“That’s agreeable,” said Branson, finally relenting. DiNolfo reached her hand out to shake the doctor’s hand.
“Thank you so much for your call. Now I can put her father’s mind at ease. I will return this evening, when the girl has had time to rest.”
Branson nodded as DiNolfo made a beeline to the pay phone in the hospital lobby.
*
Jack grabbed his khaki fall jacket off of the hook in the foyer and headed for the front door. A dark mood had taken over his mind as of late. As far as he was concerned, holding onto hope was nothing more than a fool’s errand. He wanted nothing more than for his daughter to be home again, where she belonged. But he watched the news. He knew that in most missing person’s cases, that if the missing wasn’t found within the first two days, it was likely that they would never be found at all. Jack stopped and shook his head.
No. I have to stop thinking like this. She must be found… She will be found… Wouldn’t she?
Even his stubborn sense of determination was second guessing him these days. Moira is right. I must keep busy.
He stepped onto the porch in the brisk autumn air. While his world had halted still, the real world had continued spinning on its axis. How did the world still turn, when something so central to his was gone? The birds still chirped in the apple trees, the cherry blossoms in the meadow still bloomed, the mail was still delivered and the world went on. That is when it dawned on him. The tiny little seed of hope that rested in his soul existed for a reason. She was still out there. She was a fighter. She stood up for what was right, and she would stand up for this. How could he not see this before? She would fight to get back here.
That little seed of hope was contagious. Once the cloud of doubt was lifted, Jack didn’t feel quite so helpless. He would find her, and he would bring her home. He didn’t know where she was, but he would scour every inch of the mountainside and beyond until he did. He couldn’t just leave this up to the police. It was a father’s duty to protect his children. He wasn’t about to let anyone tell him to take a back seat, even his own mother. He knew she meant well, but it just wasn’t in him to sit around and wait. He knew exactly what he had to do.
From behind Jack, the screen door creaked open and slammed shut as Moira came onto the porch.
“Jack… the phone, it’s for you. It’s that lady officer…” Jack’s heart stopped for a moment as he wondered whether it would be the good news he had been longing for since Tristan was first discovered missing, or the very news that would break his heart again.
*
DiNolfo slammed her laptop case onto her desk with a loud thud as Deputy Amos Cope gave her a nasty look from the other side of the room. She could hear Earl trudging up from the file room, the locked file room, with heavy footsteps, “I couldn’t retrieve the Benson file… She locked it.” As Earl reached the top step, his mouth was left gaping open, stunned to see his superior officer standing right in front of him.
“Now Earl… what on earth would you need with the Benson file?”
“I, um… I was checking into something for Deputy Cope,” said Earl with an innocent enough stare.
“Oh really?”
“Deputy Cope, what’s this all about? Why would you need a file that hasn’t been cracked since ’82?”
“I don’t know what he’s talking about…”
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me…” exclaimed DiNolfo.
“I am going to tell you two jackasses one last time, do not think that you are smarter than me. I could run circles around the two of you in my sleep. Now what the hell do you need the goddamn file for?!”
Her voice was raised, her eyes stern, and her demeanor utterly cold. She was quite intimidating to the two lame-witted deputies. They didn’t answer; just stared long and hard at their Sergeant. Shaking her head, she yelled at them once more, “Get out of my sight, and do something useful for a change! I will find out what you wanted with that file, and if it’s not on the up and up, you’re going to be two sorry sons of bitches!”
Quickly, they fled from the office, hoping to escape her wrath for the rest of the evening. After they had let the door slam behind them, DiNolfo screamed out, “Idiots!”
Scribbling on a yellow notepad on her desk, she reminded herself to pull the Benson file to see what was so important. That is when she saw her phone blinking rapidly, the red alert signaling that someone had left a message was flashing. She hoped it would be something useful.
DiNolfo grabbed the phone and pressed the angry red button, and waited patiently to hear what she predicted would be yet another prank call or conspiracy theorist.
The people in this town seriously need to get some hobbies, pronto.
A voice that she immediately recognized came over the line. She scrawled the information immediately on her yellow note pad. When she was finished she slammed the phone down, grabbed her coat, and drove to 10 Farringer Drive, to check if the anonymous tip held water.