“He could be visiting family he doesn’t like much, or here on business or something.”
“We have the bed and breakfast and the motel out by the interstate. He’s not at the B&B, or I would’ve heard by now. Plus, don’t you know anytime there’s a visitor, we have to show them the city hall and the library and the diner and all, and parade them around like show dogs cause we got somebody to come here for a change?” Rachel joked.
“Okay, okay. So maybe he’s a serial killer who hunts for his next victim in rural diners and only orders the special,” I said.
“No more crime docs for you. Ugh. Now I’m not gonna sleep.”
“Whatever, get to work. I’m heading home. I have to email my sizes for uniforms and shoes to Mrs. Rook at the station.”
“If they ask for your bra size, it’s a trick. Brody probably just wants to know.”
“I’m a 34C. Feel free to spread the word,” I laughed.
6
Brody
A phone call at three in the morning was never good news. I rubbed my eyes and blinked at the lock, groping for my phone on the nightstand.
“Brody here,” I said, clearing my throat.
“Chief, this is Heather at Dispatch. I hate to bother you this time of night, but Carl called in something I knew you’d want to know about.”
“What’s up?” I said, sitting up in bed, rubbing a hand over my face. Carl was my officer on duty that night, and if he called in, it was more than one man could handle.
“Becky Simms is missing. Her mama called and talked to Carl. He went over there, and there’s just no sign of her. Looks like she was studying at a friend’s house and was supposed to be home by midnight or something, and she never turned up.”
“Thanks, I’ll be out there soon. Tell Carl I’ll meet up with him at the station later and get up to speed.”
I jumped in the shower and threw on some clothes. I grabbed a protein bar and my holster and headed to the Simms house. I didn’t know them well, but I knew enough about the kid to know she was on the straight and narrow. She wasn’t one to run off like this, and something didn’t feel right about it. I knew I’d read about her in the local paper getting some award at honor’s night last spring at the high school. Her parents had to be beside themselves, and I knew my presence would reassure them. If your kid goes missing, you’d want the whole force on it and the top guy gathering the evidence. I could do that much for them.
The tidy split level off Walnut Street had all the outside lights on. I pulled in the driveway. Patrick Simms and his wife Kayla were out the door in a flash. She turned to shoo the younger brother back inside. They both had faces pale and drawn with worry, and she kept tightening the belt on her bathrobe.
“Thank you for coming, Chief. We just—” she faltered, and her husband put an arm around her.
“Becky never takes off like this,” Patrick Simms offered, “it’s not like her at all. I don’t know what to make of it. Can you put out an Amber Alert?”
“Well, Pat, how old is she?”
“Eighteen last month.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t. She’s a legal adult. She hasn’t been gone long enough to file a missing person’s report, but that doesn’t mean we’re not going to go ahead and do everything in our power to find your daughter. Rockford Falls may be a little town, but we take care of our own. Paperwork isn’t gonna block us from putting all available men on this. Now I need you to help me out.”
“Anything,” he said.
“Does she have a boyfriend? Anybody maybe you didn’t want her seeing anymore?”
“No,” Kayla said, “she was seeing a boy, but they broke up a couple of weeks ago. She hasn’t been seeing anybody new. She’s got a chemistry test tomorrow. It’s a midterm. She wants to be a radiology tech,” Kayla said. “She can’t miss the test.” She sniffed and I felt for her then. The fact her kid was gone, could be dead by now, and she knew she was supposed to take a big science test the next day. That it wasn’t fair, and that kid should be in the classroom ready to ace her exam, not God knows where with some asshole ex. Sure, it could be a stranger that picked her up, some CNN story waiting to happen about human trafficking coming to a small town. But odds were it had to do with the boyfriend. If there was an ex in the picture, that’s usually where the needle pointed in the end—some little prick that couldn’t handle getting dumped.
I asked a few questions about her friends and her daily routine. I got them talking about her class schedule and about the Harry Styles concert tickets she got for her birthday.