Charlie and Jenny approached the receptionist/dispatcher's desk in the front of the station.
"Hello, what can I help you with?"
"We're the Watsons and would like to speak to a detective," Charlie told her.
"What's the complaint; noise, theft, an accident?"
"We believe a young girl is being held against her will," Jenny offered.
"That would be the Chief," she told them as she pushed a button on the console in front of her. "Chief, I have some people here to see you… Watson… Ok, I'll tell them." She turned back to Charlie and Jenny and asked them to have a seat, explaining the Chief would see them shortly. A few minutes later the receptionist turned to face them.
"Go on back. It's the office with Chief Rodney Walker on the door."
As they passed the occupied desks they exchanged smiles with the officers seated there. When Charlie knocked on the door he was greeted with a, "Come in." Opening the door revealed a forty something, very professional looking small town Police Chief decked out in a highly-starched uniform. "I'm Police Chief Rodney Walker." He shook their hands. "Please have a seat and tell me what's on your mind."
Once seated, Charlie started to tell the story of what they had found. The Chief listened intently as they both took turns relaying the information and he jotted down notes on a pad in front of him.
"You say his name is Robert Porter?"
"Yes it is," Jenny answered.
The Chief turned to his computer and entered the name. After viewing his screen he turned to them. "No wants or warrants for a Robert Porter; no listing on the National Sexual Offender Directory either. Do you have a name for the young woman or know where she's from?"
"No we don't," Charlie replied
The Chief sat back in his chair. "I've seen some pretty bazaar parental disciplinary methods. Like a couple that locked their seven-year-old child in a closet as punishment for leaving his room without permission."
"But he didn't have any children," Jenny countered.
"What you've told me is a man rumored, but not convicted, of inappropriate activity had a trash can with brown hair belonging to someone other than himself and some girls clothing in his old residence, that is now your residence. We don't know if the hair and clothing belonged to the same person or if either of them were physically ever inside the mobile home. I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Watson, I don't have enough here to invade this man's privacy."
"But what about the restraining bolts in the floor?" Jenny protested.
"The mobile home is, what, 15 years old? We don't know when or by whom the eye bolts were installed or even for what purpose. Like I said, I wish I could help you and it's clear to me you two are really concerned about what you've found, but unless there is something I can run with, there's nothing I can do." He rose from his chair, clearly indicating the discussion was over.
Jenny and Charlie rose from their seats. Charlie turned to the Chief and asked, "What should we do from here? Do we call the State Police, FBI? What do you suggest we do?"
The Chief handed him one of his cards. "Honestly, I wish there was more I could do. I suggest you go build your bed and breakfast."
They left the police station without a word between them, and after sitting in the truck a while, Jenny turned to Charlie. "We don't have anything to move forward with, do we? It's a dead end without the help of the police. Damn it! I don't want to go through that again."
"He must have had a PO box in town, maybe with a forwarding address. Let's call Stacy and see if she noted one for utility bills, if nothing else."
Jenny was on her phone and after a brief discussion with Stacy, told Charlie, "Utilities were included in the lease and no phone service at the site or cell phone number on record with her. She did seem sorry she couldn't help."
"There was nothing else you found going through the trash?"
"No, not a thing of help."
Charlie thought about that a moment and concluded it was a dead end. He reached across the seat and pulled Jenny into his arms and just held her for a few moments. "I'm sorry Jenny. I think all we have left is to follow the Chief's advice and do what we came here to do."
"You're right," she conceded. "Let's go home and set up the construction office. We have drawings to review and building permits to file, mister."
"Works for me." He started the truck and drove home, knowing it would be a while before the full excitement returned with a focus on their dream. Thoughts of what might have happened in that room, thoughts of Hope held in that room, would linger. The key to getting back on track, Charlie thought, was getting to work on Watson Manor and not talking about Robert Porter, Hope or the past in their temporary home.
Jenny put everything she'd reviewed in a box and handed it to Charlie. She left the room as he removed the eye bolt from the floor and they spent the next few hours moving furniture in and setting up the office. Jenny fired up her computer and the architectural software that she'd purchased in her college days appeared on the screen. "Off and running here."
Charlie loaded his pickup with the old furniture and all the trash they had cleaned out and drove to the county dump. When the truck was empty he noticed the copy of "American Rifleman" flapping in the breeze. He went over, picked it up and noticed it had an address label with a PO box number in Marina. With a spark of hope he got back in his truck and called the Marina post office to inquire about a forwarding address. He was told that there was none given when the box was closed out.
As he drove back towards home another thought crossed his mind and he pulled off the road onto the shoulder. He opened the magazine to the page showing the subscriptions department phone number and dialed the number.
"American Rifleman, Subscription Department. May I help you?"
"Yes, I hope so. This is Robert Porter and I've recently moved. Just wanted to make sure you had my new mailing address."
"I can check that for you, Mr. Porter. What is your member number, sir?"
Charlie grabbed the magazine and flipped it over to show the address label. "The number is OR-365281."
"I'm pulling up your records. Here it is. Apparently you called in the 3rd of this month and changed it. The December issue just went out so you will receive it shortly at the new address."
"While I have you on the phone, I'd like to verify the new address on file." Charlie was ready to write the information down.
"Certainly sir. I have PO Box 1537, East Foothills, California 95127. Is that correct?"
"Yes, thanks. You know how it is, with so many things to think about when you move. Anyway, thank you again for your help."
"My pleasure, Sir, enjoy that next issue."
"I always do. Good bye."
Charlie pulled his California map out of the glove box and located the city of East Foothills, a small community north east of San Jose, about a 90-minute drive from Marina. He laid the map on the passenger seat. "Thank you, Lord."
Charlie turned around and headed back to the dump. He explained to the attendant that one of the bags he threw out was a mistake and was allowed to enter without paying another fee. He rummaged through the bags until he found the file they had collected on Robert and confirmed the license photo was still there. On the drive home he was hit with mixed feelings. If, and he repeated to himself, if, there was a Hope being held against her will, then they should keep going to find her. On the other hand, he and Jenny were trying to move on from the only thing they really had, suspicions. Was he ready after seeing the frustration and hurt in Jenny's eyes to offer, potentially, false hope and set her up for more disappointment? Charlie arrived home and walked through the front door, leaving the file in his truck. "Is there an architect in residence?"
"Only the best, but I don't think you can afford me."
He walked into the office and saw drawings all over the place. Jenny was working on some detail view on her computer. He realized she was doing something she loved to do and it was, in fact, the distraction she needed now.
"You got it. You're in for a life sentence, mister."
"Jenny, when did you do all this work?" He was surprised as he looked closer at the drawings.
"When you made local runs in your truck. For me it wasn't General Hospital on the TV; it was Builder Jen on this screen. Come sit down and look these plans over."
They reviewed the drawings for hours, made some adjustments and finally took a break for dinner. Charlie fired up the barbeque for some steaks while Jenny nuked some potatoes and tossed a salad. It was a little chilly at night there in November, but they bundled up with the determination to eat outside under the stars. Dinner conversation hadn't drifted from details about "Watson Manor" and he could see and hear the excitement coming back for Jenny. He was amazed at the synergy they had as they bounced ideas off one another. It was like throwing a little gas on the fire, the picture of what they were building in their minds intensified. It was such a wonderful experience and Charlie felt that holding back his new information on Robert had allowed the healing to begin.
The magic stayed with them into the bedroom that night, sharing their passion for each other and the dream they shared.
Lying in his arms, Jenny said softly, "This is so much more than I ever dreamed love could be."
"We're again on the same page. I love you so uniquely."
"This has been our best afternoon, but I just can't stop thinking about Hope," she confessed.
"I know what you mean." Charlie struggling with what he was holding back from her. He also knew it didn't matter if it was better to keep the information from her or not, it was a secret and he didn't want to set the first brick in a wall between them.
"I found a lead, Jenny. We can follow up on in the morning."
"A lead…what did you find?" She pulled out of his embrace and sat up beside him.
"I'll spell it out for you in the morning. Right now I need some more of just you and me time." Charlie pulled her back down and kissed her. She conceded to his request.
Chapter 18
Charlie and Jenny drove to the city of East Foothills the following day, a Saturday morning and he handed her the re-claimed file on Robert, explaining what he had done to get the new location. "It's only a PO box number in a little town that we have. We can't just sit in the truck and watch the post office all day."
"But it's a location. There has to be something we can do. Maybe start with some real estate offices in the area?"
"I thought of that too, but like Stacy said, they can't just give out that information to strangers."
"Well you've already crossed into impersonating others. Maybe Robert is my brother and I am trying to locate him."
"And your father is in the hospital…or just passed away. No. I think the hospital is better. It has a greater sense of urgency."
"I agree. We need to appeal to their emotions to bend the rules," Jenny responded.
"With almost 25 years between you two, maybe you're his niece?"
"Not a close enough relation. OK, I'm looking for dad because Grandpa Porter is in the hospital."
"So you grew up in Oregon, went off to college and met and married a really wonderful man. Then we heard from home about Grandpa Porter."
"Yes, he really is wonderful," she said with a smile. "My new husband that is, I didn't mean Grandpa Porter. I guess mom and dad have been divorced for some time. Mom doesn't know how to reach him."
They pulled into the parking lot of the East Foothills Post Office. He realized they had both been looking around for a pale green VW van since they entered town.
"It's not going to be that easy," Charlie said.
"The Lord works in mysterious ways. Too optimistic?"
"Let's test that hope and drive around some of these back roads; scope the place out," Charlie suggested.
They drove back deeper into the foot hills, the spacing between houses increased and the visibility of the house from the road decreased because they were set further back. It only took an hour to realize it was a fruitless venture and they drove back into the small town. Over lunch they looked at the local ad papers always available by the door of cafes and located two real estate offices. One long ad had a string of rentals properties in the area offered by VIP Property Management.
They stopped at Baker Reality first as it was the closest to them. It was an older historical class home converted into a real estate office. In short order they discovered Baker didn't handle rental properties except for properties that were listed for sale with them. On their way out of the office Charlie grabbed a local area map off the reception desk.
"I don't think Robert would want realtors walking through his rental," Jenny said.
"So where to now?"
"VIP is next about a mile ahead."
VIP Property Management was in a strip mall and looked to have the largest unit in the center of the mall with five store fronts on either side. The entrance to VIP had an overhanging roof that extended toward the parking lot forming a covered patio. It might have been a restaurant at one time offering outdoor seating. The style was dated maybe fifteen or twenty years old, but had seen a face lift and paint recently.
They entered and asked the receptionist if an agent was available. They were asked to take a seat for a moment.
"Hello, I'm Sandy Smith. May I help you?" They were greeted as Sandy walked into the lobby.
"Yes, I hope so," Jenny answered. "We're trying to locate my dad, Robert Porter."
"Why don't you follow me?" She led them back to her desk. "Please have a seat."
They sat down and Jenny continued her story, "I know dad just moved to the area, East Foothills, and I need to tell him about my grandpa, his father."
"What was your father's name?" Sandy asked.
"Robert Porter," Charlie offered with a smile.
Sandy keyed the name into her computer. "We have a client, Robert Porter, but I would think you being his daughter…" she paused a minute and looked at Jenny. "Don't you have his phone number?"
"Dad is pretty much a loner, I'd say you could call him, but knowing dad, he probably didn't give you a phone number either."
Sandy looked back and studied the screen, "You're right, this is strange there is no phone listed."
"The last time I saw dad was four years ago at home in Bend Oregon. I lost touch after he moved and Charlie, my husband here, and I just moved to Marina. Mom called us and said Grandpa Porter is in the hospital. She asked if we could find dad."
"I see here, he was from Oregon, but there is no mention of family. If he doesn't want to be found, there's not much I can do. We have to honor our client's privacy you know. Wait, there's even a note indicating he is not to be disturbed. A writer, I think he said. I can leave him a note when he comes in to pay his rent if you want?"
"When is the rent due?" Charlie asked. "There's a sense of urgency with his father's health. Can't you please give us his current address so we can talk to him?"
"He paid two months in advance so not until January 1st. No, I'm sorry, but I can't help you." Sandy said again as her tone became impatient.
Charlie didn't want to send up any flags that could reach Robert before they did so he turned to Jenny. "Come on honey, she has rules to follow. Let's get a hold of Uncle Dave and see if he knows how to get in touch with your dad." He stood up and turned to Sandy. "We do understand and thank you for seeing us. We have other relatives we'll try for help."
They left VIP Property Management and Charlie opened the door for Jenny. "We need to find a county library," he said.
"I don't think he applied for a library card."
"I'm thinking this VIP is big enough that they would advertise in the Sunday paper; a San Jose paper, not just these throw away papers. The library should have past issues we can see of rentals offered."
"Gotcha. We know he moved in around the first of November, so w
e're looking for properties offered by VIP in October, but not also listed for November," Jenny said, retrieving her phone. She called out the library's address to Charlie who was already opening the map from Baker Reality. He located the street on the map and they drove there.
The Cambrian Branch Library was a large, new building in San Jose. Once inside they headed directly to the information desk. They were told the larger newspapers, like the San Francisco Chronicle were already directly online, but the San Jose Mercury News, although accessible on the computer archives in the back, was not on the internet yet. Charlie asked about printing and was told the current November Sunday issues were in the periodical section and copies were five cents each and that October issues, on the computer, were sent to a printer beside the computer.
"I'll search the November issues of the San Jose Mercury News," Charlie said. "You print the ads from the October Sunday issues on the computer. Wait, We don't know yet if VIP advertized in the San Jose Mercury News."
They both walked to the periodical section. Charlie picked up the top Sunday issue and located the real estate section. He paged through and only found homes for sale. Jenny searched the classifieds and found the house rental section. She scanned down the page and found some addresses listed with VIP Property Management. "Bingo," she called out and handed the section to Charlie.
"I'll go make some copies of these while you print October's from the computer. Maybe we need just the last two Sundays?" he asked.
"Or three, if I can get them. We don't know when he first talked to VIP?" Jenny headed towards the computers.
When Charlie had his copies, he met Jenny at the computers. "How is it going?"
"That should do it. The last page is printing now."
"Let's find a coffee shop and compare listings," he said.
"Good idea, a Coco's or Denny's with booths."
Charlie grabbed some pens from his glove box when they arrived at the coffee shop. They started crossing off all the listings that did not have VIP in the ad, making the task more manageable. Jenny started calling out the remaining street names from her October sheets and Charlie ran through his November lists. If he found the street name in November he would call back with the street number and if they matched then Jenny crossed it off her list. It took a good hour and a pot of coffee for them to get the list down to 10 addresses. Charlie circled each one on his map and they set out for a drive by, starting with the most remote locations.
Watson Manor Eventually (Watson Manor Mystery Series Book 1) Page 11