by Robyn Carr
“The police are looking into that and we’ll know soon. The thing is, she was last seen in Denver. Cal has a baby, Sierra has a baby, so...” He stopped and just shook his head.
“So?” she asked.
He straightened. “I’m going to find her. I’m going to find my sister. And I’m about the last person she’d want to be found by. I haven’t been a good brother.”
“I don’t believe you,” Sid said. “You want something to eat? Drink? A beer?”
“I’d like a sandwich, if you can. And a cup of coffee. I’m leaving from here.”
“Of course. BLT? Grilled cheese? Club?”
“Yeah, club. With oatmeal and fruit.”
She smiled at him. “I want to hold you,” she said. She felt tears come to her eyes. She had never said that to a man before. Her husband, David, seemed to have a million problems. No, he had irritants. She had never wanted to or offered to hold him.
For a split second, she let herself ponder if she hadn’t done enough. Then she remembered how selfish he had been and let it go. “Let me get your food. Then we can talk a little while.”
She went to her computer and keyed in the order, then anxiously turned back to Dakota.
But who was suddenly sitting on the bar stool next to him? The fancy woman. Neely. She was all smiles. Sid heard her say, “Well, what a surprise! I never would have thought I’d run into a friend at this time of day!”
Dakota gave her a look that said he was disgusted with her. And then he did something Sid would never have expected or predicted. He was completely rude to her.
“Not playing your games today, Neely. I have things to work out.” He stood from his bar stool and walked down to the end of the bar near the kitchen door. The look on Neely’s face was priceless. She was stunned.
Neely snapped her fingers at Sid. “Hey! Can I get a chicken Caesar?”
“Absolutely!” Sid said. “Coming right up!” And she went back to her computer. Then she brought Dakota a fresh cup of coffee. “I assume you were kidding about the oatmeal and fruit.”
“Kind of,” he said. “Waking up with you is heaven, even if it means eating oatmeal. Listen, I don’t know what this is going to take. I don’t know how long. I talked to Tom Canaday and he’s not that busy right now so he’s going to take my shift on the truck for a while. He said the money will come in handy.”
“Will you call me?” she asked.
He grinned and she knew why. “We don’t talk on the phone,” he said. “We meet in the bar or at the food bank but we don’t whisper into the phone like lovers do.”
“This seems to be a good time to start. What do you think?”
“What I think is, I could pathetically need you.”
“That would be okay. I’d like to be with you on this journey, in spirit if not in person. I think this is a good thing you’re doing. I hope she’s okay.”
“I don’t know what to expect, Sid. I always thought Sedona was the most stable kid in our family. I had no idea she was a little fucked up in the head. I mean, I did, but I didn’t. You know?”
“You have no idea how well I know,” she said. “Tell me what you’re planning.”
“I have a recent picture from Sierra’s wedding. I emailed it to a print shop and they’re making flyers for me. I’ll go to the restaurant where she had dinner. I have an appointment with the doctor—hopefully she’ll give me information I can use to help find her. Cal contacted a private detective to help us and the police have been very supportive. I asked them not to publicly mention her fragile mental state—I’m afraid if she hears that it will drive her away. She’s so secretive and proud. I didn’t know she was struggling.” He looked down into his coffee. “Sedona drove me crazy. Not as a kid and big sister, she was okay then. But once she got married and had kids, man. She drove us all crazy.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. She ran a tight ship. Her husband was too quiet and preoccupied, her kids too polite and disciplined, her house too perfect, her schedule too rigid—the polar opposite of the way we grew up.”
“But isn’t that reasonable? If she didn’t want the mirror image of the way you grew up?” Sid asked.
“Sometime, later, after we get Sedona back, I’m going to have to tell you more about my childhood and adolescence. It affected each one of us differently. The funny thing is, I thought Sedona was completely unaffected. She glided right off that farm, got scholarships and earned herself a degree in psychology, then a master’s and PhD, then a nice husband and a house out of the city. She went back to the farm twice a year to check on our parents. She took her kids a couple of times but I never heard of her taking her husband. I thought she was the most normal one of us. Now I find out...”
“She might have hit a snag,” Sid said. “Sometimes you think everything is okay. Not fabulous but perfectly satisfactory. As good as it’s going to get. Then something happens and you find out you were barely holding it together.”
“Is that what happened to you?” he asked.
“I was keeping a lot of balls in the air,” she said. “I dropped the most fragile one. Then the rest of them just went down.” There was the sound of a bell. “Excuse me a second.”
She turned away from Dakota and went to the counter to get the salad and Dakota’s sandwich. She looked around the bar. Neely was gone.
She took the sandwich to Dakota. “Did you see her leave?”
“I wasn’t paying attention. Bathroom, maybe?”
“I wasn’t paying attention, either,” Sid said. She put the salad at the place Neely had occupied, giving her a chance to come back. Then she picked up the coffee urn and refilled Dakota’s cup.
“She’s another thing I should talk to you about. Neely. I’ll give you some details when there’s more time, but don’t trust her. She’s not all right. She’s not what she seems.”
Sid frowned. “I think I could’ve guessed that the first time she snapped her fingers at me for service. Not all right how?”
“I gotta take care of Sedona first, then I’ll tell you a story. I was never involved with her in any way. Since I’ve been here, there’s only been you.”
“I’m still surprised by that,” she said with a smile that felt sentimental. “I hope you’ll be okay, Cody. I hope you can find her right away.”
He took a big bite of his sandwich. She casually watched the bar to see if there were customers in need and took note that Neely had not returned. He washed down about half the sandwich with water.
“Can I pack up anything for your drive?” she asked. “Drinks? Food?”
“I’m covered. I really hate to leave you. Now that I have to go, I realize how many things I want to tell you. Want to ask you.”
“There are some things I want to tell you, too. Like, I didn’t exactly work in computers.”
He smiled at her. “Sid, I’m picking up garbage. You really think I’m going to have a negative opinion if this is the best job you’ve ever had?”
“In many ways, it is,” she said.
“I need to go,” he said. He took a last slug of water to wash down his sandwich, a couple of swallows of coffee. He stood. “I’ll call tonight if I can. I won’t call if it’s late.”
“Cody, you can call me at any hour. We’re in a crisis mode here. I’m capable of turning off the phone if I can’t take a call but I want to hear from you. If you can... No, if you feel like talking to me, please call. I understand you have to be in touch with Cal and Sierra, but I’ll be anxious to hear, too. If only to know your progress.”
“I am going to miss the hell out of you,” he said.
“I’ll walk you out,” she said.
Just before exiting the bar, she tugged on his shirt, stopping him. She stood on her toes and threaded her hands into his overlong hair, her lips finding his.
His hands wen
t to her hips, pulling her close, giving his lips to her. For a second his eyes were open wide, surprised by this public display. The bar wasn’t at all full, but her brother wasn’t far away and there were people there. He released her lips reluctantly. He smiled, his teeth so white against that black, trimmed beard. “Wow. PDA.”
“I’ll miss you, too. Please be safe.”
“I’ll look forward to coming back to you,” he said. And he kissed her again.
The greatest happiness of life is the conviction
that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.
—VICTOR HUGO
12
DAKOTA WANTED TO think about Sedona, focus on her, try to imagine what she might be feeling or fearing. But he was clueless and could not conjure an image of what his older sister, always so much in control, might be going through.
So his thoughts naturally drifted to Sid. He found he faced some serious surprises. Not in her but in himself. He saw her, he found her appealing, he wanted to get to know her better. He wanted to touch her. That was all so predictable, so familiar. He’d actually breathed a sigh of relief. There was an attractive woman who would distract him from darker thoughts, take his mind off the Army, his sense of failure, his disappointment and his loss.
But then something grew in him and he began to really care about Sid. He kept wondering what she’d say next, how she’d make him laugh with her lightning-quick wit, what unexpected activity she’d come up with. The soup kitchen shocked him, but he greatly appreciated her kindness and insight. Hasnaa had said to him, “It’s not what you get in life that will make you whole, but what you give.” She had given it all. Dakota hoped that Sid was a little more cynical than Hasnaa had been, that she’d wear some cynicism around her like a Kevlar vest, judging the world a bit more harshly and keeping herself safe.
He wanted to be with her because he took great comfort in her. It was not a feeling he was well acquainted with. Oh, he’d been filled with passion for Hasnaa, thinking of her all the time and dreaming about her, wanting her irrepressibly. There was such tension trying to navigate the differences in their lifestyles, customs. He remembered his love feeling like a brittle twig that could snap if the wrong pressure was applied, a love so fragile and volatile it had to be handled with great care. His love had felt explosive!
There was something different about what he felt for Sid. There was definite passion and excitement. It filled him up and gave him a buoyant feeling. He wanted to be in her space, hear her voice, talk with her, listen to her. He wanted to come home to her, kiss her goodbye when he left her, and he wanted to take care of her and be taken care of by her. He wanted to sit at her table, sleep in her bed, learn about her deepest fears and happiest moments. He longed for tender moments of touching and dreaming just as he wanted that white-hot passion that lit them both up till they burst into flame. It was like that infatuation he’d had for Hasnaa but all grown up. There was so much he didn’t know about Sid and yet he felt he knew her completely. If she would have him, he would be her companion, her partner.
He was falling in love with her and it didn’t leave him at all uneasy. He welcomed the feeling. He hoped it would never end.
He thought about her the whole way to Denver. When this crisis with Sedona was under control, he would tell her. Maybe he would even tell her how he had loved Hasnaa madly and yet somehow he loved Sid more confidently, more intensely, with utterly no doubt.
He’d known her for three months and he was sure he wanted to marry her. Dakota didn’t fall in love often, but when he did, he went off the deep end.
* * *
He went first to the office supply store to pick up his flyers. Only a hundred for now. He hoped it wouldn’t be necessary to get more but the salesclerk assured him they could have them ready in a matter of hours. He went then to the police department—a detective, Santana, was on missing-persons cases and though it was after six, he was still at the office. They had a long chat about the many possibilities and the length of time that had passed since Sedona was last seen.
“She could have been kidnapped. She could have been depressed or upset and checked herself into the Ritz for the week, pampering herself. She could have run off with a friend or lover, covering her tracks. She could have had some kind of mental or emotional breakdown that rendered her incapable of reaching out or left her confused or disoriented. She could be lost.”
“She could be dead,” Dakota said.
“According to the doctor, your sister has had suicidal thoughts and feelings,” Santana said. “But she never attempted suicide, and while the doctor thinks she could have benefited from more therapy, she seemed functional. When she left the restaurant, the sun was still shining. In that neighborhood it’s hard to imagine that she’d be snatched off the street. We haven’t had so much as a purse snatching there in a very long time.”
“And what did the doctor say about her issues?” Dakota asked. “Whatever mental disorder she’s struggling with?”
“It’s something to be taken very seriously—the doctor believes she may be dealing with anxiety and OCD, both of which can have their mild forms and their very serious forms. I’m afraid we’re not sure which. Your sister was responding to medication and feeling better, but she left the hospital before her evaluation was complete. Buddy, there’s anxiety and then there’s anxiety—and it’s not to be confused with nervousness. It’s not what you feel when you have to sit in front of a promotion board and they all look like they want to eat you. It’s a chemical disorder and it floods the patient’s body with fear and paranoia even though there’s no apparent cause. It can be a mild case, controlled with breathing exercises and some behavior modification. It can be severe, leaving the patient in a panic attack, curled up in a corner, shaking, crying and disoriented.”
“Does anyone know if Sedona has it that bad?”
“Her husband said he found her in a state of panic a few times, but it was so irregular he wasn’t sure what was up. She refused to go to the hospital and it passed. She was driving the family crazy with her rituals and sleeplessness, and if she’s not sleeping, she could be disoriented, confused, even hallucinating. And then there’s OCD...”
“I get it,” Dakota said. “A little on the neat and tidy side or obsessed...”
“And not able to walk down the sidewalk because of the cracks or leave a room without flicking the light switch a certain number of times. In both cases, the anxiety and OCD, your sister wasn’t sleeping much. She might’ve been awake for days, in a manic state. She was afraid she was schizophrenic, like her father.”
“Our father,” Dakota said. “I didn’t know.”
“As I understand it, you’ve been away. Army?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Yes, sir,” he amended. “The Army kept me busy and moving, but the truth is, after I left home I didn’t keep in touch very much. I saw my parents a few times and they were just as batshit crazy as when I was a kid. I saw Sedona about as many times and she was wound up and bossy and a rigid pain in the ass. I had no idea it could have been a medical issue.” He took a breath and looked down. “I spent a lot of years wondering why I couldn’t have been born into another family.”
Detective Santana laughed. “Join the club, pal. I could tell you stories, but let’s focus on your sister. Maybe when we get her home safe, we can have a beer and I can tell you about an old-world Mexican father who will never forgive me for not living at home and helping start a family business with my brothers. But for now...”
“Where should I start?”
“I have a list of places her credit card appeared before the company shut it off but it’s impossible for it to have been her using it. This is her charge in Denver, then Florida, then California, then Texas. Her last use was the restaurant. We’ve interviewed those people. They were as helpful as we’d expect. We had patrol officers search the sur
rounding area—nothing to report. The hotels within walking distance have been checked...”
“Hey, if she had a plane reservation, wouldn’t she have had a suitcase?” Dakota asked.
“She might have, but we were looking in alleys and Dumpsters for anything that might have been hers. If her purse was lost or stolen, usually the IDs, credit cards and cash are taken out and the purse discarded. There was nothing. But I think you should start there. You might uncover something by talking to the people who last saw her—waitstaff, cashier, busser. Then walk around with your flyers. In the meantime, we’re putting her picture up on social media and in the patrol reports so officers can be watching. Do you have any help in the search?”
“For now it’s just me but I’m meeting the private detective after I leave here. We’re meeting at the restaurant where she had her last meal.” That statement made him wince.
* * *
Dakota talked to Bob Packard at least twice during the day and every evening. He gave him a full report on what he was learning and urged him to stay in Connecticut on the chance Sedona found her way home. Bob agreed, with great difficulty as he was growing impatient and ever more worried.
“My mother and sister are staying at the house, propping us up and feeding us during this crisis,” he said. “I’ll stay a few more days but then I’m coming to Colorado to help look for her. That’s where she disappeared, that’s where she’s going to be found.”
“I agree that’s likely,” Dakota said. “Stay where you are a little longer while I keep canvassing the area she was last seen. And tell me more about Sedona.”
“I didn’t notice anything was wrong for a long time. She was a quirky perfectionist but I worked with a guy who lines up his pens and polishes the glass top of his desk every morning. She was not very social—she didn’t like to be around people she didn’t know well and crowds made her crazy. Is that weird? I run an architecture firm, and talk about antisocial perfectionists... She was always busy, she worked hard and for a long time was an amazing wife. Amazing. A spotless house, smart and clean children, good food on the table every night. I took her completely for granted, but she said she liked it that way. It wasn’t until two, three, maybe four years ago that I started to notice patterns—like a routine for how she worked in her kitchen, a routine to include things like wiping the counter a certain way, then going back and doing it all again...and again... She folded things like napkins a certain way, making a little V at the end of the toilet tissue. And she wasn’t sleeping much. She was jumpy and edgy, and when she thought I wasn’t paying attention, she was talking to herself. Not a little bit. A lot. That’s when I started to get worried. But I didn’t think it was anything that couldn’t be fixed.”
