Chapter 37
Monday late afternoon
The place sat on the edge of Fallbrook, far enough out to feel removed but still within reach of town. A small, weathered house with a chain-link fence and a yard that had gone to dirt, and no decorations or any attempt to make it inviting.
Before JP could even knock, Yvonne Caldwell yanked open the door like someone who didn’t want whatever was on the other side.
“What do you want?”
“Yvonne Caldwell?” JP asked.
She just stared at him.
“I’m JP Torn. I’m looking into your daughter’s case.”
Something tightened behind her eyes. “That was a long time ago.”
“It was, but I’m still working it.”
She stared at him for another second, then stepped back just enough to let him in. The inside matched the exterior. Clean, but bare and functional. Nothing suggested someone had built a life there, just that they were staying.
Yvonne didn’t offer him a seat. JP took the cue and stayed standing.
“What do you mean by working it?” she asked. “Do you think something was missed?”
“I think there are things that weren’t followed up on,” JP said.
“There were a lot of those.” Yvonne gave a short, humorless breath. “Why now, after all these years?”
“Her name came up in another case. That re-opened this one.”
“So, what do you want from me?”
“I want to talk about that day.”
Yvonne’s jaw set. “I’ve talked about that day.”
“I know,” JP replied. “I’m asking you to do it again.”
She crossed her arms. “For what?”
“Because sometimes what didn’t seem important then is exactly what matters now.”
Yvonne looked at him for a long moment, said, “You’ve got five minutes,” then turned and walked into the kitchen.
JP followed.
She leaned against the counter, her arms crossed. “Have you read Victor’s statement?”
“Yes, and I spoke with him.”
“What’s his story now?”
“He says he was supposed to pick up Hannah, but he went to the bar, lost track of time, and when he got home, she wasn’t there.”
Yvonne shook her head. “He lied to me. He said he would be at home, that he wasn’t going anywhere. But instead, he went to a bar. I had asked him to pick her up because she didn’t like walking home. He said he would. But, instead, he went out drinking first.”
“Did Hannah know he was coming?”
“No,” Yvonne said. “That’s the thing. She didn’t.”
JP’s attention sharpened. “You’re sure?”
Yvonne met his eyes. “If she had known, she would’ve probably walked home with the neighbors. She didn’t want anything to do with Victor.”
“What time did you get home?” JP asked.
“Later than I should’ve been. Work ran over.”
“And Hayes?”
Yvonne let out a breath through her nose. “He was passed out on the couch.”
JP didn’t move.
“I walked in, and the house was quiet,” she said. “Too quiet.”
“What did you do?” JP asked.
“I called for her. When Hannah didn’t answer, I checked her room. It was empty.” Her voice didn’t break. It flattened. “I went back out and woke him up.”
JP could see it now, the way she was remembering it, not as a story, but as something she was standing inside again.
“He didn’t wake up right away,” she said. “I had to shake him.”
“What did you say?”
“I asked him where she was. He looked at me like I was the one who didn’t make sense.”
“He said he picked her up,” Yvonne continued. “Said he stopped at a liquor store on the way home and didn’t remember much after that.”
“He didn’t remember bringing her home?”
Yvonne shook her head. “He said he thought she was in her room.”
“What did you do next?”
“I checked again. I ran through every room and outside in the yard. She was gone.” Her hands tightened against her arms. “I went back to him and asked him again. He kept saying the same thing. That he picked her up. That she was home.”
“When did you call the police?” JP asked.
Yvonne hesitated. “Later.”
JP watched her. “Why not right away?”
Yvonne looked at him, something sharp in her expression now. “Because I thought she came home and left again. Because that made more sense than anything he was saying.”
JP didn’t respond.
“You have to understand,” she continued, “he was drunk. Not just a little, he was out of it. He was slurring his words, and he could barely sit up.”
“So, you didn’t tell the police about that?”
Yvonne shook her head.
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t think it would help,” she said. “All it did was make him look worse. And he wasn’t supposed to be in the house. I was afraid I’d lose my kids again if they knew he went to pick her up.”
JP let that sit.
“They were focused on him anyway,” she added. “They didn’t need my help to get there.”
Silence settled between them.
JP locked eyes on her. “You don’t think he did it.”
Yvonne’s expression hardened. “I think he’s a liar. I think he was drunk and shouldn’t have been anywhere near her. But I don’t think he planned it. He didn’t plan anything.”
“So, what do you think happened?”
Yvonne seemed pensive. “I think he picked her up and something happened after that.” She held his gaze. “And whatever that was, he doesn’t even remember clearly.”
JP nodded. That worked with Gates’ claim to have seen Hayes with the girl. “Thank you,” he said.
No response from Yvonne.
JP moved toward the door, then paused. “Do you know what liquor store he stopped at?”
“It was probably the one he always went to, the 7-11.”
JP clarified where it was located and wrote it in his notepad. He thanked her and stepped outside thinking, Hayes lied, yet another time.
Some things were certain. Hayes picked her up. Hayes had her in his car. Hayes stopped at the liquor store. After that, certainty thinned out fast.
Hayes had been drinking, and he wasn’t careful. A drunk man with a child in the front or back seat would draw attention.
JP looked again at the store notation. Hayes went inside for several minutes and left the vehicle unattended. What if it was that simple?
What if someone saw a little girl sitting alone in a car and made a quick decision?
They opened the door and said the right words.
Maybe told her that her mom sent them, or told her that Mom was in trouble, or anything a scared child might believe.
There would be no struggle, no screaming. She’d just be gone.
It fit better than a planned abduction in several ways. It was opportunistic but clean. A child already vulnerable, already separated from safety, handed to the first person bold enough to take advantage of it.
JP didn’t like how well it fit. Because if that version was true, then Hayes may have committed a crime, but not the one everyone remembered.
JP walked to his truck and got inside. It was a simple theory of the case and would be even harder to prove than if Hayes took her for himself, or heaven forbid, for someone else. All they really knew for sure was that Hayes picked her up, then lost her. Someone else kept her.