“No, as far as I know, she didn’t eat anything. I’m pretty sure she sulked, from what Helen said.” He pinned the notecard to the board.
“I just got the report back from the oil companies. None of them has records of a purchase at Porter’s station on that Saturday.
“So, we don’t have a positive sighting on Saturday of the family getting gas. Where did the receipt from Porter’s come from?”
“We need to find the original from the Borman’s. Weren’t they picking up the mail?”
Robert picked up the receiver again and dialed Maggie’s number.”
After a greeting, he got straight to the point. “Are you getting the Stevens’ mail?”
“Yes.”
“I would like to see it. We have a slight discrepancy with the gas bills.” He paused and then lowered his voice, “I’ll come and get them today. Do NOT give the mail to anyone else.”
“All right.” Her voice sounded cautious and concerned. “Is there something I should know?”
“Not right now. I’m looking for anything that gives us a reason your brother and his family would leave home on a Sunday afternoon.”
“They went to get Christmas greens,” Maggie reminded him.
“Yes, I know. You told me the family did it every year. Why that day? It didn’t look like they planned it and they didn’t call you and tell you they were going that day.”
Silence. “Are you there, Maggie?”
“Yes.” He heard a breath like a sigh. “You’re right. Something happened, Detective. I’m a bit scared.”
Robert didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t feeling all that confident either. “Just be careful who you talk to and what you say.”
“You think there is something wrong too?”
“This doesn’t look like a family going out for a drive and vanishing.” Robert agreed.
“Thank you. I didn’t think so either.”
“I’ll stop by this evening and pick up the mail. If you make sure I get it, I’d appreciate it.” He hung up.
Jake listened to the conversation. “She thinks something isn’t right.”
“Yes. Here’s the thing. From Maggie’s tone of voice and how quickly she jumped to something sinister, I think she knows more than she’s told us so far.”
Jake pointed to the map. “I would say their natural course of action would be to go west on the highway toward home. Something or someone interrupted that course of action. Who? Where? Why?”
“Buddy, if we knew that, we wouldn’t be sitting here stumped,” Robert reminded him.
The holidays came and went. There were no new leads. Robert pulled double duty, filling in extra shifts for those who wanted to be with their families. After the new year, he took off a few days to spend with his parents and his brother’s family.
He enjoyed being with his parents. After his brother had married, he and his wife had two lively young kids. Robert was glad he wasn’t there when they were opening presents and showing all that excitement. It tore his guts out that first Christmas, and he didn’t go back. Now, sitting back and reading a book, or talking to his dad about fishing and hunting, Robert felt content. His mother brought him coffee until he felt like his teeth would float.
“Mom, sit down. I’ve had enough coffee, cookies, and cake. I’ll waddle back into the station if I don’t stop,” he teased her. She patted his shoulder and sat in the matching chair next to his father, with the little table between them.
His mom said, “I have a box of things I am putting together for you to take back to Portland. It’s a six-hour drive, and you’ll get hungry on the way. There are some things I canned you can save for later.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He just nodded and knew the box would take all his muscles to carry to the car. Every time he came for a visit, he brought the empty jars back from the last time. For now, it was nice not to think about work or the case.
“Got any interesting cases going on up there?” His father folded the paper and slid it into the rack beside him.
Robert sighed. I guess I can’t leave my work at the office, he thought.
He gave his father the newspaper version of the story. They talked about the case for a bit, but Robert couldn’t tell him much, so the conversation dwindled to a halt.
The rest of the weekend passed by with the ease of a comfortable shoe until his mother popped a question.
“Robert, are you dating yet?” She smiled in hope.
“Ah, nothing steady,” he mumbled.
“But you are seeing someone? Some nice, young woman? Are we going to meet her?”
“Mother, I haven’t been on a date. There is a nice woman I’ve been talking to at work. That’s all it is right now. If anything happens, I’ll let you know.”
“You’d better. I’d hate to have to find out from Jake and Lorene.” His mother went back to darning his father’s sock.
Robert returned to the station after his weekend at his parents. The decorations were gone. The spirit of the season hung in the air, but it soon disappeared as calls for family disturbances plagued the men on call.
Robert pinned new lead cards along the timeline. He turned to Jake, who sat in his usual chair, leafing through lead sheets.
“The board on the squad-room wall has every lead we received. They have some order, mostly by date. This board only has leads that positively connect to the family in some way. Stuff like that sleeping bag lead can go on the board out there, but not mine.
“You don’t think the sleeping bag had anything to do with the case?” Jake asked innocently.
Robert gave him a look, and Jake laughed.
Jake imitated the woman’s high-pitched voice. “I wanted to be a good citizen, so I called as soon as the boys told me the name on the bag belonged to that missing Stevens family.”
Robert shook his finger at Jake. “I looked the bag over and saw nothing unusual about it,” he recalled. “I asked her son, ‘Where did you find the name Stevens written on it?’”
“It was on the plastic bag around it,” the older boy answered, “We—uh—took it off and left it at the river.”
“The name was painted on the plastic. It came off when we picked it up. We didn’t mean to rub it off; it just came off on its own,” the younger one explained.
“I’ll have to take the sleeping bag with me and see if we can find some connection that will tie it to the Stevens.” He turned away.
“Officer?” The mother’s voice stopped him, “What happens if you can’t find anything that links it to that family?
“I guess it just gets put away in the evidence room.”
“The boys found it, so shouldn’t it be theirs?” Her voice became firm.
“Yes, if no one claims it, after thirty days, you come and claim it.”
“They did find it out by the Sandy River. It had a plastic bag on it. I don’t suppose there’s any way to prove it belonged to that family.”
“Not unless one of the family positively says it belonged to the family.” He began to walk away.
She nodded and led the boys out of the room.
“Ten to one they were hoping for a little fame,” Jake joked.
“There’re enough reporters hangin’ around they can tell their story too. Ten to one we read about it in tomorrow’s paper with a picture.”
Jake and Robert both read the account given by the mother and the boys in the next edition of the paper. Robert threw his copy in the trash can. He groused the rest of the day about stupid reporters. “Isn’t there something about reporting the truth?”
“The truth doesn’t sell papers,” the chief answered as he passed Robert’s office at that moment.
“We sure know that’s true,” muttered Jake. The chief had paused at Robert’s door and gave Jake a frown, he started to comment, but instead shrugged and went on down the aisle.