"Unmarked but Not Forgotten"

**This story immediately follows "El Toro Bravo"**

"A statue stands in a shaded place
An angel girl with an upturned face
A name is written on a polished rock
A broken heart that the world forgot"
― Martina McBride "Concrete Angel"

CHAPTER 1

As he made his final approach at the Los Angeles International Airport, private investigator Matt Houston heaved a sigh of relief. He had been away in Texas helping the Coast Guard end a hostage situation aboard an offshore oil platform and attending the funeral of Griffin McAdoo, a long-time former employee of his dad's. The man had been killed a couple of days previously during the attack on the platform where he worked.

When the plane rolled to a stop in front of the hangar, Matt could see his wife CJ and daughter Catey Rose waiting for him. After shutting down everything on the plane, he picked up his bag and headed out onto the tarmac, giving his two ladies a big hug. "I sure did miss you two." He tickled Catey on the chin and was rewarded with a big smile from her. "You don't look any worse for wear after your shots, little lady." He gave her a kiss on the forehead. After stashing his bag in the back of CJ's Navigator, he slid into the passenger seat.

"So have you heard anything from Michael about the cold cases?" Matt glanced over at his wife. When he had received the call asking for his help in Texas the private investigator had been going over some cold case files with his friend, LAPD Lt. Michael Hoyt.

"No, I haven't."

Matt pulled out his phone and called his friend. "Hey Bud, how's it going?"

"It's not. I swear I don't know how they expect us to get anything done with all the paperwork that we're required to fill out." The harried lieutenant heaved a sigh. "Are you back in town?"

"Yep, just landed and CJ and I are headed toward the office. Do you still want some help with the cold cases?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind; I can always use some help."

"Alright, I'll get my truck at the office and come on by there. See you in a few." He hung up. "You know, it's a good thing he finally took my advice on the yogurt – I can only imagine how bad his ulcers would be by now if he hadn't."

After seeing his wife and daughter to the elevator of the Houston Industries Building, Matt headed for the police station. Jogging up the stairs, he hit the door to the fourth floor and stopped by the coffee pot on his way into his friend's office.

"Howdy." He walked over to the desk and Hoyt handed him a stack of folders to go through.

"Guess you know this makes you a glutton for punishment." The veteran cop gave Matt a lopsided grin.

"Obviously – look at who I run around with." He plopped down on the couch, propped his feet on the coffee table and took a sip of coffee as he opened the first folder.

"Sorry to hear about your friend."

"Thanks. He was one tough old guy – and a hell of a good man." Matt got quiet and started reading through the file. "I didn't see this one the other day. Good Lord! This thing is from 1988." He chuckled. "That was a good year."

"I remember '88 – I had two jobs: running a paper route and cutting grass. Made quite a bit of money that summer – and the next. I was saving up for a car." The cop grinned.

"Mine was better than that – I met my future wife." Matt smiled.

"Okay, you win." They both went back to work.

Matt reached back into his back pocket and pulled out a notebook and began jotting down information about the case that involved the kidnapping of a seven year old girl named Alyssa Renee Coltrane. Her parents were going through a nasty divorce at the time and the father was first suspected of taking the girl but was proven innocent. The mother's boyfriend had also been a suspect but no proof was found linking him to it. After a couple of months, the case had fallen between the cracks and been shifted to inactive status.

Reading further, Matt saw that several phone calls had been received both by Alyssa's mother and the police, with the person calling disguising their voice. The caller, who could not be identified as either male or female, had insisted that Alyssa was alive and well. Other than finding her bicycle and sweater on the school playground, no other trace of her was ever found.

"Not much to work with on this one." He flipped through it again. "I'm gonna go run a check on these folks and see if they still live in the area." Standing up and stretching, he grabbed the cup of coffee and downed about half of it before going to the outer office and hijacking Luis Sanchez's computer to do his research.

The first name he entered into the database was Michael Dean Coltrane, Alyssa's father. Other than an arrest for pot possession when he was eighteen, Coltrane hadn't been in any other trouble. Next he tried the mother, Margaret Renee Dennison-Coltrane. She had absolutely no criminal records other than a few parking tickets. "Okay, let's look at the boyfriend. Roger Allen Carpenter…" He waited and then gave a surprised whistle. "Oh boy, this should be interesting." Roger Carpenter had been picked up twice for DUI, once for possession with intent to sell, and twice for indecent exposure before he and Margaret Carpenter had started dating. "Wonder if she knew about that?" The private eye jotted down the information in his notebook.

Hoyt came out to get a cup of coffee and noticed that Matt's nose was almost glued to the monitor. "Did you find something interesting or do you need glasses, PI?"

"Something interesting. Look here." He leaned back in the chair and tapped on the screen.

"Humph. That is interesting. That's usually a stepping stone on the way to becoming a rapist."

"I've got the current addresses for all three of them…looks like Margaret and Roger got married about a year after Alyssa disappeared." Matt stood up.

"Let me get my jacket – I want to go, too."

On the ride over to Roger and Margaret Carpenter's house, Hoyt asked Matt how it had been working with the Coast Guard's Direct Action Section. "They're good at their jobs." He didn't seem to want to say a lot about it so Michael let it go.

They arrived at the Carpenter's house – an older home in a not-so-nice section of the city. The yard was overgrown with weeds and beer cans were scattered all over. In the back portion of the driveway a rusted out car was up on blocks, the hood raised and what appeared to be a bird's nest was resting on the engine block. Matt and Michael looked at each other and rolled their eyes as they made their way up the front walk. The front door of the house was open and a TV could be heard blaring; Michael knocked on the nearly-rotted screen door frame. "Hope it doesn't fall apart," he whispered to the PI, who snickered.

After Hoyt had knocked three times, a male voice could be heard from inside. "MAGGIE! ANSWER THE FREAKIN' DOOR!"

A woman who appeared to be about sixty finally shuffled up to the door. "Yeah, what?" A cigarette dangled from the corner of her mouth; a dingy yellow halter top and a pair of extremely short denim shorts didn't do anything to improve her appearance.

Flashing his badge, Michael introduced himself and Matt. "Mrs. Carpenter? We'd like to talk to you about Alyssa's disappearance."

Margaret Carpenter took a drag off of the cigarette sending a plume of smoke upward. "You're about twenty five years too late."

"Ma'am, we've been asked to take another look at the case and we could sure use your help." Houston could smell beer on her breath – a lot of it – and it wasn't much past 11:00am.

"Oh, okay – I don't know what you two can find that the rest of the cops back then didn't find." She stepped out the door and plopped down on a decrepit-looking porch swing. In the harsh glare of the sun she looked more like seventy than the fifty years old that she really was.

"Mrs. Carpenter, we were wondering – did you ever receive any more phone calls telling you that Alyssa was alive and well after you reported the last one –" Matt looked at his notebook, "…fifteen days after her disappearance?"

"No, I didn't. Wouldn't have mattered if I had – the cops had already quit looking for her by then." She gave Hoyt a dirty look. "But I guess you two were still wet behind the ears then, huh?"

Skipping right over her remark, Matt kept to the subject. "Do you remember the names of any of her friends?"

"That was twenty five years ago. Do you really think I would remember that?" She gave Matt an incredulous look.

The same booming male voice could be heard again from inside the house. "Whoever the hell it is tell 'em we ain't buyin' and get your butt back in here and get me a beer!"

Margaret stood up and headed for the door. "Might as well, this is a waste of time."

Hoyt stopped the woman and handed her one of his cards. "Please call me at that number if you think of anything else." She took the card, stuffed it down into the front of the halter and headed back into the house, the screen door screeching closed behind her. The cop turned to Matt. "I think we should avoid Roger at the moment, how about you?"

"Yep." Matt turned and headed down the steps and the crumbly walkway back to Michael's car. They left headed to Michael Coltrane's house, which was several miles away from his ex-wife's home, although for the amount of difference between the two, it could have been in an entirely different universe. When they pulled up in front of the house they saw a man in his early fifties out trimming the boxwood hedges along the property line. He turned and walked toward the two detectives.

"Can I help you fellas with something?" He took off his gloves, wiping his brow with a bandana, and leaned the hedge trimmers against a birdbath that was surrounded with ivy.

"Are you Michael Coltrane?" Hoyt pulled out his badge.

"I sure am – is there something wrong?" The man wiped his brow once again.

Hoyt repeated the introductions. "We'd like to ask you some questions regarding your daughter's disappearance."

"Okay. Listen would you like a glass of tea? I'm about to melt out here and could sure use one." He turned and headed for a picnic table in the shade of a large oak tree. "My wife should be out in just a minute with it. Have a seat why don't you."

Matt and Michael sat down across from the man who was eyeing the PI with curiosity. "He said your name is Matt Houston? Are you the private eye that was on TV the other day? On an oil rig in Texas?"

"Yes sir, I was." The PI looked slightly embarrassed.

"Boy – that was sure some kind of mess. And all those folks who got killed…terrible. Makes you wonder what the world is coming to. But you wanted to talk to me about Alyssa? Hang on a second. Lizzie – can you bring out a couple of extra glasses? We've got company." The woman nodded and waved before heading back in for the glasses.

"We were wondering if you ever received any more phone calls telling you that your daughter was okay." Hoyt loosened his tie a little bit.

"No, the last one we got was about two weeks after she disappeared. We reported it to the police."

"Would you happen to remember the names of any of her friends?" Matt as well as Hoyt stood as Mrs. Coltrane reached the table.

"You boys have a seat." She poured the tea and handed the glasses around.

"These men are with the police department – they're looking back into Alyssa's case."

"Well that's good. What can we do to help?" Lizzie Coltrane spoke with a very distinctive accent.

"Yes ma'am. We were just asking if your husband could remember the names of any of Lizzie's friends." Matt took a sip of the tea.

"Mike, we've got a gentleman from the state of Texas here with us." She gave Matt a big smile. "If I'm not mistaken, you're from the Houston area, aren't you?"

"Yes ma'am. I was born in Lubbock and raised from the age of five in Houston."

"I'm from Dallas. You know, you look familiar. I could swear I've seen you somewhere…" Scrunching up her eyes, Lizzie looked at their guest again.

"He's the private investigator that was in on that raid on the oil rig the other day." Mr. Coltrane filled her in on it.

"You sure are! I knew I'd seen you somewhere before." She smiled. "Bless your heart; you're a bashful one aren't you?"

Matt, whose face had turned beet red, quickly took another sip of tea while Hoyt chuckled at his friend's obvious discomfort. The PI quickly changed the subject. "We were just asking Mr. Coltrane if he remembered any of Alyssa's friends."

"Oh, I can help you with that…be right back." She headed back into the house leaving Michael and Matt to look questioningly at each other.

"Lizzie was Alyssa's teacher when she disappeared." Coltrane took a long sip of tea. "Those were some dark days. My wife and I were already going through a rough divorce and Alyssa's disappearance just drove even more of a wedge between us."

"Sir, could I ask you why you two got divorced?" Matt wondered just when the two couples had gotten together.

"I found out Margaret was cheating on me with a guy named Roger Carpenter. As a matter of fact, they got married about a year later."

"Yes sir, we just came from there." The private eye took another swallow. "Do you have any idea what Alyssa thought about Roger Carpenter? Did she like him or complain about him at all?"

"She couldn't stand him. That's why I fought so hard to get custody. Back then it was rare for a man to get custody of the children…but I fought tooth and nail. She went missing two days before we were scheduled to have a court hearing about it."

"That's a pretty big coincidence, don't you think?" Michael chimed in.

"And that's exactly what the police thought. The detective in charge of the case at the time was trying to pin it on me, but I had been out of town on an installation job at a Navy base. They had me on video to prove that I was where I was supposed to be."

"What about Carpenter? I understand they looked at him, but nothing much was really said about him." Houston took another swallow of the tea.

Coltrane nodded. "See, I always wondered about him. He would get in foul moods and it didn't take much to set him off – like a keg of dynamite waiting for a spark. And he drank a lot – I didn't want Alyssa around that. It's a bad combination."

Lizzie Coltrane walked back out and joined them holding a laptop. "Here are pictures of my class that year…such great students! Three of them are doctors now and several others are in computer technology jobs. Here's a list of their names." She pointed to the screen and Matt and Michael both jotted down the names.

"Mr. Coltrane," Matt put his notebook away, "Can you think of anyone who might have taken your daughter?"

"No." The man looked at the two detectives. "Alyssa was a sweet little girl. Never any trouble, always happy and smiling. That's how I try to remember her." His wife took him by the hand.

"We appreciate your help…"Michael pulled out one of his cards as did Matt and they asked the couple to call them if they happened to think of anything else. After saying their goodbyes, the two walked back to Hoyt's car. "So I guess we try to track these folks down and see if Alyssa mentioned anything to them."

"What about the evidence? The report said that they found her sweater and bicycle at the school playground…I know they had DNA evidence back then, but what if we could run it again? It might pick up something that the technology in '88 couldn't."

"Sounds like a good case for Cheryl. You want to do the honors while I drive?" Michael started the car and Matt called his favorite CSI tech to ask for her help.