-six years ago we didn’t have safeguards in place like we do today. When my brother was two days old, someone dressed as a nurse came into my mother’s room, took Ramon, and left. All we have is a picture taken a few hours after his birth. We’ve done age progression, but the FBI closed the case years ago.”