Chapter 52
Saturday morning
JP had learned long ago that people rarely vanished. They changed names. Changed states. Changed husbands, habits, hairstyles, politics, churches, drinking schedules, and stories. But most people did not vanish. They merely moved beyond the patience of whoever was looking.
He started with Rochelle Caldwell. Marriage records first. Then divorce filings. Then property tax rolls. Then professional licensing.
Over the course of three hours and two cups of coffee, Rochelle Caldwell had become Rochelle Dalton, then Rochelle Johnson, then after a second divorce simply Rochelle Dalton again.
She lived in Eugene, Oregon for a few years, then Portland, Maine. Then a coastal town farther north that JP had never heard of and suspected no one bragged about visiting in winter.
Her current employment was as Director of Nursing Services, Harbor Pines Senior Living. She had competent, responsible work, not the profile of a woman secretly raising a kidnapped child long term.
He dug deeper, but found no juvenile names, guardianship filings, or school registrations linked to her residence. He checked for dependent records or traces of a hidden daughter that favored Hannah, but got nothing. That didn’t clear her completely, but it moved the needle.
He called Harbor Pines and asked for Ms. Dalton. After being transferred twice, a woman answered in a voice worn smooth by decades of dealing with frightened families and stubborn doctors. “This is Rochelle.”
“Ms. Dalton, my name is JP Torn. I’m a private investigator in California.”
Silence for a second, then, “Is this about Hannah?”
“Yes.”
“I always knew one day the phone would ring.”
“Do you have a moment?”
“For Hannah, I have all the moments you need.”
JP liked her immediately and distrusted that instinct on principle.
“I’m reviewing the old case, and—”
Rochelle interrupted him. “You haven’t found her?”
“No.”
She sighed with relief. “I thought you were calling to say she was dead. As long as I don’t get that call, I can pray that she’s still alive and well.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know.”
“I’d like to ask about the family.”
She sighed. “You mean the wreckage?”
“Start where you’d like.”
“My brother, Marcus,” she said instantly. Bitterness sharpened the words. “A selfish, angry man who treated responsibility like an allergy.”
“Was he violent?”
“When it suited him.”
“Toward the children?”
“Toward anyone smaller or weaker.”
JP wrote that down.
“Did he care about Hannah?”
“He cared that Hannah existed when it helped him punish Yvonne.”
“And Yvonne?”
Rochelle sighed.
“My sister-in-law had a gift for picking men who arrived charming and left dangerous. Marcus was one of them. The first notable one.”
“You thought the children were unsafe with Yvonne?”
“I knew they were. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think Yvonne would hurt any of her kids, but she could not stay away from the bad boys. After Hayes went to prison, she found another one. He beat her so bad, she ended up in the hospital. The prisons are filled with Yvonne’s exes.”
Her voice stayed controlled, but JP heard old fury beneath it.
“Hannah was sweet. And August was trying to become a man before he was old enough to shave. They lived in chaos, and everyone called it hardship because hardship sounds nobler.”
JP looked at a note in the file. “And you tried for custody?”
“I tried for common sense.” A pause. “The system prefers paperwork.”
She sounded like someone who had spent time in family court. “It seems like you loved the kids.”
“With everything I had. I still do.”
“Even August?”
“He wasn’t blood,” Rochelle said. “But he was family.”
“What happened after Hannah disappeared?”
“I stayed around for two years looking and waiting for her, because every week I thought there’d be a call, a sighting, bones in a field, or a girl at a bus station. Something, anything.” Her voice thinned but never broke.
“And then?”
“There was nothing left.”
“What do you mean?”
“Yvonne was broken in ways grief can’t explain politely, and she looked to another bad man for comfort. Marcus drifted in and out, making noise. August was carrying pain no child should carry. The neighborhood moved on. Reporters stopped calling. Even pity got bored.”
JP said nothing.
“So, I left,” she said. “I took a nursing position in Oregon, then Maine. I spent my life taking care of people I could actually reach.”
“I have to ask you some hard questions.”
“Go ahead.”
“Did you take Hannah?” JP asked bluntly, knowing if she had, she wouldn’t tell the truth. But he could often tell by the way someone answered.
“No.” No outrage or hesitation. Just denial.
“Did you ever consider it?”
A long pause. “Yes. When I thought Yvonne would lose both kids because of one more bad man, yes.” She sighed. “But thinking something in anger and doing it are different species. Now, I wish I had.”
Honest answer.
“Did you ever know where Hannah was after she disappeared?”
“No.”
“Do you know now?”
“If I did, I’d be on a plane before we finished speaking.”
JP believed her.
“Do you still talk with August?”
“I haven’t known how to reach him in years, but I think about him all the time.”
“He’s doing well.”
“Thank God,” she said. “So, you’ve seen him?”
“I’ve spoken with him.” JP glanced at his notes. “I can’t give you his contact information, but if you’d like, I can pass along yours.”
“Yes,” she said immediately. Then steadier: “I’d love to hear from him, if he wants that.”
“I’ll let him decide.”
“Okay.”
“One last question.”
“Go ahead.”
“Did anyone around that case ever strike you as… too interested?”
Rochelle was silent long enough that JP almost thought the line had dropped.
Finally, she said, “There was always somebody who liked tragedy more than they liked people.”
“Do you think it was Hayes?”
“Not really. They offered him so many chances to save himself if he would just produce Hannah, but he didn’t. Hayes was a coward and an idiot, but he wasn’t clever enough to hide her where she wouldn’t be found. And he is the kind of guy who would’ve given in to save himself, but he didn’t.”
“Who do you think did it?”
“It depends which year you ask me. But there were many possibilities. Most of which were cleared.”
“I know he’s your brother, but do you think Marcus could’ve done it?”
“He was in jail.”
“But he could’ve paid someone do it for him. So, I guess I’m asking if you think it’s something he would do.”
“He didn’t care enough about Hannah to take her. And he wasn’t fighting with Yvonne at the time, so he wasn’t looking for revenge, so no. I don’t think so.”
“Do you know where Marcus is now?”
“He’s still in San Diego. At least he was a couple of months ago. He usually calls me at Christmas, and on my birthday.”
“That’s something, that he remembers your birthday.”
“Not really, since it’s his too.” She gave him an address. “If he’s not there, I’d try jail or prison. He has trouble staying out.”
“I appreciate your time,” JP said.
“Please don’t forget to check with August. I’d love to hear from him.”
“I promise.”