Unmissing(60)

While I’ve only known Detective Rhinehart two hours, he strikes me as a patient man. Unfortunately, his patience underserves this situation. I need someone to move on this now.

“I don’t know where they are right now, but his wife and kids are in danger.” I nudge the stack of papers closer to him and flip to the policy declaration pages. “If he did this to me, he’ll do it to them.”

He draws in a slow breath, scanning the papers. “It’s not unusual for someone to take a policy out on their family members—and it’s certainly not against the law.”

“But given this man’s history with insurance policies . . .”

He grimaces. “There’s an order to everything. If he’d been charged with this crime, we might have probable cause to—”

“So because he got away with it, you’re not going to do anything?” I don’t mean to interrupt, but come on.

“I’m more concerned with getting your case closed, Lydia,” he says. “And while I know it’s you, we’ve still got to go through the proper channels. Probably start with a DNA test . . .” He exhales, cheeks inflating as his voice trails into his own silent thoughts. Making a quick note on his legal pad, he continues, “And in the meantime, we’ll have to piece together your story a bit more. Solidify it if we can. You say you’ve been off the grid the last ten years . . . could be tricky. Definitely going to take some time. We’ll also need to bring in Mr. Coletto for—”

“There isn’t going to be a Mr. Coletto to bring in if you don’t find him.” I rise. “I’m telling you, he took his wife and kids, and he’s going to do something to them. I know it.”

He studies me, leaning back in his chair. “Do you know where he might’ve gone?”

I shrug. “No idea.”

“At any time, did Mr. Coletto state he was going to harm them?”

My jaw falls slack. “No offense, Detective, but did you not hear a word I said? This man is a sociopath and a murderer, and he’s got five million dollars waiting for him if he does what I think he’s about to do. What I know he’s about to do . . .”

“Yeah.” He chews the inside of his lip. “I heard it all. Problem is, I can’t go to my sergeant and tell him we’ve got to put out a search party for some family all because some woman walked in off the streets with a hunch.” Before I can protest, he lifts a palm. “No offense to you either. Not saying I don’t believe you, but that’s not how this works. Unless we have evidence or probable cause, some reason to think his wife and kids are in immediate danger, legally there’s nothing we can do.”

I collapse into the opposite chair and bury my face in my hands.

If I can’t save Merritt and the kids from The Monster, I’ll never forgive myself.

“Other issue is, there was a reward fund set up for you,” he says. “Can’t remember the exact amount, but it was meant to encourage people to come forward with information leading to your whereabouts. Obviously that never happened, but a few years back, we had some lady wander in claiming she was you. Looked nothing like you and refused to let us swab her, so it wasn’t hard to turn her away. But on the off chance you’re not Lydia . . .”

“No, I understand. You have to do your vetting. I get it.”

“If you want to wait here, I’ll go grab a DNA swab kit. We can at least collect that while you’re here.” Rhinehart heads for the door.

“What are you going to do if there’s no DNA to compare it to?” I ask.

“Got any family you can call? Someone we can use as a positive identifier?”

I shake my head. My mom—who was an only child—is dead. Couldn’t even begin to guess my father’s name. Never met a single grandparent. Never had a cousin that I know of.

“None that I can think of,” I say.

His head tilts. “Surely there’s someone.”

I shrug. “Nope.”

“I’ll dig into your file. You’d be surprised who comes out of the woodwork when someone goes missing.”

“I won’t hold my breath.”

He gives a terse nod. “Wait here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Detective Rhinehart returns two minutes later with a sterile kit and swabs my nose and mouth before sealing it in a baggie, which he labels with my name.

“I’m sure this feels a bit anticlimactic for you,” he says. “After all you’ve been through, I mean. But this is step one. We’ll send it off to the lab, get it in our database, go from there.”

“How long will this take to process?”

His eyes apologize before his mouth gets a chance. “Could take weeks? I’ll have my sergeant see if he can move it to the top of the pile as a personal favor.”

“What do I do in the meantime?”

His brows rise. “In the meantime, don’t go anywhere. Don’t do anything. Stay away from Mr. Coletto. Rest assured I’ll be keeping an eye on him.”

“But what if he doesn’t come back to Bent Creek?”

“You let me worry about that, okay?” Sliding a yellow pad and pen across his desk, he adds, “Write down your name and number here. I’ll get ahold of you once I talk to my sergeant.”