*
I arrived at the farm to find that Tomasetti caught three decent-size bass earlier and cleaned them for dinner. Over fresh fish, we shared half a bottle of chardonnay and exchanged stories about our day. He’s working on a missing-person case up in Geauga County, the outlook of which doesn’t look good for the missing man. Painters Mill has been quiet, so over raspberry sherbet, I updated him on the Baby Doe case. It was nearly midnight when we went to bed.
I’m wakened from a fitful slumber by the cheep of my cell phone. Only half awake, I snatch it up and squint down at the lighted face. Painters Mill PD.
“Hey, Mona,” I grumble to my third-shift dispatcher.
“Chief, I just took a call from Damon Atherton. His daughter is missing. He’s worried she’s going to hurt herself.”
The words bring me bolt upright. “She’s suicidal?”
“I guess they had some kind of an argument. She got upset. When he went to check on her, she was gone.”
Rising, I pad to my closet, swing open the door. “Where is Dr. Atherton now?”
“Home.”
“Call him and tell him to stay put. I’m on my way.” I hit End, step into my trousers, and pull on my uniform shirt.
The light flicks on. I glance over to see Tomasetti rise and reach for his clothes. “Where are we going?” he asks.
I tell him about Chloe going missing.
“That’s the girl you believe is the mother of Baby Doe?”
I nod. “I saw her earlier and she was scared, wouldn’t admit to anything. I didn’t push because I was hoping she’d come in on her own.” I finish buttoning my shirt, yank my jacket off a hanger. “Her father thinks she might be a danger to herself.”
Muttering a curse, he reaches for his coat. “Let’s go.”
The night is moonless and windy. The trees shake their fists at me as I fly down a backstreet toward Main. Leaves scramble across the road in the beam of my headlights as I speed toward the Maple Crest subdivision. Two minutes later, I pull in to Atherton’s driveway and park behind his Land Rover. The porch light is on. The front door stands open, yellow light pouring out. Atherton is standing in the entryway, dressed, his smartphone pressed against his ear.
Tomasetti and I disembark simultaneously and jog to the house. “Any sign of her?” I ask when we reach him.
The doctor’s hair is mussed. His shirt is untucked on one side. His hands shake when he drops the phone into his jacket pocket. “I searched the house twice. Her car is gone. Phone is gone. She’s not answering.”
“You had an argument?” I ask.
He sighs, nods. “I’m not sure what’s going on with her. We were talking about Phoenix. She got upset. Started to cry. Things escalated, so I sent her to her room to cool off.” He shrugs. “When I went to check on her later, she was gone.”
“How long ago?” Tomasetti asks.
“Twenty minutes.”
“Any idea where she is?” I ask. “Best friend’s house? Boyfriend’s place, maybe?”
“I don’t know.” He chokes out the words, his face crumbling. “I should know, but I don’t. What the hell kind of dad doesn’t know who his kid’s friends are?”
I touch his arm, not only to reassure, but to keep him focused. “What kind of vehicle does she drive?”
“A 2016 Mustang GT. Red. I bought it for her for her sixteenth birthday.”
I hit my lapel mike and put out a BOLO for Chloe and her car, with the added code for missing endangered. Then I turn my attention to Atherton. “You stated to the dispatcher that you believe Chloe may be a danger to herself?”
He stares at me, eyes wide and blinking, but his thoughts seem to turn inward. “She’s been … depressed recently. ained a lot of weight since her mom passed away. A couple weeks ago she actually said, ‘I wish I was dead.’” He rubs a hand over his face. “I thought she was just acting out. You know, the pressure related to the move to Phoenix. School. Grades. The usual stuff teenagers face. And I know she’s been missing her mom.”
“Her mother passed away?” Tomasetti asks.
“A year ago,” he says. “Breast cancer.” He looks down, then back at me. “I’ve been so tied up with work. So … damn blind. I should have seen this coming. I should have—” He bites off the word as if he doesn’t know how to finish.
“We’ve got a BOLO out for her. Agent Tomasetti and I are going to get out there, too, and look for her.” I pause. “Dr. Atherton, this may or may not be related, but it may help us find her and maybe fill in some of the blanks as far as her recent behavior, so I’m just going to lay it out for you. I’m not certain, but I have reason to believe Chloe may be the woman who abandoned Baby Doe.”
“Wh—what?” He chokes out a sound that’s part laugh, part sob. “But … that’s not possible. She hasn’t been dating regularly. How could she…? She doesn’t even have a boyfriend. For God’s sake—”