Looking for Sophie. Roz Fox Denny
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relief-worker status I got that time you wrecked your back.”
“That’s an idea. I’ll pick up the mail from the station and tell my boss that I hurt my knee but you’re home and can help out. He’ll jump on that. He hates the hassle of requesting a relief person.”
“I remember that. I’d rather go fishing, but surveillance is my forte.” Julian didn’t add that if he could prove that Sam was definitely wrong, Beth could stop worrying.
Rather than take Sam’s postal cart the next day, Julian loaded mail in his bike saddlebags. He took his cell phone along so he could snap pictures from a safe distance. Before heading off, he studied the card with the photo of the missing girl. It was a grainy black-and-white shot. “Pop, this kid was last seen in Anchorage, Alaska, over a year ago. It’s a stretch to think she’d wind up in backwater Georgia. Another thing, don’t kids this age change a lot in a year? I’m thinking of Celeste’s twins. I see them occasionally, but at each visit they look so different I don’t know which twin is which.”
“Their smiles and face shape don’t change.”
Julian had to give give his dad that. He started the Ducati and drove off. Most old-timers on the route knew him and many expressed concern for Sam. Julian stuck to the story about his dad’s bum knee.
His father had told him which house to watch for, so when he got there, Julian took his sweet time sorting out the mail. A few bills addressed to Lee Hackett, some junk circulars. Julian had timed his delivery to coincide with school dismissal. Sure enough, two grade-school-aged boys stopped to admire his motorcycle. Introducing himself, Julian handed them the mail while casually asking their names.
“I’m Toby, he’s Gavin,” the youngest said. “Our dad used to have a blue Harley,” he volunteered.
“Cool. Did he sell it?” Julian asked, gazing into the open, empty garage attached to the side of a small house that sat back off the street.
“I meant our real dad. He died. Uh, maybe Lee had a bike, too. I bet he fixes them. Lee’s a mechanic.”
“Ah…so, Mr. Hackett’s your stepfather?” Julian tucked the rest of the mail back into the saddlebag.
Toby hesitated before saying, “Lee wants to adopt me and Gavin. Mom said it takes money, though. More money than we’ve got.”
The older boy grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled him up the drive. “Where’s the old dude who usually brings our mail?” He eyed Julian suspiciously.
“My dad wrenched his knee. The doc wants him to stay off it a couple of days. When I was your age I helped with his route. I’m down from Atlanta on vacation.”
A woman stuck her head out a door opening into the garage. “You boys get inside and change out of your school clothes. Who are you talking to?”
“The mailman’s son,” the eldest boy shouted.
Julian glimpsed a curly-haired girl poking her head out around her mother’s leg. The boys’ backs were turned, so he opened his cell and snapped two photos. By the time the youngest boy turned back, Julian had punched in Josh’s number and wandered back to his bike with the phone at his ear. Toby waved nonchalantly before he and his brother ran into the house.
Josh picked up as Julian casually straddled his bike, giving the appearance of being in no rush to leave. “Hey, son of a gun, I wangled a few days off. I’m staying with the folks, but Mom’s up to her usual tricks. Last night I talked her out of inviting a woman to dinner. Tonight I need an excuse to escape. You and Dawn going to be home later?”
Josh sounded delighted, so the brothers made plans to get together. Julian was stowing his phone when he noticed the girl peering out between the front drapes. He got off two more quick shots before one of her brothers yanked her out of sight and their mother appeared. She stared at Julian, then adjusted the panels. He definitely got the feeling that she didn’t want him hanging around.
He wheeled his bike down the street to the next mailbox, stopping where the woman could see him if she chose to look. And Julian thought maybe she did, so he took his time delivering the mail and making chitchat with neighbors.
He made a point of passing back by the Hackett house on his way home. Luck was with him. A man was pulling into the garage as Julian motored past. He noted the license number on the unremarkable minivan.
The minute he reached his parents’ home, he logged on to a secure Web site and ran the plate through the state system. It checked out okay. The van was licensed to Lee Hackett at that street address. A separate probe didn’t turn up any prior convictions or outstanding warrants for Hackett in Georgia. For kicks, Julian tried Alaska. Nothing showed up there, either.
He found his dad out back weeding. “Pop, can you take another day off? I’d like to do your route in reverse so I hit Hackett’s about the time he gets home from work. One of his sons told me he probably fixes motorcycles. I might be able to start a conversation. So far, though, they seem fine. One of the neighbors told me the girl, Leah, has asthma. That could explain her staying indoors. Or maybe the parents are worried about stranger abductions. Some folks are these days. Or couldn’t they just be antisocial?”
“I suppose.” Sam removed his gardening gloves and walked back to the house with his son. Julian handed back the missing-children card. “Thanks for digging in, son, and for finding out Hackett’s not wanted by the law.”
“No problem. I put out discreet feelers on the mom of the missing girl through a P. I. contact who can access background info on anyone. That report will take a day or so, provided she hasn’t left Alaska. By the way, I’m having dinner with Josh and Dawn tonight. Will you tell Mom? And remind her she doesn’t need to set me up with the woman from her cooking club tomorrow night, either.”
Sam gave a robust laugh. “I told Beth that gal doesn’t have enough spunk for you, son. But your mom’s not gonna rest until you’ve found a wife.”
“Then she won’t rest for a long time.”
His dad’s laughter was slow to die. “What’s that mean? You saying you’ve been in one of those closets?”
That was about the last remark Julian expected from his dad, and it took him aback. Finally, he was able to laugh. “No, Pop. I like women just fine. I’m picky, that’s all. I’m holding out for someone like Mom.”
“That’ll take a lot of looking. Your mother is one in a million. Oh, I know she gets upset with me. But she’s a peach. And I’m a damn lucky man.”
“Yep, but Mom’s worried you’re mistaken about the Hackett girl. Another reprimand could lose you your pension. Is that the way to repay Mom’s love and loyalty?”
“Well, now. Why not just come right out and call me a doddering buttinsky?”
“It’s not that, Pop. I want you to think about the risks and proceed with caution.”
“I am. I haven’t called the FBI or the missing kids hotline.”
“Good. I’ve got two weeks off. My time is yours on this. The girl on the card, Sophie Patton…she’s been missing over a year. Trails go cold. Just…don’t get antsy.”
“As long as they don’t look like they’re packing up. School’s out soon. The NCMEC folks told me last time that people running with stolen kids don’t usually stay in one spot longer than a school year. I asked Hackett once why his daughter wasn’t in school with her brothers. He said at least three times in the space of a minute that she’s only four. She looks older to me.”
“When’s school out?”
“Two weeks.”
THE NEXT DAY Julian felt even more pressure to turn up something useful on Lee Hackett. Both of his brothers and their wives had expressed their concern about his father’s meddling at dinner the previous evening. Tag and Raine had declared Sam was nuts. Josh and Dawn asked Julian