Rick Mofina - Six Seconds

“Doesn’t ring any bells. What’s the insurance part?”

“The death benefit is large, so I’m checking back ground.”

“Right, like maybe the dad did it? Or had help, since you haven’t found him. Maybe he’ll stumble out of the woods to collect?”

“Or maybe someone killed them.”

“What’s your evidence?”

“A lot of circumstance and a gut feeling.”

“Not the best ammunition for court. Is that what brought you here?”

“The dad was a reporter, a bit of an oddball who chased wild conspiracy theories. The Conlins’ name and address in Blue Rose Creek came up in his files. The reporter may have been onto a big plot story at the time his family died in the mountains. This Iraq thing is new to me. What do you know about Jake Conlin’s time there?”

“Not much. It was dangerous. He drove in supply convoys that often came under fire. What was the reporter’s plot story?”

“It was vague about a terror group developing a new weapon.”

“Really. Like what? A dirty bomb or something? We’re boarding now, I gotta hang up.”

“I don’t know. Could’ve been a fantasy he was chasing.”

“Did you pass what you have to the security people in D. C, Homeland, the FBI, let them connect the dots and figure it out?”

“There’s a Secret Service agent the reporter was in touch with. I’ve been talking to him.”

“Look, Graham, you give me your word that if you find anything you keep me in the loop.”

“I will.”

“I’ll do the same. I’m not sure what we can do, but I’ll help where I can, just call. I gotta go.”

The line went dead.

When Graham turned to go back into the hospital, a pock-faced girl with braces, wearing a white lab coat with a name tag that said, Hayley, Student Social Worker, was waiting for him.

“Excuse me, Corporal Graham?”

“Yes.”

“The officer who brought Maggie Conlin in?”

“That’s right.”

“She’s awake and wants to talk to you.”

Blue Rose Creek, California

As Hayley led Graham to Maggie’s room, his cell phone vibrated.

Caller ID indicated it was his boss.

“Hold up, Hayley, I have to take a call.”

He stepped back outside and answered.

“What’re you doing in California, Corporal?”

“Following the case.”

“I never authorized you to travel there.”

“I got a strong lead on the last thing Tarver wrote in his journal. Let me give you a case status report.”

“No. I’ll update you. First, you piss off the Secret Service in Washington telling an agent he’s a suspect.”

“We cleared that up.”

“Don’t interrupt. Then you fly to California without my knowledge or authorization. Imagine my delight to be surprised with a call from a Captain Emillio Sanchez of the county sheriff’s department. It seems a Detective Vic Thompson complained that you’d exceeded your ju risdiction and broke into a house to question someone.”

“That’s wrong. I arrived to find my subject had over dosed. I’m at the hospital about to interview her. And I spoke with Thompson. We straightened it out.”

“Well, your assignment down there is over.”

“Over? Why?”

“We’ve found Tarver.”

“What?”

“A couple of boys at a Bible camp way downriver found him this morning washed up against the rocks. The body was in bad shape. Found his wallet on him. So get yourself home, do the paperwork and clear this thing.”

“Wait. We’re going to autopsy Tarver, right?”

“Just as soon as we can. We’ve got other cases. Got to autopsy a woman and her baby killed in a ranch fire outside Pincher Creek. We suspect her husband shot them before torching the place. After them, the M.E. will process Tarver, confirm his ID. This Tarver thing is looking like what we suspected. The D.C. reporter and his family died in a mountain accident. End of story.”

“That’s it?”

“Look, you had a good hunch and I let you follow up on it. Turns out it was a goose chase. Now, we need you back here.”

A few seconds of silence passed between them without Graham’s response.

“Dan?”

“Give me a day or so to wrap some things up, all right?”

“Wrap it up and get back here, ASAP. That’s an order. No more surprises.”

The call ended.

That was it.

Graham ran his hand over his face.

Was he right to pursue this the way he did? To the point that he’d stepped into a domestic whirlwind with a parental abduction and a near suicide. Had he let emotion and speculation serve as substitutes for evidence? In reality, a lot of threads never made sense in a case.

In life, we never get all of our questions answered.

But he was convinced the facts in this case just didn’t add up.

It didn’t matter now. It was over.

Graham noticed Hayley waiting a respectful distance away. He gave her a little smile. Might as well wrap things up. Check in on Maggie. Say hello and goodbye. Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans for his leather-bound notebook, he joined Hayley and she escorted him to Maggie’s room.

A nurse was standing at Maggie’s bed, reviewing a chart. Graham introduced himself, showed his ID. The doctors had already cleared him to visit.

“I’d like to talk to Officer Graham alone, please,” Maggie said.

After the nurse and Hayley left, Graham sat in the chair next to Maggie. Her skin was pale, raw. Her reddened eyes reflected her anguish. Her knuckles whitened as she clenched and unclenched a tissue she held in her fist.

“They said that I would’ve died if you hadn’t found me.” A fragile smile flashed. “Thank you for saving my life.”

He nodded.

“I guess they told you a bit about my situation,” she said.

“A bit.”

Graham summarized what he’d learned from Detec tive Thompson, then Maggie told him the rest, ending with questions.

“Why did you come all this way to my house? Does it have something to do with my husband and son?”

“I’m not sure. Do you know of a reporter from Wash ington, D.C., named Ray Tarver?”

“A reporter in Washington? No. Has this got some thing to do with Jake?”

“I don’t know.”

Graham told her only what he could about the Tarvers, starting with the tragedy in the mountains. Maggie brushed away more tears. Then Graham ex plained how his discovery of Jake and Maggie’s name and address in Tarver’s notes led him to California.

“I needed to talk to you, to Jake, to see what the connection might be. What do you know about your husband’s time in Iraq?”

Maggie thought for a moment.

“Sometimes his convoys came under fire. Some thing happened to him over there, but he refused to talk about it. He had nightmares, he brooded and there was the outburst.”

“What do you know about the types of missions he drove on?”

“Nothing. He never talked about it the whole time he was back. And, as far as I know, nothing got in the press. He was damaged when he came home, he was withdrawn, mistrustful. Not the same man. It took a toll on me and Logan.”

Maggie stared at the ceiling looking for the rest of the words.

“We tried hard to work things out. Now he’s gone. He took Logan and now I have no one. I have nothing. It’s like they died.”

Maggie’s whispered voice cracked.

“I just want to find them. I need to find them.” “I know.”

“Help me, please.”

“Help you?”

“Help me find my son and husband.”

“Me? But I can’t get involved. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“ You found me. You came all the way from that river in the mountains and you found me. Please.” “I’m sorry.”