Page 20 of Find Me

“Too soon to tell,” he said. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something in the back of his mind was tugging at him. He pushed the nagging feeling away, knowing his job would be a whole lot easier if Alex Lopez was just another drowning victim.

15

Monday, June 21, 5:38 p.m.

Ellie had just stepped out of the precinct when her cell phone rang. The screen read Uncle Steve. Steve Thompson, her father’s former partner.

“Hey, Steve. You get anything?” He had been the second person she called after meeting with Lindsay Kelly that morning. He had retired from the WPD years ago, accepting a job as the on-site head of security for LockeHome, the largest home improvement retailer in the United States, headquartered in little old Wichita, Kansas. Whereas most cops in Kansas retired for good, or kept a small side hustle working security at concerts and sporting events, Steve was living the dream of a full-blown double-dipper, pulling in a healthy six-figure salary on top of his pension.

“A little, but it’s not too late to stay out of the rabbit hole,” Steve warned. “I lived there myself a long time, but no one got sucked in worse than your dad. I was pretty worried about you, too, not all that long ago.”

Like Ellie’s father, Steve had been a member of the College Hill Strangler task force. Unlike her father, he had been able to move onafter the case seemingly went cold and the task force was disbanded. While her father was slowly sidelined to less important cases, Steve went on to become the department’s most prolific homicide detective. After her father’s suicide, Steve filled the void as well as he could, acting as an honorary uncle.

“I need to know,” she said. “If there’s any chance at all. I fought to have those samples added to the DNA database. I didn’t do all of that for nothing.”

“The sample that got a hit was blood on the edge of a sofa cushion in Janice Beale’s living room. I remember when your dad spotted the stain. I don’t think I would’ve caught it. More like a little smudge—could have been makeup, food, or a dog’s butt print until the labs came back. That’s all I got.”

“And what are they doing about it?”

“Other than getting annoyed with me for calling? And saying they-told-you-so about dumping every last bit of trace DNA evidence into the database? Jack squat. Or if they’re working the case, they’re not going to tell a private security guy like me.”

Steve was sometimes apologetic for his fancy corporate gig, but it had been a natural transition. He’d gotten to know the Lockes personally after the family’s son-in-law was shot to death in his driveway and Steve was assigned to the case. Fortunately, Steve’s reputation within the department was rock solid. If they were following up on the blood match, they would tell him.

“Why am I the only one who thinks this needs an explanation?” she asked.

“Look, there’s a certain risk to DNA testing being as good as it is now. You touch a doorknob, and ten years later, they can pick up the DNA. That little smudge on the sofa wasn’t enough to pull DNA from at the time. It was only when they went retesting everything with new technology after Summer’s arrest that they got it. And then you and your mom had them dump all that into the database as a condition tosettling. And that was your right, granted, and you were looking out for Jerry—”

“But now you can understand why the cops there are saying ‘I told you so.’”

“People move around, Ellie, especially from Wichita, as you and Jess certainly know. Sometimes it feels like the highways here only run one way. Your DNA was probably all over other people’s houses when you were kids, and now it’s all over New York City—especially your brother’s, if I had to guess.”

She found herself smiling. She only talked to Steve a few times a year, plus the occasional quick text message, but he sent them overly generous Christmas checks when he got a good bonus at work, and sometimes he’d even tack on a side trip to New York when he visited his brother in Boston. Like the best kinds of aunts and uncles, Steve was often more willing to see and to accept imperfections in Jess and Ellie than were their own parents. When Jess got caught smoking pot in the alley behind the high school, Steve vouched for him to the school resource officer, saving him from a drug bust. He gave Jess the required lecture, but never told their mother about it.

“Speaking of which...” She’d turned the corner to spot a familiar silhouette leaning against the brick exterior of Plug Uglies. From the ground up: black ankle boots, black jeans, black Clash T-shirt, cigarette in mouth. Jess, her first call after seeing Lindsay today. “I’m about to meet him.”

“Tell him I said rock on.”

“I will, and I’ll keep you posted if I find anything new.”

“And vice versa. Your dad would be damn proud of you, Ellie. Both of you.”

Jess greeted her with a nod and a smoke-filled exhale.

“What happened to the Nicorette?” she asked. Her big brother hadstarted smoking—to her knowledge, at least—when he was fourteen. A quarter century or so later, he was still at it.

“That you decided to buy for me, even though I would have preferred a pack of Camels? Gave them to Darla.”

“And who pray tell is Darla?”

“Behind the bar at work, Tuesday and Thursday nights. Her father’s finally trying to quit. She was very appreciative, by the way. Wants me to tell you you’re a good person.”

Jess’s profession by choice was the lead of a band called Dog Park. His profession according to his W-2s varied wildly, but his current job as a bouncer at a “gentlemen’s club” on the West Side Highway had established his longest employment streak since he tore ticket stubs at the Wichita Mall movie theater in high school. Jess had been the one to make the sudden move to New York City fifteen years before. Ellie might have spent the rest of her life in Kansas if it weren’t for her brother—or at least their mother’s certainty that his rebellious ways would catch up to him in a big, tempting city without a bunch of cops looking out for the boy they’d known since he was in diapers. Two years later, with Steve’s encouragement, Ellie made the move too, realizing that the best way to help her mother was to leave town and keep an eye on her brother.

She made a point of waving away the smoke wafting in her direction, but simultaneously allowed herself a deep breath. Damn, she still missed it. Jess ground out the butt against the bottom of his boot and dropped it in the garbage can at the curb as she pulled open the door to Plug Uglies.

Leo, the bar manager, flashed a broad smile as he wiped down the counter. “My favorite siblings.”

A customer Ellie didn’t recognize complained that the title belonged to him and his brother, Jack.

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