"She doesn't have to drive to leave you."
"I've been making phone calls since four A. M. I've checked with every cab company in the city. None of them picked up Beth from our house yesterday. I've called every hotel between here and White Pass. No Beth Wheatley. I even called highway patrol to see if there were any accidents."
"Did you try Sea-Tac?"
"The airlines won't give out passenger information." "There you go. She could be flying the friendly skies as we speak."
"I don't think so."
"Why not?"
"Come on, Carla. I know what's going on here. I've suspected for months."
"Suspected what?"
"She's seeing someone, isn't she?"
"Another man? No way. You've soured her on the species for life."
"Carla, be straight with me. If she spent the night with another man, that's between her and me. But if that's not the case, then something scary is going on, and I need to call the police so they can start looking for her. So tell me, and you'd better tell me the truth. Things haven't been good between me and Beth lately. But this is Morgan's mother we're talking about. Your niece."
"I honestly don't know what to tell you."
"Stop covering for her." He was louder than he'd intended. He drew a deep breath, but he still spoke harshly. "This is serious. Does a woman leave her husband without a suitcase? Without a purse, a wallet, her driver's license? Without so much as a fifty-dollar withdrawal from our bank account? Don't make me drag in law enforcement if you know this boils down to another lover. But if we can agree she might be in trouble, it's time to call the cops. Which is it, Carla?"
There was a pause on the line, as if she were trying to put aside the lifetime of anger she'd built up against her brother. Finally, she answered in a shaky voice. "I think you'd better call the police."
The response chilled him. He didn't say thank you. He didn't say good-bye. He just hung up the phone and dialed the police.
Chapter Four.
The Mean y Science, Math and Arts Academy let out at three-thirty. Five hundred middle-school students burst through the exits like escaped prisoners. Some headed for the playground until their ride arrived. Others went straight for the long line of yellow buses. Noisy groups of kids who lived close enough to walk home were escorted off the school yard by volunteer patrollers. Benny Martinez and his two sidekicks walked alone.
Benny was big for a sixth-grader, confident to the point of cockiness, a natural leader. As to whether he'd devote his talents to good use or gang life, the verdict was still out.
He walked slowly down the sidewalk and away from the school, passing the crowded buses. He wore a flashy blue and gray NFL Seattle Seahawks athletic jacket. Once outside the school property, he clipped a chain dog leash to his oversized blue jeans, just for effect. Although his parents wouldn't allow the skinhead haircut that was a gang trademark, his hair was cropped as short as his scissors could possibly cut it.
"Come on, Benny," his buddy said. His voice shook with nervousness. He was clearly in a hurry.
"Be cool." Benny clutched his knapsack, which concealed a stolen football. Experience had taught him never to run when carrying stolen goods. Some twenty percent of his classmates had been suspended at some time during the school year. Benny had yet to be tagged for anything. Fools, all of them. Coolness was key.
He smiled at the patrolwoman on the corner as he and his two buddies crossed the street. His friends looked as if they were about to wet their pants. Benny muttered beneath his breath, "Run and I'll kill you both."
His friends slowed their pace. Past poundings from Benny had taught them to do exactly as he said.
Benny seemed to glide across the street, not anxious in the least. His friends tagged along on either side of him, with Benny a half step ahead. They walked as a unit for several blocks until Benny signaled halt. They'd reached the entrance to Washington Park Arboretum, a twohundred-acre woodland northeast of downtown. A light breeze from Union Bay stirred the towering fir trees before them. The sun was just a fuzzy amber ball behind a patchy blanket of clouds. Benny unzipped his knapsack and removed the leather football. Only now did he allow himself a smile.