"Hi Cole, I'm Jenna. I'm the lead on Tristan's case, and I am trying to find your friend."
"Hi," said Cole quietly, unsure of what to say.
"Could you please tell me when was the last time you saw Tristan?"
"The night before she went missing. We were having my sister's birthday party, and Tristan and her family had come down. Our families are close."
"Did you two argue at all?"
"No. We never argue."
"So she was happy to be in your company?"
"I think so. Although it did sour a little when she came across that news article."
"The one talking about her mother's death?"
"Yeah. She didn't know, and she was really angry with her father for lying to her."
"Tell me about her father."
"Jack is okay. He always seems tired, but he always drives me home no matter how late I stay at their house. He even said I could start working for him next year at the farm once I turn 18."
"That was kind of him."
Cole shook his head in agreement.
"How about your teacher?"
"I hate him," Cole said with a look of great distaste. "He is a horrible person."
This caught Jenna off guard. Sure most students couldn't stand their teachers, but hate seemed like an awfully harsh sentiment.
"How come?"
"He would always keep Tristan afterwards in class, locking the door and pulling the shade. He claimed that she had make up work to do, which is a lie, because she had a near perfect average. She would always come out of the class crying. He had stopped for a while. Jack had warned Kendricks that he would be sorry if he didn't leave his family alone."
Jenna scribbled furiously in her notebook.
"Do you think he had an interest in Tristan that wasn't exactly... academic?"
“Like what?”
“Would he try to touch her?”
"I have no doubt. But she is tough. We would know if he tried anything."
"Would you?"
"She didn't keep secrets from me. She is my girlfriend, and my best friend, we told each other everything," Cole looked away mid-sentence trying to keep his composure. "I just hope she's okay."
"I want you to know that we are doing everything we can to find her."
Jenna rose from her seat, grabbed her bag, and waved goodbye to Joe who was now behind the counter dealing with another customer. She decided she would go back to the station for an hour or so until Hernandez called with an update on the house search, and she would try to finish reading over Catherine’s case file.
* * *
Earl and Amos got out of their squad car in the parking lot of Monte's Cafe and moved quickly towards the entrance.
“Some people just don't understand simple instructions... How hard is it to not talk to the police?"
"We are the police..."
"You know what I mean."
The bell over the door in Monte's cafe rung yet again as the two deputies walked through. Joe's happy face turned sour as he threw a dish rag onto the counter, waiting for the nonsense that Amos and Earl would spew out.
Although Joe was looking right at Amos, he decided to ring the bell on the counter anyway. Loudly he yelled, "Can I get some service?!" Earl, meanwhile went up to Joe's lone customer, George Harris, trying to get him to leave. Joe seen this and yelled back to him, "No, George, you stay. Earl was just leaving." Amos leaned over the counter coming within an inch of Joe's face.
"Why was DiNolfo's car out there for three hours today?"
"I guess she was hungry."
"Don't play dumb... What did I tell you about keeping quiet?"
"What's there to be quiet about? The whole township knows that you two baboons are more corrupt than all of Harrisburg itself!"
"So what did you say?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Shall I remind you?" said Amos, his hands balling into fists.
Joe, not inclined to back down from anyone, especially measly, slimy little Amos Cope. "Should I remind you that I don't take well to threats?" said Joe grabbing hold of his Louisville Slugger that rested comfortably under the front counter for rowdy customers like Amos and Earl, "Because I have no problem reminding you."
Amos glared at Joe as he stared back, seeing that Joe was not even remotely intimidated as he swung his bat in the air menacingly. Slowly, Amos waved for Earl, and the two bolted for the door. Throwing his Louisville Slugger back under the counter, Joe said aloud, "Yeah. That's what I thought." As the bell over the door rung again, Cole and old George broke into applause for the now flustered owner of Monte’s café.
Chapter Fifteen
A Matter of Security
Elkhart Police Station
October 9, 1997
Jenna DiNolfo slumped down into her office chair with a million things on her mind at once. She needed a moment to collect her thoughts, but that moment was fleeting. As soon as she sat down she noticed the red light on her desk phone was blinking angrily. She had several yellow notes in different scrawls scattered around her desk. As she reached to check her voicemail, her desk phone rang. With a huff, she picked it up and held it to her ear.
“DiNolfo...”
“My name is Dr. Branson, I am a physician in the emergency room at St. Benedict’s Hospital over in Sunbury... Are you the detective that is looking for the missing girl from Fox Hollow?”
“I am... Do you have any information for me?”
“A girl just passed through my ER that fits the description on the flyer...”
“I’ll be right there. Don’t let her leave.”
DiNolfo threw down the phone and ran for the door. She was on the highway within minutes, and did 80 miles per hour down I-70, barreling towards the hospital. She could feel the sweat dripping off her brow; not from heat, but from nerves. She eyed the approaching exit sign and belted towards exit 18A. Within minutes she was pulling into the parking lot of St. Benedict’s Hospital for the Infirm.
The sun gleamed brightly off of the glass building causing DiNolfo to shield her eyes as she entered the building. She made a beeline for the front desk, where a burly security guard was sitting half asleep. She tried politely waiting for him, but when he didn’t feel her heated glare or respond to her impatient tapping on the desk, she decided to resort to more drastic measures. She took her right hand and slammed it hard onto the desk in front of him.
“Yo! Look alive!”
The burly guard woke up immediately, drool sliding off his lip, eyes wild with alarm as his arms flailed at his sides.
“Sorry... I was just...”
“I am certain you were not!”
After a breath DiNolfo spoke again, “I am Sergeant DiNolfo from Elkhart. I got a call from a Dr. Branson. Please direct me to where he is.”
The guard started typing into his computer, and promptly printed out a visitor’s badge for DiNolfo. She followed the guard’s directions to the emergency room.
As she approached the nurse’s station, she was greeted by Dr. Branson. A tall man with a neat appearance stood behind the nurse’s station. His face stoic and serious, DiNolfo could immediately tell by his no-nonsense manner that he wasn’t a man who was accustomed to waiting for anyone. He looked down at her over thick, wide-rimmed glasses, taking her in, making sure he had the right person.
“Sergeant DiNolfo?”
DiNolfo nodded in agreement.
“Branson. Follow me, please.”
DiNolfo followed the doctor down the brightly lit and immaculately clean hallway. She kept up, hurrying behind him as they weaved through the maze of a hospital. Finally, they approached a set of double doors that read “Emergency Department” in big bold letters, and the words “Authorized Personnel Only” underneath in a black capital font.
The serene calm from the hallway stood out in stark contrast from the erratic bustle of the emergency room. Nurses were rushing about with clipboards and treatment orders, patients were complaining of a variety of a
ilments, and the noise level seemed to reach maximum level in the ER. Dr. Branson waded through the department as multiple people tried to catch his attention, but he kept moving, as if he hadn’t heard his name being called. DiNolfo’s respect for professionals in the medical field was renewed tenfold. Just standing in the chaos caused her teeth to go on edge.
“Just around this corner...” Branson said reassuringly.
DiNolfo followed the doctor into patient room 7; a small observation room with sea foam green walls, outdated pictures of a beach scene on the wall, and colorful privacy curtains concealing the patient beds inside. DiNolfo noted that it felt like she had swallowed a bowling ball. Her stomach was dead weight. Anticipating the worst, but hoping for the best; her nerves were on edge. What if it wasn’t her? She hoped it was. As Branson pulled away the privacy curtain, DiNolfo felt as if she was going to be sick.
* * *
“I can’t just sit around doing nothing! I feel worthless...” complained Jack to his mother, who was sitting in the darkened living room looking deeply upset.
“Then get to work on your farm. Keep busy and leave the investigating to the professionals. It’s different this time. The good ‘ol boys are nowhere near this case. And may I remind you that your daughter is tough as nails? She will be found. I know it. Focus on your work.”
Jack sat in the dark, not answering. Irritated, Moira let Jack have it.
“Get up!” yelled Moira, as she flicked on the overhead light. Jack, laid out on the sofa in the dark in the middle of the day was more than Moira could stand. “The horses need water, the stables need tending to, and you need to be setting a better example for your boys. Get up.”
Jack shielded his eyes from the rude glare of light, as he listened to his mother complain. He could barely refrain from rolling his eyes. He was a grown man, being scolded by his mother. But somehow, he knew she was right.
“I guess I have ignored the horses as of late... and the Red Winter field,” Jack admitted.
“You’re damn right you have! Now go tend to them and stop wallowing in your misery. If we want to have wheat, you need to tend to that field. You aren’t doing yourself or anyone else any favors by hibernating in the den. You must stay strong. I will come get you if anyone calls.”
Jack pulled himself off of the sofa, stiff from lying there so long. With what little energy he had, he grabbed his blue cap off of the end table and moped out of the room, as Moira watched with a stern look on her face. From behind his newspaper in the next room, Angus griped at his wife.
“You shouldn’t be so hard on him. You know this is ripping him apart,” explained Angus quite reasonably.
“It’s for his own good. Besides, I got him off the couch, didn’t I?” said Moira, a smirk visible on her face. Angus rolled his eyes and went back to his newspaper.
* * *
DiNolfo watched as Branson pulled back the privacy curtain with a gentle tug. The curtain drew back, gliding noisily along a metallic track in the ceiling revealing a very uncomfortable looking patient bed with a teenage girl lying on top, quite still, tucked under a thin hospital blanket. The patient was lying completely still, facing the wall making it difficult for DiNolfo to tell if it was Tristan or not.
“She was brought in by an ambulance squad around 7:30 this morning. Someone found her sitting on the side of the road in Ennisford, nursing her ankle. They tried to take her in their car but when she protested, they called 911 instead. One of the EMTs said she was really agitated; apparently she had walked a long way, but she wouldn’t say from where. She has a sprained ankle, nothing serious, along with some bumps and bruises. She’ll live, but she won’t talk to any of the nurses or tell them where she’s been. She won’t even tell anyone her name. She seems frightened.”
“How did you know it was her?” DiNolfo asked logically.
“The posters. Some man, a big guy, I think his name was Fred or Frank, came in here the other day with missing flyers and asked for us to keep it posted at the nurse’s station in case she turned up. She looks just like the girl in the poster… See for yourself. “
DiNolfo walked around to the other side of the bed to get a better glimpse of the girl’s face. Dark brown frizzy curls hung past her shoulders, blue eyes peered out over dark circles, a slash across her left cheek, a scab on her lip, and a scowl that said “Leave me the hell alone.” DiNolfo had seen that very scowl on Jack Morrow’s face countless times. Immediately she knew she had found the right girl. Though her body lay there quite still, her eyes told another story. Her mind was racing as she stared off at the landscape out the window.
“Tristan?” DiNolfo asked, softly and with some skepticism in her voice.
Tristan did not respond.
“I’m sure you’re wondering who I am. I am Sergeant Jenna DiNolfo… your family and I have been looking for you for two days now…” DiNolfo explained.
“And I’ve been trying to get back for two days now,” said Tristan in a hoarse voice, sounding as if she’d been in a screaming match recently.
“Sergeant,” Branson interrupted much to DiNolfo’s dismay, “I really must insist that she rest now, and answer your questions later.”
With a sigh, DiNolfo responded, “I really must protest. The person who took her is still out there…”
“My main priority is her health.”
“Oh, yes, of course… But I must insist upon placing an officer outside of her door.”
“I really don’t see the need, we have top notch security here,” Branson claimed. DiNolfo chuckled to herself. She could clearly remember the front desk guard snoring away. The damn place could be on fire, and that bozo wouldn’t have a clue.
“It’s not that I do not trust your judgment, but until we have more information on what has happened, I need to ensure her safety.”
“And I assure you, Sergeant, my hospital is quite safe. Hospitals are among the safest places for patients to be because of our stringent security measures.”
“Then at least place one of your guards in this hallway, and tell them not to let anyone but family enter.”
“That’s agreeable,” said Branson, finally relenting. DiNolfo reached her hand out to shake the doctor’s hand.
“Thank you so much for your call. Now I can put her father’s mind at ease. I will return this evening, when the girl has had time to rest.”
Branson nodded as DiNolfo made a beeline to the pay phone in the hospital lobby.
* * *
Jack grabbed his khaki fall jacket off of the hook in the foyer and headed for the front door. A dark mood had taken over his mind as of late. As far as he was concerned, holding onto hope was nothing more than a fool’s errand. He wanted nothing more than for his daughter to be home again, where she belonged. But he watched the news. He knew that in most missing person’s cases, that if the missing wasn’t found within the first two days, it was likely that they would never be found at all. Jack stopped and shook his head.
No. I have to stop thinking like this. She must be found… She will be found… Wouldn’t she?
Even his stubborn sense of determination was second guessing him these days. Moira is right. I must keep busy.
He stepped onto the porch in the brisk autumn air. While his world had halted still, the real world had continued spinning on its axis. How did the world still turn, when something so central to his was gone? The birds still chirped in the apple trees, the cherry blossoms in the meadow still bloomed, the mail was still delivered and the world went on. That is when it dawned on him. The tiny little seed of hope that rested in his soul existed for a reason. She was still out there. She was a fighter. She stood up for what was right, and she would stand up for this. How could he not see this before? She would fight to get back here.
That little seed of hope was contagious. Once the cloud of doubt was lifted, Jack didn’t feel quite so helpless. He would find her, and he would bring her home. He didn’t know where she was, but he would scour every inch of the
mountainside and beyond until he did. He couldn’t just leave this up to the police. It was a father’s duty to protect his children. He wasn’t about to let anyone tell him to take a back seat, even his own mother. He knew she meant well, but it just wasn’t in him to sit around and wait. He knew exactly what he had to do.
From behind Jack, the screen door creaked open and slammed shut as Moira came onto the porch.
“Jack… the phone, it’s for you. It’s that lady officer…” Jack’s heart stopped for a moment as he wondered whether it would be the good news he had been longing for since Tristan was first discovered missing, or the very news that would break his heart again.
* * *
DiNolfo slammed her laptop case onto her desk with a loud thud as Deputy Amos Cope gave her a nasty look from the other side of the room. She could hear Earl trudging up from the file room, the locked file room, with heavy footsteps, “I couldn’t retrieve the Benson file… She locked it.” As Earl reached the top step, his mouth was left gaping open, stunned to see his superior officer standing right in front of him.
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