Home To Stay

He got up to walk around the room. “I spoke to the detective who had the lead. She said Evans hired a private investigator to look for his wife. It was his call, although the detective had cautioned that it was highly unlikely the PI would find anything we hadn’t. She said Evans was highly distraught. Understandably. He had a new kid and had lost his wife. Said they’d been together since high school.” He shrugged. “As expected, the PI didn’t turn up anything new. There were no clues as to where she’d gone or what had happened to her.

“The only thing that kept Evans functioning, according to the detective, was his kid. His son’s welfare became Evans’s priority. He changed jobs to be able to spend as much time with the kid as possible. As is standard procedure in cases like this, Evans was looked at as a possible suspect but cleared.”

Bigelow was known to be a tough cop, but Shannon could see that even he was moved.

“How could the guy have foreseen that taking his son on a family vacation would turn into a parent’s worst nightmare?” He shook his head. “Speaking of nightmares, Evans said his kid had them from the time his mother left, and only now are they becoming less frequent. Let’s get this kid back to his father as soon as we can. Special Agent Leary will cover what we’ve got so far.”

Bigelow switched places with Leary. “Sadly, not much,” Leary began. “Yesterday we went over all the possibilities with Evans. His acquaintances and neighbors, his current and past colleagues and, going further back to his tenure as an assistant district attorney, any and all people he’d prosecuted. The DA’s office is reviewing their files, too. We haven’t hit on anything, but the most likely suspects—operating on the assumption that he or she is known to Evans—are people he’d prosecuted as an assistant DA.”

Leary held up his hands when murmurs broke out across the room. “I know that takes us back three years or more, but we can’t ignore it. We’re paying particular attention to the people who’d been convicted. Especially those who received long sentences, as well as their family members. We also looked at associates—in and out of prison—where applicable. Anyone who’d been recently released. Five made it to the top of our list. First up is Stewart Rankin, whom Detective Bigelow just mentioned. He’s serving twelve years in the George F. Bailey Detention Facility. Next is Donna Thompson, convicted of being a drug mule for one of the Mexican cartels, serving a seven-year sentence. With her, there could be a cartel angle, depending on how integrated she was with the organization.”

“You should talk to Rick Vasquez about that,” Logan interjected. “Rick and his narcotics-detection dog, Sniff, were instrumental in taking her down. Rumor had it she was personally involved with one of the Sinaloa cartel’s lieutenants. Although we didn’t get any of the cartel’s key operatives, the takedown was significant because of the size of the seizure and, perhaps more importantly, the closing down of one of their most lucrative smuggling routes.”

Leary nodded. “If it impacted the cartel and/or there was a personal relationship, that moves her up the list. We’ll talk to Vasquez.”

Shannon glanced over at Logan, but his expression was inscrutable. If the Sinaloa cartel had anything to do with Dylan’s abduction, that was bad news. They wouldn’t have done it for financial gain.

“But before we get too concerned about the cartel,” Leary said, “my opinion is that if it was them, we would’ve heard by now—one way or another. They wouldn’t have taken the kid for money.”

That confirmed Shannon’s belief.

“To them, whatever Evans could pay would be a drop in the bucket. If they took the kid, it would’ve been for revenge. And in Thompson’s case, we’re going back nearly four years. I doubt the cartel bosses would’ve been this patient if they wanted retribution.

“Third on our list is Colin Jansen, serving life for killing a man in a barroom brawl when he hit him on the back of the head with a pool cue. Jansen reportedly has anger issues, and he has associates on the outside. Number four is Nadine Crosby. She was twenty-three at the time she was convicted of the attempted murder of her mother and her mother’s then-boyfriend. Diagnosed as a psychopath, she fits the profile, and the fact that she was released a few months ago moved her up our list to fourth position. However, she’s solidly alibied for the time of the abduction. Rounding out the top five, we have Norman Blackstone, a fifty-six-year-old father of four who defrauded his employer of nearly a million dollars. Evans sent him to prison for five years. That covers the probables.”

Leary nodded at Bigelow. “Anything you want to add?”

Bigelow shook his head. “No, other than to say that the DA’s office is continuing to go through all of Evans’s case files. Anything else?” he asked the room in general.

A hand shot up. “What are the chances that Evans might be behind it?”

Bigelow inclined his head. “That’s a good question. As usual, we’re taking an in-depth look at the family. We haven’t gotten a red flag in our discussions with Evans. We’ve interviewed the other campers in the area and got nothing from them, either.” He scanned the room. “A complexity in this case is that the boy is the second member of Evans’s immediate family to disappear. That’s too coincidental for my liking and warrants closer scrutiny. It would answer the question we’ve been grappling with of why the father didn’t wake up if the boy was abducted from the tent.”

“Is it worth looking at the missing wife again?” someone else asked.

“Yes. We’ll review Jeannette Evans’s file, although as I said, the investigation into her disappearance had ruled out the possibility that Evans played any role in it.” Bigelow frowned at his notes. “On the other hand, if it is Evans, if he was involved in her case, where’s the body? And if he’s responsible for his son’s disappearance, where would he have taken the boy?”

There was murmuring in the room, but Bigelow ignored it and continued.

“We brought in the air support unit with infrared capabilities,” he continued. “Their lack of results, combined with what our search-and-rescue dogs have indicated, leads us to conclude the boy was no longer in the park when Evans sounded the alert. But we know he didn’t leave the place until we escorted him home.”

Shannon realized it was standard procedure to look at family members in child-abduction cases, yet hearing that Sawyer was a possible suspect made her feel defensive. She couldn’t believe it. Yes, she was going on a gut feel, but a lot of good police work depended on well-honed instincts. She’d been the first cop on the scene, the first to speak to Sawyer. He couldn’t have faked the raw grief and distress she’d seen.

“Evans’s parents are retired, and we’ve found no reason to suspect them. The sister, Meghan Evans, is single and a marine biologist working for the Scripps Institution of Oceanography in their Marine Biology Research Division. We don’t suspect her, either,” Bigelow said.

When the briefing was concluded and all the questions answered, Shannon left the conference room, along with everyone else. She didn’t know if the others felt as dejected as she did. Yeah, cops hoped they’d never get so callous that they didn’t feel for the victims, but Shannon had to wonder if she’d be able to deal with this sort of thing on a regular basis.

She focused on her work and got some satisfaction when she and Darwin were called out and located an Alzheimer’s patient who’d wandered away from Ocean Crest Hospital; they were able to return him unharmed to his family. They also helped apprehend a man who’d crashed a stolen vehicle, injuring an elderly woman, and had fled the scene. He blew well over the legal limit and, right now, was warming a bench in a holding cell.

But her thoughts kept drifting back to Sawyer Evans and his son, Dylan. How could she not be emotionally engaged when a child’s well-being was at stake? And it wasn’t only about the boy. It was the father, too.

There was something about Sawyer... He stirred up feelings in her that were unprecedented in her experience, and she couldn’t set them aside. Was it empathy she felt because of Charlie?

She tried to take comfort in the fact that the investigation was a top priority. The assistance from the FBI added much-appreciated resources.

But no new information had emerged. The time factor associated with when Sawyer had left the DA’s office made it less likely that one of the people he’d prosecuted was responsible for the abduction, but the investigative team could not ignore it, as they had no other leads.

Shannon knew the SDPD and FBI couldn’t discount a random, opportunistic abduction either, improbable as it seemed. In addition to tapping their combined manpower, they were appealing to the public for help.

Missing-child posters went up across San Diego County. She’d heard that Sawyer had used his own resources to broaden the distribution. It wasn’t just because Shannon was focused on the case that she saw Dylan’s smiling face everywhere she went.

Shannon knew that as more time passed, concerns about the boy’s safety intensified. The first twenty-four hours were crucial, and they’d pulled out all the stops in their search.

But those critical early hours had now passed.

Sawyer had come into the division midday. His eyes had been vacant until they met hers. He’d paused, and she’d felt a brief connection before he moved on to catch up with Bigelow.

Sawyer must’ve been going out of his mind. For Shannon and her parents, it had been a little over a day until they learned Charlie’s fate. She remembered vividly those excruciating hours of not knowing.

Long after Sawyer left, the raw pain she’d seen on his face haunted her. She knew it was contrary to department policy, but she had to contact him. Offer him whatever comfort she could.

She hoped that if this turned out to be a second transgression, it wouldn’t end her career with the K-9 Unit when it had barely begun.

She thought about going to Sawyer’s home at the end of her shift. She knew the address. She’d been there with Logan on the day of the abduction.

Even if she was to step over the line and contact Sawyer, going to his home uninvited was decidedly wrong. She’d stop by his office instead. She debated staying in uniform and decided to go in civilian clothes. After all, it wasn’t official police business. She didn’t want to create any false expectations.

She’d worked the seven-to-three shift. If she changed quickly, she could be at the Thomas Jefferson School of Law by four, a time she assumed was within the normal hours of a professor. She wouldn’t call first, since she couldn’t explain over the phone why she wanted to see him. She didn’t entirely understand it herself.

She’d take her chances. If he was giving a lecture, so be it. Then she’d leave a message.

At the school, she got Darwin settled in the climate-controlled comfort of her Explorer and followed the signs to the faculty offices.

Sitting behind the reception counter was a slim young woman with a pretty face and a mass of wavy auburn hair falling nearly to her waist. The name plaque on her desk said Miranda Smith.

Shannon absently ran her hand through her own short hair. The word tomboy flitted through her mind. The presence of this beautiful, feminine woman made her feel self-conscious.

Miranda glanced up and smiled, revealing perfect, even white teeth. “May I help you?”

Well, at least Shannon had nice teeth, too. The braces she’d worn for the better part of two years as a teen had ensured that. She smiled back and walked to the counter. “I’d like to see Mr., ah, Professor Evans, please, if he’s available.”

Miranda’s smile faded immediately and her eyes clouded. “I’m sorry, but Professor Evans isn’t here. He’s taking some time off...” Of course he wouldn’t be at work while his son was missing! Shannon should’ve thought of that. She was obviously more affected than she’d realized. “Yes. Thank you,” she murmured. She pulled out a business card and a pen. Jotting her personal cell phone number on the back, she handed it to Miranda. “I’d appreciate if you’d ask him to call me...when he gets a chance.”

The receptionist accepted the card and glanced at it. Her eyes rounded. “You’re with the police? Is there news?” she asked hopefully. “I can try to reach him at home right now.”

Shannon shook her head. “I’m sorry, no.” She suddenly wanted to take the card back and leave. This was a bad idea, but it was too late to undo what she’d done. “Please just have him call me. There’s no urgency.” She thanked the receptionist and quickly left.

Inside her Explorer, she grasped the steering wheel with both hands and rested her forehead on it. How dumb was that? she asked herself.