Page 31 of Already Lost

“Nothing registered locally for the firstone,” Laura said. “I’m just looking… ah, here we go. One more Flora born in1992. He was registered at the local hospital.”

“He’d still be alive, not to mention fitand healthy,” Nate pointed out. “Even the father could be a potential, ifthey’re still fit.”

“No, I have a death record here,” shesaid. “But the son is alive, from what I can tell.”

“Put a call in to the precinct,” Natesuggested. “Get his current address.”

Laura put the phone to her ear and dialed,waiting tensely.

“Hello, you’ve reached -”

“Hi,” Laura said, cutting them off. “Thisis Special Agent Frost. I need an address check on a Jack Flora.”

“Give me one second.” There was a pause.“Alright, I do have an address for that individual. It’s downtown. Would youlike me to read it out to you?”

“Yes, go ahead,” Laura said, her handhovering over the touchscreen for the GPS, ready to put it in. She moved herhands over the screen rapidly to keep up, then thanked the officer when theaddress was finished and ended the call.

“Fifteen minutes from here,” Nate said.“Shall we?”

“It would be rude not to,” Laura grinned.

One setback, but then one step forward.Maybe they were actually getting closer this time. If they were about to findthe killer, Laura knew she’d rest easy tonight – impending vision of doom ornot. Because this was starting to feel like one of those cases that may end upnever getting solved.

Nate put the car into drive, and Lauratried to think of all the ways she could lead this man into admitting he was akiller – so they could get this over with sooner rather than later.

***

The door opened so quickly that Laura wasactually surprised, but not as much as the man who opened it. He looked them upand down with a frown. “Where’s my pizza?” he asked.

“We’re not delivery drivers,” Laura saidwith a wry smile. “I take it you’re expecting a late lunch.”

“Early dinner,” he replied. “Who are you,then?”

Laura and Nate both took their badges outof their pockets without a word.

“What?” he said, looking at them andblinking. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“That’s very defensive, considering wehaven’t accused you of anything,” Laura said evenly. “We wanted to speak withyou about your great-grandmother, Nena Flores.”

He tilted his head with a scrunched-upexpression. “Why?”

“I think we’re better off discussing thatinside,” Laura said, gesturing for him to lead the way.

He stepped back reluctantly, clearly notwanting to let them in but having very little choice. Once they were inside, helead them to the first room they came to, which contained a sofa, TV, and notmuch else. This was a small home, but clearly he was finding it difficult tofurnish even that much space.

“I don’t know a whole lot about Nena,” hesaid, before they’d even finished sitting down. Nate stood in front of the sofaawkwardly, having no space to sit. “It’s just a part of my family history thatno one ever really talked about. I mean, I haven’t even thought about her inyears, to be honest.”

“Really?” Laura asked. “Even though shewas an accomplished singer?”

“I wouldn’t say accomplished,” Jack said,wrinkling his nose. “She had one song. It’s more of an interesting fact I cantrot out at parties than anything else. Most people haven’t ever heard of it.”

“You didn’t feel proud of that part ofyour heritage?” Nate pressed.

Jack snorted. “Heritage? It’s not reallyanything to do with me. My great-grandma recorded a song, so what? It’s notlike anyone really heard it. It was a flop. She never even made any money offit.”

“There were no royalties?” Laura asked.

“From a song no one bothered listeningto?” Jack said. “Please. She died penniless. She had nothing. We all hadnothing. My father ended up dragging himself up out of that. Not that I’m muchbetter off myself, these days.”

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