Rick Mofina - They Disappeared

Jeff swallowed.

“What about my wife and son? Can I see them?”

“It’s not them,” Brewer said.

“It’s not them?” Jeff absorbed the news.

“The medical examiner just confirmed the remains belong to two adult males. We’re still working on identifying them.”

“What the hell is this? You show me my son’s cap, you lead me to believe my family’s dead, you accuse me of planning this whole thing. What is this?”

“It’s part of an investigation,” Brewer said.

Jeff pulled himself up to face Brewer.

“This some kind of sick joke for you, you prick?” Jeff said.

Brewer stood his ground and Cordelli inserted himself between them to dial down the tension.

“Come on, Jeff.” Cordelli put his hand on his shoulder. “Let’s grab a coffee and I’ll take you back to your hotel.”

In midtown Manhattan, not far from the Long Island Rail Road maintenance yards, where Thirty-third Street rolled down an industrial no-man’s-land to the Hudson, there was a twenty-four-hour diner called the Terminal Cafe.

Cops liked it because it was quiet and out of the way, Cordelli told Jeff after they’d taken a booth.

The soft clink of cutlery floated on air thick with the aroma of onions and fried bacon. A bullnecked man with a brush cut and white apron came to their table. Cordelli got a coffee.

Jeff wanted nothing.

The man left and Cordelli looked at Jeff.

“You have every right to be pissed off.”

“Don’t tell me how I should feel.”

Cordelli’s coffee came; he dripped some cream in it.

“About ten years ago in East Harlem, a mother reported her five-year-old son abducted. Brewer caught the case. She gave a description of a suspect. She had everybody going in a million directions for four days until a janitor found the kid’s body bound under a storage room staircase.

“The M.E. said the boy had been abused and was actually alive for two days bound under those stairs. Ultimately, evidence pointed to the mother but Brewer never, ever forgave himself for not going harder on her because he could’ve saved the boy.

“That’s Brewer. Since then he doesn’t trust anyone. That’s all of us, really. Everyone’s a suspect. People lie all the time. We see horrible things, it hardens you.”

Jeff gazed out the window, across the Hudson at the lights of New Jersey, his emotions roiling.

“What’s this got to do with me? What are you doing to find my family besides wasting time by dragging me through your police bullshit?”

“We’re working with the FBI and every police jurisdiction in New York, New Jersey and Connecticut. And we’re putting out an alert tonight with pictures and information. By morning, everyone in Greater New York will be looking for Sarah and Cole.”

Cordelli’s response gave Jeff a measure of assurance, but disbelief and fear twisted in his gut.

“There’s a double homicide in the SUV, my wife and son are missing-I deserve to know more. What else do you know?”

“We think Cole’s ball cap came off when they moved to a switch vehicle.”

“But why take Cole and Sarah? They’re from Montana. How is this connected to Brewer’s operation and his task force, what is it?”

“The investigation is tight.”

“Meaning?”

“No one will tell me much yet but that will change.”

“This is bureaucratic bullshit! Is Brewer’s operation more important than my family’s life?”

“No, it’s not like that. We’re sorting everything out but our case will get rolled into his. Brewer is the lead on a major undercover operation that’s been ongoing with about twelve local, state, federal and international agencies looking into organized crime.”

“What kind? Drugs, human trafficking? I told you guys I haven’t gotten any ransom demands. Sarah would’ve given them my cell number.”

“The task force is investigating organized crime and ties to global networks. That’s all I’ve got so far.”

“So Sarah and Cole’s abduction could be connected to anything. I read a news story about people in South America being abducted for their organs. Christ.” Jeff ran his hand over his face, shaking his head.

“Don’t do that. You’ll make yourself crazy imagining the worst scenarios.”

“The worst? It can’t get much worse than it is now!”

“Look, Jeff, we’ll concentrate on what we know. We’ll do all we can to build on it and work with Brewer because we need one another’s help on this. We’ve got the alert, we’re processing the SUV. We’re going flat out.”

Jeff took in a long breath.

“I’ll update you on everything that I can tell you.”

Jeff nodded.

“Meantime, promise me no more amateur detective work.”

“I’ll keep looking for them. That’s my promise. You would do the same and you know it.”

Cordelli’s pause confirmed Jeff’s point.

“I’ll drive you back to your hotel.” Cordelli reached for his phone. “I’ll have one of our people bunk with you and put uniforms at your hotel.”

“Why?”

“It’s what we do.”

“No, I don’t want that. I’m not afraid of these assholes. Don’t waste people on me. Put them on the street looking for Sarah and Cole. You’ve got the phone clone thing, so if I get a call, you guys get it at the same time.”

Cordelli considered the need to man Jeff’s hotel at this stage.

“You want me to set up anything with our support services? Want a shrink?”

Jeff shook his head.

“I don’t need anything like that.”

As they drove across midtown at night, a marked NYPD patrol unit stopped them at an intersection that was being blocked off. Cordelli tapped his horn and a uniform came to their car. Cordelli showed his detective’s badge.

“Sorry, Detective, you gotta wait. Rules are rules.”

Several minutes later the wail of sirens, the growl of police motorcycles, preceded the gleaming escort units of a VIP motorcade streaking by.

“Freakin’ UN meeting,” Cordelli muttered, waving to the cop who let him pass. “Yeah, yeah.” Cordelli maneuvered through the intersection. They went another ten blocks before they stopped in front of the Central Suites Inn on West Twenty-ninth.

Jeff didn’t move.

“You okay to go in?” Cordelli asked.

“No, but I’m going in.”

“Just take it easy. Keep your cell phone charged. You can call me at any hour. Try to get some rest. I’ll see you soon.”

After Jeff got out and Cordelli drove off he stood alone in the street.

He stared at the hotel’s entrance for a long, difficult moment as if watching a part of his life replay itself. It was only hours earlier that he’d walked through that lobby with Cole and Sarah, never dreaming that he would be walking back through it without them.

Manhattan, New York City

Jeff entered his hotel alone.

He kept telling himself this was not a dream, they were not out sightseeing or shopping and he would not meet up with them later.

Two murders, my God.

Reality stabbed at him with such ferocity he stopped to steady himself against a wingback chair. But the world still turned, evening life in the lobby was normal. With his pulse throbbing Jeff forced himself to stay calm and breathe evenly as he approached the girl at the front desk.

“Yes, sir?”

“Any messages for Griffin in 1212?”

Her name tag said Micki. She typed rapidly on her keyboard.

“Nothing, sir.” She smiled.

Jeff noticed a small spike with paper messages near her keyboard.

“What about those?”

“They’re old ones that have been relayed and entered into our system. Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?”