Unveiling the Past

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  He pulled into the four-level parking garage a half block from their office building. She didn’t need her sunglasses in the shadowy interior, so she tucked them into her attaché case for easy access when they vacated the garage. Sean located a spot on the second level and parked. The moment she stepped from the air-conditioned cab, humidity prickled her flesh. They took the concrete steps to the street level and set off up the sidewalk at a brisk pace.

  Scattered clouds hid the sun, so she left her sunglasses in her case, but the clouds did little to cool things. Summer wasn’t due for another month, but here it was, not quite eight in the morning, and the thermometer on the bank building across the street showed seventy-one degrees. The air was still, and the smell of exhaust permeated the area. Meghan wrinkled her nose and couldn’t hold back a soft snort.

  Sean glanced at her.

  She waved her arm in the direction of the street. “If we worked from home, we wouldn’t have to breathe in exhaust fumes. Or make that commute.” Sean’s clenched jaw let her know she’d said too much. Why hadn’t she stuck to her original plan to bring up the going-independent idea over dinner?

  She reached for his hand. “Ignore me. I didn’t sleep well last night, and I guess I’m a little grumpy.”

  He offered a quick smile, squeezed her fingers, then let go. Although demonstrative at home, Sean never showed her affection on the job. He was always a gentleman, though, which he proved by opening the door for her and gesturing her into the building.

  Two of their coworkers, partners Tom Farber and Greg Dane, were waiting beside the tarnished doors to the ancient elevator, coffeehouse disposable cups in their hands. Tom grimaced when Meghan and Sean reached them.

  “We’ll probably have to take the stairs. I think it’s stuck again.” Tom pushed the activation button three times, grunting with each thrust of his thumb. He muttered a curse under his breath. “Worthless piece of junk.”

  The four of them trudged to the enclosed staircase at the rear of the building, both Tom and Greg mumbling complaints as they went. More reasons to work from home—no faulty elevators and no dealing with coworkers’ foul language. Not that the other detectives or their supervisor swore like sailors. She’d heard worse in her college dormitory.

  But Sean never swore. After working closely with him and then having the privilege of being his wife, she’d become more sensitive to cursing. Sean said it was because her spirit was growing more in tune with the Holy Spirit, and she liked that idea. She’d include not having to listen to unwholesome talk as a reason for working from home.

  The other two cold-case detectives, Tyler Roach and Anthony Johnson, were already at their desks when Meghan, Sean, Tom, and Greg entered the cold-case unit’s area. So was their captain, Ken Ratzlaff, who sat on the edge of Sean’s desk. The captain glanced at what Meghan called his Dick Tracy watch and scowled.

  “The elevator’s not working.” Tom yanked out his chair and slumped into the seat. “So we had to hoof it. It’s three flights, you know.”

  Greg swiped his sweaty forehead. “Gotta be ninety-plus degrees in that staircase. I thought we’d croak.”

  Captain Ratzlaff released a rare chuckle. “Eagle and DeFord don’t seem winded.” To avoid confusion on the job, the team had continued to call Meghan by her maiden name, but when she and Sean went independent, she’d name their agency Eagle Investigations.

  Anthony tilted his computer screen and squinted at it through his glasses with thick lenses. “Of course they’re not winded. Everyone knows the two of them are”—he made his voice high and squeaky—“ ‘practically perfect in every way.’ ” Tom and Greg groaned, and Anthony grinned. “Sorry. Watched Mary Poppins last night with my nine-year-old daughter.”

  Meghan set her attaché case on her desk and slid into her chair. Sean sat at his desk, which butted Meghan’s so they were facing each other. He winked at her.

  “Intriguing.” Captain Ratzlaff stood and folded his arms over his chest. “Well, practically perfect Eagle pair, would you follow me to my office? I want to discuss a new case with you.”

  Meghan sent the man an uneasy look. “But we haven’t solved the Dunsbrook case yet.”

  The captain headed across the floor, poking his thumb over his shoulder. “Pass it to Farber and Dane for now. They closed their investigation yesterday, so they can pick up where you left off.”

  Meghan followed Captain Ratzlaff with Sean on her heels. She didn’t look, but she suspected Tom and Greg were shooting glares after them. No one wanted to take a half-completed case. She wouldn’t blame them a bit for being disgruntled, and she couldn’t help worrying about why the captain wanted to pull her and Sean from a case they’d spent two months investigating. If Ratzlaff was unhappy with them, they’d know soon enough. The man had never been one to mince words.

  Their boss snapped his office door closed and nodded toward the worn leather sofa stretched in front of a trio of tall windows overlooking the street. They sat, and he leaned against the edge of his Volkswagen-sized desk. The desk’s metal creaked, and the sofa’s leather squeaked in unison. Then the room fell silent.

  Ratzlaff gripped the edge of the desk, his elbows jutting outward, and aimed a frown in their direction. “I’m not generally in the habit of letting someone else dictate who will investigate which case. But I’ve got what I’d call a kinda special situation, and the person who alerted us to it requested a female investigator. DeFord, that means you.”

  The tension in her shoulders released. She and Sean wouldn’t receive a reprimand. Questions crowded her brain, but before she could ask any of them, Ratzlaff crunched his face into a rueful scowl and continued.

  “Eagle, you’ve been pretty gung ho about finding the killer of those two little boys, so I’m gonna give you an option here. I’d like to put DeFord on the new case, but if you want to stick with the Dunsbrook murders, I’ll pair her with either Farber or Dane. Then you can finish the investigation with whichever of those two are at loose ends.”

  Captain Ratzlaff drummed his fingertips against the desk’s metal front, creating a discordant percussion solo. “What’s your pleasure on this one?”

  Sean leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and Meghan fully expected him to offer to step away from the Dunsbrook case. “Before I let you know, would you tell us what the new case is about?”

  Four

  Sean

  Meghan’s soft huff of breath let Sean know she wasn’t thrilled by his question. He wasn’t even sure why he’d asked it. Why hadn’t he told Ratzlaff he wasn’t interested in switching partners even for one case? Maybe he’d gotten himself more tangled up in the Dunsbrook murders than he’d realized. Or maybe he was holding a hint of resentment about Meghan’s stubborn refusal to consider starting a family and needed some separation.

  Ratzlaff reached behind him and picked up a folder. He held it like a choir book and scowled at it. “March 22, 2002, Anson Menke, a loan officer at Union National Bank and Trust in Fort Smith, was reported missing by his wife, Carleena, when he didn’t return home from work. The same day, someone from UNB&T told the bank president that Menke had embezzled close to a million dollars over a fourteen-year period. Although the Arkansas Bureau of Investigation did quite a bit of digging, no direct evidence was ever found connecting Menke to the theft. Even so, his sudden disappearance, coupled with testimony by two employees at the bank that Menke had been acting edgy in the weeks before he disappeared, was enough to convince a judge that he’d taken the money and fled the country.”

  Sean raised his hand. “Excuse me for interrupting, but we’ve done missing-person and embezzlement cases before. None of this sounds all that special.” Certainly not worth putting aside the Dunsbrook case.

  Ratzlaff lowered the folder and frowned at Sean. “I didn’t say the case was special. I said the situation was special.”

  Meghan sh
ifted to the edge of the cushion. “What’s special about it?”

  The captain dropped the folder on top of a stack of papers on the corner of his desk and stared at it. “The people left behind.”

  Sean waited for him to explain his cryptic statement, but the man seemed to have drifted off somewhere. He glanced at Meghan, who sat with her concerned gaze pinned on their boss.

  Sean cleared his throat. “Cap?”

  Ratzlaff gave a jolt and looked at Sean.

  “Did you know Anson Menke?”

  Ratzlaff grunted. “Not personally. But I know about him. Anson Menke had three kids—a girl and two boys. They were only ten, seven, and three years old when he left. The younger boy, Brandon, joined my Boy Scout troop when he was eight. He graduated from high school this past Sunday, and I was there to watch him walk across the stage and get his diploma. Not the same as having his father there, but…”

  The captain rounded his desk with plodding steps and sank into his desk chair. He linked his hands on his stomach and sent a sad look across the desk. “Brandon had to walk that stage without either of his parents watching him. Obviously his dad wasn’t there, and—to make things worse—his mother died a little over a month ago. Liver failure, brought on by lupus.”

  Tears flooded Meghan’s eyes. “Oh, that’s so sad.”

  Even though they were on duty, Sean couldn’t resist putting his hand on her knee. She covered his hand with hers and held tight. He welcomed the touch. He hadn’t been much older than Brandon was now when he’d lost his parents, and he remembered the pain and confusion of that time. At least the Menke boy had a brother and sister. He wasn’t totally alone.

  “Won’t argue with you there. Carleena went to her grave believing that Anson didn’t abandon his family.” Ratzlaff released a soft snort. “His kids don’t know what to think. But they need answers. The girl—her name is Sheila—talked to me at Brandon’s graduation party and asked if I’d try to find out what happened to her dad. These kids want answers. They deserve answers.”

  Meghan gave a slow nod. “I can see why the case is personal to you, but I’m still not clear on why you need me, specifically, on it.”

  The captain sat forward and stacked his arms on the edge of his desk. “Lemme be blunt. Carleena was sick from the time Brandon was born, so Sheila had to grow up overnight when her dad disappeared. She helped raise the boys and took on a lot of responsibility in the house even though she was still pretty much a little girl. She carries a load of resentment, and she doesn’t trust men. She asked for a female detective because she wants to be fully involved in the investigation, and she feels more comfortable talking to a woman.”

  He sat back and held his hands wide. “Like I said earlier, I’m not in the habit of letting someone tell me how to assign my cases, but this time I’d like to honor the request. Besides…” A slight smile lifted the corners of his stern lips, and he pointed at Meghan. “I trust you. I trust your instincts, and I trust your ability to tactfully handle Sheila’s interference. Because I’m pretty sure she’ll poke her way into the middle of everything. She’s a do-it-herself kind of gal.”

  Sean swallowed a chuckle. Sheila sounded a lot like Meghan. “She probably had to be, given the circumstances.” The same way Meghan had grown up fast, saddled—in his opinion—too early with responsibility by her single mother. Meghan would be able to understand Sheila’s resentment about being abandoned, too, since her father had disappeared even before she was born.

  Unease wriggled through his center. Maybe Meghan had too many connections to Sheila Menke. Would it be detrimental to her emotional well-being to take on the case? He sent a sidelong look at his wife. The sharp V of her eyebrows and her sucked-in lips gave evidence of deep thought. Or deep uncertainty.

  He turned to the captain, prepared to ask him to consider allowing Dane and Farber to head the investigation.

  Meghan pushed up from the sofa and crossed to the desk. “I appreciate your confidence in me, Captain. I’ll investigate, and I’ll do my best to put Sheila at ease. But I don’t want to work with Tom or Greg. Nothing against them personally. It’s just that I work best with my partner.” She angled herself and pinned Sean with a hesitant yet hopeful half smile. “Are you in, partner?”

  He stood. “Cap, would it be okay if Meghan and I had a private conversation? It shouldn’t take long.”

  Ratzlaff shrugged and pushed out of his chair. “The only private place up here is my office. I’ll go touch base with the other detectives while you two decide what you want to do.” He strode out and closed the door behind him.

  Sean took Meghan’s hand and drew her back down on the sofa. “Meg, I don’t think you should rush into this one.”

  She slipped her hand free and pushed a stray strand of brown hair behind her ear. “I know you’d like to see the Dunsbrook case through to the end, but doesn’t it seem as if this one should take priority? Captain Ratzlaff has a personal connection to the case. He was willing to set other things aside and put you on the case that was personal to me a few years ago—finding Grandma’s lost sister. Don’t we kind of owe him this one?”

  He searched her expression. “Is that the only reason you want to take this case?”

  “Isn’t it reason enough?”

  “No.”

  She looked aside.

  He pulled in a deep breath. “I’m gonna be honest with you. I’m not sure this case is right for you.”

  She jerked her face toward him so sharply her ponytail flopped over her shoulder. Defensiveness glittered in her eyes. “Why?”

  “Searching for a father who might have abandoned his family?” He spoke softly, kindly, unwilling to hurt her. The subject of her absent father had always been a prickly one. “Is that really something you want to take on, considering your father abandoned you and your mom?”

  “Yeah. I think it gives me an…edge. I can relate to these kids. I know how they feel.”

  Sean cupped her upper arms and rubbed his hands up and down the sleeves of her plaid lightweight blouse. “Which is why I think it might be hard for you to be objective. You know Cap’s rule about investigating—don’t get personally involved, because it affects your ability to reason.”

  She laughed, shaking her head. “Don’t preach at me when you don’t take his advice. You throw your whole self into every case we’re assigned. It’s why you’re such a great investigator. You really care about solving the mystery. It makes you dig deeper, look harder, explore every angle.”

  “And even then, sometimes I fail.” If they failed on this one, it would hit Meghan harder.

  “But mostly you succeed.” She grabbed his hands, and a sheen of tears brightened her eyes. “I want to try to find their father. And…” She glanced down at their joined hands, swallowed, then pinned him with a fervent look. “I want to find my father.”

  Three or four times a year since they’d exchanged wedding vows, he’d suggested searching for her father, and she always resisted. She wasn’t manipulative. She wouldn’t pull that out of the air to sway him to her side. So he knew she was being honest. But the timing seemed odd. “Why now?”

  “I need to know who I am. All the way through. I won’t until I meet my father and get to know him. Once I’ve uncovered all the parts of me, maybe I’ll feel better about having a baby.”

  She’d said “maybe,” which was a far cry from absolute certainty, but at least she’d cracked the door of possibility open. Still, he needed her to understand something. “Meg, who your parents are doesn’t define who you are. Sure, you inherited your looks and some of your mannerisms from them, but a gene pool isn’t the only thing that makes you who you are. Your personal convictions, your desires and determination, and—mostly—your commitment to honor God with your life…those are what matter. If you ask God to mold you into the person He designed you to be, He will. You only have to lis
ten for His voice and follow where He leads.”

  She twisted slightly, dislodging his hands, and stood. “That’s easy for you to say. You had such great examples, and your parents taught you about God from the time you were tiny. I’m kind of like a toddler Christian. I still have a whole lot to learn. I need you to be patient with me.” She folded her arms. “And I need you to work with me on this investigation.”

  He stared at her stiff frame and her unsmiling face. She wouldn’t budge on this one. He really wanted to finish the Dunsbrook case. He’d already spent two months on it and developed a rapport with the twins’ parents, and he sensed he was close to a breakthrough. He couldn’t guarantee how close, though. A day? A week? A month? The captain wanted Anson Menke found now for the sake of the man’s motherless children.

  Sean rose. “Before you tell Cap you want to jump cases, how about we have a sit-down with Sheila Menke? Make sure the two of you are compatible.”

  Meghan pursed her lips. “It’s an investigation, not a courtship.”

  “I know, but Ratzlaff said the girl likes to be in charge. Even though she wants to work with a female investigator, it might not be in your best interests to work with her.” Especially since Meghan intended to also search for her own father. Two cases, so similar, might be too emotionally taxing. He wouldn’t put Meghan through it. “So let’s chat first, get to know her a little bit, then decide. Okay?”

  Five

  Kendrickson, Nevada

  Diane

  Diane closed the cover on the folder containing Student 14’s term paper about black holes and dropped it on the graded stack in the middle of the breakfast nook’s round table. Two more to go…She slipped her glasses to the top of her head, closed her eyes, and rubbed her temples.

  A chuckle sounded from the kitchen. “That bad, huh?”