He gave her his mobile number. She grabbed a few more details and then, seeing his growing impatience, Kat said, “And the problem is?”
“She’s missing.”
“When you say she’s missing, I’m not sure exactly what you mean.”
Brandon raised his eyebrows. “You don’t know what missing means?”
“No, I mean . . .” She shook her head. “Okay, let’s start with this: How long has she been missing?”
“Three days.”
“So why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“Mom said she was going on a trip with her boyfriend.”
“Right.”
“But I don’t think she did. I called her cell. She didn’t answer.”
Kat tried not to frown. For this she was missing lunch at the Carlyle? “Where was she going?”
“Someplace in the Caribbean.”
“Where?”
“She said it was going to be a surprise.”
“Maybe the phone service is bad.”
He frowned. “I don’t think so.”
“Or maybe she’s busy.”
“She said she’d at least text me every day.” Then, seeing the look on her face, Brandon added, “We don’t do that normally. But this was her first time going away since Dad died.”
“Did you try calling the hotel?”
“I told you. She didn’t say where she was staying.”
“And you never asked?”
He shrugged again. “I figured we’d just text or whatever.”
“Have you tried contacting her boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know him. They started dating when I went to college.”
“Where do you go to school?”
“I’m at UConn. What difference does that make?”
Fair point. “I’m just trying to put this together, okay? When did your mom start dating this guy?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t share that kind of stuff with me.”
“But she told you she was going away with him?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“When did she tell me they were going away?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know. A week ago, I guess. Look, could you just look into it? Please?”
Kat stared at him. He flinched. “Brandon?”
“Yes?”
“What’s going on here?”
His reply surprised her. “You really don’t know?”
“No.”
Brandon looked at her skeptically.
“Yo, Donovan?”
Kat turned toward the familiar voice. Captain Stagger stood by the stairway. “My office,” he said.
“I’m in the middle of—”
“This won’t take long.”
His tone left no room for debate. Kat looked at Brandon. “Wait here a second, okay?”
Brandon looked off, nodded.
Kat rose. Stagger hadn’t waited for her. Kat hurried down the stairs and followed him into his office. Stagger closed the door behind her. He didn’t circle back to his desk or delay.
“Monte Leburne died this morning.”
She slumped against the wall. “Damn.”
“Well, that’s not exactly my reaction, but I thought you’d want to know.”
For the past two weeks, she had tried repeatedly to get close to him again. It hadn’t worked. Now time had run out. “Thanks.”
The two of them stood there awkwardly for a few moments.
“Anything else?” Kat asked.
“No. I just thought you’d want to know.”
“I appreciate it.”
“I assume you’ve been investigating what he said.”
“I have, yes.”
“And?”
“And nothing, Captain,” Kat said. “I’ve found nothing.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay, you can go.”
She started for the door. “Is there going to be a funeral?”
“What, for Leburne?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“No reason.”
Or maybe there was. Leburne had a family. They’d changed names and moved out of state, but maybe they’d be interested in the remains. Maybe they’d know something. Maybe, now that dear Monte was dead, they’d want to prove his innocence, at least in one case.
Long shot.
Kat headed out of Stagger’s office, trying to sort through her feelings. She just felt numb. So much of her life felt like unanswered questions. She was a cop. She liked closed cases. Something bad happened. You figure out who did it and why. You don’t get all the answers. But you get enough.
Her own life suddenly felt like one giant open case. She hated that.
Didn’t matter. She could have her little pity party later. Right now, she had to get back and concentrate on Brandon and his missing-mom case. But when she got back up to her floor, the chair in front of her desk was empty. She sat, figuring that maybe the kid had gone to the bathroom or something, when she spotted the note:
HAD TO GO. PLEASE FIND MY MOM. YOU HAVE MY PHONE IF YOU NEED TO REACH ME.—BRANDON
She read the note again. Something about the whole thing—the missing mom, seeking Kat out specifically, all of it really—felt more than wrong. She was missing something here. Kat took a look at her notes.
Dana Phelps.
What harm could it do to take a quick look into the name?
Her desk phone trilled. She picked it up and said, “Donovan.”
“Hey, Kat.” It was Chris Harrop from Corrections. “Sorry it took so long to get back to you, but like I said, the logs aren’t computerized and I had to send a man up to the warehouse in Albany. And then, well, I had to wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“Your boy Monte Leburne to die. It is complicated but basically showing you this could be a violation of his rights unless he waives them or you get a court order, blah, blah, you know the deal. But now that he’s dead . . .”
“You have the list?”
“I do.”
“Could you fax it to me?”
“Fax? What is this, 1996? How about I send it to you via Telex? It’s in an e-mail. I just sent it. Besides, there’s nothing on it that’s going to help you.”
“What do you mean?”
“The day you asked for, the only person who visited him was his attorney, a guy named Alex Khowaylo.”
“That’s it?”
“She’s missing.”
“When you say she’s missing, I’m not sure exactly what you mean.”
Brandon raised his eyebrows. “You don’t know what missing means?”
“No, I mean . . .” She shook her head. “Okay, let’s start with this: How long has she been missing?”
“Three days.”
“So why don’t you tell me what happened?”
“Mom said she was going on a trip with her boyfriend.”
“Right.”
“But I don’t think she did. I called her cell. She didn’t answer.”
Kat tried not to frown. For this she was missing lunch at the Carlyle? “Where was she going?”
“Someplace in the Caribbean.”
“Where?”
“She said it was going to be a surprise.”
“Maybe the phone service is bad.”
He frowned. “I don’t think so.”
“Or maybe she’s busy.”
“She said she’d at least text me every day.” Then, seeing the look on her face, Brandon added, “We don’t do that normally. But this was her first time going away since Dad died.”
“Did you try calling the hotel?”
“I told you. She didn’t say where she was staying.”
“And you never asked?”
He shrugged again. “I figured we’d just text or whatever.”
“Have you tried contacting her boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know him. They started dating when I went to college.”
“Where do you go to school?”
“I’m at UConn. What difference does that make?”
Fair point. “I’m just trying to put this together, okay? When did your mom start dating this guy?”
“I don’t know. She doesn’t share that kind of stuff with me.”
“But she told you she was going away with him?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“When did she tell me they were going away?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know. A week ago, I guess. Look, could you just look into it? Please?”
Kat stared at him. He flinched. “Brandon?”
“Yes?”
“What’s going on here?”
His reply surprised her. “You really don’t know?”
“No.”
Brandon looked at her skeptically.
“Yo, Donovan?”
Kat turned toward the familiar voice. Captain Stagger stood by the stairway. “My office,” he said.
“I’m in the middle of—”
“This won’t take long.”
His tone left no room for debate. Kat looked at Brandon. “Wait here a second, okay?”
Brandon looked off, nodded.
Kat rose. Stagger hadn’t waited for her. Kat hurried down the stairs and followed him into his office. Stagger closed the door behind her. He didn’t circle back to his desk or delay.
“Monte Leburne died this morning.”
She slumped against the wall. “Damn.”
“Well, that’s not exactly my reaction, but I thought you’d want to know.”
For the past two weeks, she had tried repeatedly to get close to him again. It hadn’t worked. Now time had run out. “Thanks.”
The two of them stood there awkwardly for a few moments.
“Anything else?” Kat asked.
“No. I just thought you’d want to know.”
“I appreciate it.”
“I assume you’ve been investigating what he said.”
“I have, yes.”
“And?”
“And nothing, Captain,” Kat said. “I’ve found nothing.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay, you can go.”
She started for the door. “Is there going to be a funeral?”
“What, for Leburne?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“No reason.”
Or maybe there was. Leburne had a family. They’d changed names and moved out of state, but maybe they’d be interested in the remains. Maybe they’d know something. Maybe, now that dear Monte was dead, they’d want to prove his innocence, at least in one case.
Long shot.
Kat headed out of Stagger’s office, trying to sort through her feelings. She just felt numb. So much of her life felt like unanswered questions. She was a cop. She liked closed cases. Something bad happened. You figure out who did it and why. You don’t get all the answers. But you get enough.
Her own life suddenly felt like one giant open case. She hated that.
Didn’t matter. She could have her little pity party later. Right now, she had to get back and concentrate on Brandon and his missing-mom case. But when she got back up to her floor, the chair in front of her desk was empty. She sat, figuring that maybe the kid had gone to the bathroom or something, when she spotted the note:
HAD TO GO. PLEASE FIND MY MOM. YOU HAVE MY PHONE IF YOU NEED TO REACH ME.—BRANDON
She read the note again. Something about the whole thing—the missing mom, seeking Kat out specifically, all of it really—felt more than wrong. She was missing something here. Kat took a look at her notes.
Dana Phelps.
What harm could it do to take a quick look into the name?
Her desk phone trilled. She picked it up and said, “Donovan.”
“Hey, Kat.” It was Chris Harrop from Corrections. “Sorry it took so long to get back to you, but like I said, the logs aren’t computerized and I had to send a man up to the warehouse in Albany. And then, well, I had to wait.”
“Wait for what?”
“Your boy Monte Leburne to die. It is complicated but basically showing you this could be a violation of his rights unless he waives them or you get a court order, blah, blah, you know the deal. But now that he’s dead . . .”
“You have the list?”
“I do.”
“Could you fax it to me?”
“Fax? What is this, 1996? How about I send it to you via Telex? It’s in an e-mail. I just sent it. Besides, there’s nothing on it that’s going to help you.”
“What do you mean?”
“The day you asked for, the only person who visited him was his attorney, a guy named Alex Khowaylo.”
“That’s it?”
