focused. “What kind of vehicle does she drive?”
“A 2016 Mustang GT. Red. I bought it for her for her sixteenth birthday.”
I hit my lapel mike and put out a BOLO for Chloe and her car, with the added code for missing endangered. Then I turn my attention to Atherton. “You stated to the dispatcher that you believe Chloe may be a danger to herself?”
He stares at me, eyes wide and blinking, but his thoughts seem to turn inward. “She’s been … depressed recently. ained a lot of weight since her mom passed away. A couple weeks ago she actually said, ‘I wish I was dead.’” He rubs a hand over his face. “I thought she was just acting out. You know, the pressure related to the move to Phoenix. School. Grades. The usual stuff teenagers face. And I know she’s been missing her mom.”
“Her mother passed away?” Tomasetti asks.
“A year ago,” he says. “Breast cancer.” He looks down, then back at me. “I’ve been so tied up with work. So … damn blind. I should have seen this coming. I should have—” He bites off the word as if he doesn’t know how to finish.
“We’ve got a BOLO out for her. Agent Tomasetti and I are going to get out there, too, and look for her.” I pause. “Dr. Atherton, this may or may not be related, but it may help us find her and maybe fill in some of the blanks as far as her recent behavior, so I’m just going to lay it out for you. I’m not certain, but I have reason to believe Chloe may be the woman who abandoned Baby Doe.”
“ Wh—what? ” He chokes out a sound that’s part laugh, part sob. “But … that’s not possible. She hasn’t been dating regularly. How could she…? She doesn’t even have a boyfriend. For God’s sake—”
“Has she been wearing baggy clothes recently?” Tomasetti asks. “Oversize shirts?Anything like that?”
For an instant, I think Atherton is going to argue the point. At the same time, I see his mind working, a terrible realization entering his eyes. “My God, the weight gain. I didn’t…” He blinks as if waking from a nightmare. “She picked out an alpaca poncho when we were in Santa Fe a few months ago. Wears it all the time…”
“You’re not the first parent this has happened to,” I tell him.
“I’m a doctor. A pediatrician, for God’s sake. How could I not see it? Why didn’t she talk to me? How could I—”
“The most important thing right now is that we find her and make sure she’s safe,” I tell him. “We can deal with the rest later.”
He raises his hands, sets his fingers against his temples, and presses hard, misery etched into his every feature. “If you’re right about the baby, maybe she’s with the child’s father.”
The question pings in my brain. Maybe she’s with the child’s father. And suddenly I have an idea where to look first.
I glance at Tomasetti. “The Amish cemetery.”
The doctor’s eyes snap to mine. “Wait. The Amish boy? Noah Fisher? I knew they were friends, but … she never let on that they were … Oh, Dear God. No wonder she was so upset when he was killed. First her mom and then the boy … She must have been in so much pain. I was so busy with work I didn’t notice any of it.”
Tomasetti is already striding toward the door. “Let’s go.”
“I’ll go with you,” Atherton cries, following.
I reach the porch, glance over my shoulder at him, and raise my hand to stop him. “I need you to stay here, Mr. Atherton, in case she comes back or calls.”
“But she needs me.” He stops, but he doesn’t look convinced.
“If she’s there, we’ll bring her home.” I reach the Explorer, look at him over the hood. “I’ll call you the instant we lay eyes on her. In the interim, try to stay calm and keep trying her cell.”
“All right.” He’s already got his smartphone to his ear.
Giving him a reassuring nod, I get in the Explorer, crank the engine, and back onto the street.
Tomasetti punches numbers into his phone.
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley