The Family Gathering (Sullivan's Crossing #3)(59)

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 surrounding area—nothing to report. The hotels within walking distance have been checked...”