Chapter 61
Tuesday evening
The sky over El Cajon had started turning orange at the edges, heat still hanging over the asphalt even as the day began to give up. JP got in his truck, picked up his cell, and called Rochelle.
She answered on the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“Rochelle, it’s JP Torn.”
“Did you find something?”
“Maybe.” JP leaned back against the seat. “But I have a question about your mother.”
“What about her?”
“A neighbor mentioned a little girl, around Hannah’s age, lived with her for a while years ago.”
“You mean Bonnie’s daughter?”
“Your cousin Bonnie?”
“Yeah.” Rochelle sounded confused now. “Why?”
JP rubbed a hand across his jaw. “What can you tell me about her?”
“Not much.” Rochelle sighed softly. “Bonnie got pregnant really young. She was fifteen, I think.”
“And your mother raised the child?”
“Partly. My Aunt Opal, Bonnie’s mother, raised her until she had some health problems, then my mom helped her until she got better.”
“Where was Bonnie?”
“She was young and got involved in drugs. Aunt Opal couldn’t handle both Bonnie and the baby at that time. Eventually, Bonnie left home, my aunt got better, and Annie, the little girl, went home to her grandma. She’s still there.
I can give you her address and phone number if you want to check it out yourself.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.” JP wrote down the information just in case he needed it. “I don’t think I’ll need to bother them unless something else comes up.”
“Why would you think that was Hannah?”
JP stared out through the windshield at the apartment buildings across the street, feeling frustrated. For the last hour, he’d almost convinced himself he’d found a huge missing piece.
“Rourke, the PI on the case, mentioned there may have been a child in the home that fit Hannah’s age.”
“Yeah, I remember him. He came to our house asking a bunch of questions. I can see why somebody might think that from the outside, but I can assure you that girl wasn’t Hannah.”
JP believed her. Rochelle wasn’t defensive, nor evasive. She was just certain.
“Okay.”
Rochelle went quiet a moment, then asked, “Do you really think Hannah’s alive?”
The question everyone eventually circled back to.
“I think it’s possible,” JP said finally.
Rochelle inhaled softly. “My God. My niece would be a young adult now. Have you seen her?”
“No. And I’m not certain if the young girl we’re chasing is even her.”
Rochelle’s voice lowered. “If she’s alive, somebody must’ve taught her not to come home. Or she doesn’t know who she is. She was so young.”
“Yeah, but I promise you if we find her, I’ll let you know. And thank you for clearing up the Bonnie lead.”
“I’m sorry it wasn’t useful.”
“No,” JP replied quietly. “It was.”
Because every dead end removed another possibility, narrowing the shape of what remained.
By the time he ended the call, one thing bothered him more than anything else.
The blonde girl returning to the home after Bay fled.
That wasn’t panic. That wasn’t escape. That was loyalty or fear.
JP was no longer sure which was worse, and he was even less certain that Bay killed Todd.
What he didn’t know was whether Bay knew the truth and was protecting her sister or if she really believed she had killed him herself.