Ch. 2: Absence of Light
"You have got to be shitting me."
Vic shined her flashlight around the area that Zach indicated. A light rain had started to fall just in the past few minutes. Zach moved up beside her and joined the beam of his flashlight with hers. It was hard to tell what they were looking at from here. It looked like a mess of dirt that would soon be mud if the rain continued. Vic cocked her head to the side and studied the ground.
"Hard to tell as messed up as it is. Who in the hell lets kids out on four wheelers this time of the night?"
Zach shook his head.
"I got the impression that their parents didn't know they were out. I don't think the parents were actually home."
Vic huffed under her breath.
"Ah…right. Makes more sense."
Vic looked up at the sky and sighed. Standing up, she passed her light to Zach.
"Here, hold this."
The area they were in was an unpopulated one as far as residences or businesses. It was a popular area for hunters, campers, and kids. Naturally, the remoteness of it was a draw for kids looking to get out from under the annoyingly watchful eyes of their parents. That was clearly what happened here. Zach's call brought her down a remote road to a dense wooded area with small clearings smattered throughout it. The terrain here varied from rocky to soft dirt. It was the soft dirt these kids chose to ride their four wheelers through and around, until one became mired, his front tire sinking too far for him to get out on his own. With the help of his brother, he had attempted to dig it out and swore that he saw a head. Or, at least the top of one.
Vic had her doubts. It certainly wouldn't be the first time they responded to someone who thought they saw one thing, only to find out it was something different entirely. She had learned, over time, to approach such situations with a degree of skepticism. Rattled kids in the dark could create some crazy scenarios.
Vic pulled a pair of latex gloves from her back pocket and pulled them on. Kneeling where the clear imprint of the tire was, she started to carefully push the dirt out of the way. Dubious or not, if there was a chance it was a crime scene, they needed to be careful not to disturb the area anymore than was necessary. The site was already contaminated from the kids.
The rain was coming down at a steadier pace. Not a downpour by any stretch, but heavier than the light rain it was only minutes before. Her jacket was wet and it was starting to soak through into her shirt a bit. Using her arm to push some hair out of her face, she pushed her hands into the dirt again.
Glancing up at Zach, she jutted her chin.
"Come this way a little."
He nodded and stood up, moving in closer and shining the light down from over her. Vic blinked a little in the glare of both lights, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Leaning her face closer to the ground, she used her fingers to brush a little dirt aside.
"Shit."
The word came out low, almost a whisper. Zach picked up on her tone and leaned in a little.
"See something?"
"Yeah."
Vic stood up. Pulling the gloves off, she shoved them into her jacket pocket and pushed the same stray strands of hair behind her ear. Zach offered her the flashlight back and she took it.
"Think it's a body?"
Vic looked across the small clearing where the kids were and back to Zach.
"Maybe. Call Ferg and get him out here. We need this area secure and we need statements taken. Detailed statements. And…let's see if we can get some kind of shelter over this spot. If this rain gets any harder, it's gonna be a problem."
Zach nodded and pulled his phone out.
"Right. On it."
Vic turned and looked back at the disturbed earth again. It had been some time since they had dealt with a potential murder. Not that this was necessarily that. Only time would reveal that detail. But, a buried body usually meant that there was something to hide. Foul play or, sometimes even something unintentional, but equally tragic.
Vic pulled her own phone out and checked the time. When she left home, some part of her had been hopeful that this would all prove to be someone's overactive imagination and that she would be home and back in bed where it was warm and dry before long.
Now, that clearly wasn't going to happen. The minutes were creeping by, counting down until the sun started to rise. And, they hadn't even really gotten started yet. Vic considered simply texting Walt. There was a chance he went back to sleep and she didn't want to wake him up. At least, he could get some rest. But, a different part of her wanted to hear his voice. She couldn't explain it and she nearly rolled her eyes at her own thoughts, but she decided to call him anyway.
"Hey."
He wasn't sleeping. He answered the phone too quickly and he sounded awake.
"You should be asleep."
"You should, too."
Vic smiled at his words.
"I agree. Wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, that's not gonna happen. Not any time soon, anyway."
A beat of silence passed between them through the connection before he answered.
"Did you find something?"
"Looks like it. We haven't really gotten started yet. And, the weather sucks. So…this should be fun all around."
She tried to infuse some humor into her words, but the attempt fell flat.
"Anyway...long story short…we're gonna be here for a while. So, don't wait up."
She knew that he would if he thought she might make it home.
"Okay. Try and stay dry."
Vic looked down at her wet clothes.
"Too late for that."
She glanced up to see Zach coming back her way, slowing when he saw her on the phone. Vic dipped her face down and turned her back.
"I gotta go. I'll see you later. Seriously, go to bed."
She could almost picture the smile on his face. She could hear it in his voice when he spoke.
"I will. See you."
Vic ended the call and tucked her phone away. Turning towards Zach, she cleared her throat.
"You get Ferg?"
Zach nodded.
"Yep. He's on his way."
Vic inhaled a deep breath and looked up at the ominous looking, dark sky.
"This is really gonna suck."
xxx
Under the best of circumstances, processing a crime scene was tedious work. Throw in the cover of night and nature in the form of rain, and you had the perfect recipe for misery. Ferg arrived on the scene with an open tent that they were able to cover the area with. It reminded Vic of the type you saw at funerals. But, she and Zach were already wet and muddy by that point. At least, they could keep the scene dry from this point forward.
It took them some time to unearth the wrapped-up bundle. Vic noted, almost immediately, the care with which it was wrapped. Over the course of her career in both Philadelphia and Absaroka County, she had seen a lot of bodies disposed of. It was one aspect of the job that never got any easier, seeing a human being tossed out like last week's garbage. Seeing a life taken and the body treated with no real dignity. It pulled at something inside of her every time. It was sometimes a reaction to try and push aside the humanity of this kind of job in order to protect yourself. It was instinct, really. But Vic was a firm believer that the day death no longer bothered you, that was the day you need to find a new line of work.
Humanity was the one thing they couldn't afford to lose.
Rarely had she seen a body wrapped as meticulously as the one they unearthed. It struck her almost as if the person had been buried in times past, before modern day funeral rituals and laws were in place. But, this body wasn't that old. The baby blue blanket that was wrapped around the figure was still intact and the color, despite the dirt and mud, was still true.
That one detail told her something immediately, the careful way the body was wrapped. The victim more than likely knew the person who placed them here. Likely, there was an existing relationship and some level of caring. Cold blooded or spur of the moment killers didn't take this kind of time. They certainly didn't care this much as odd as that sounded.
Ferg produced the department camera and took pictures before they went any further. The click of the camera and the sound of his heavy boots moving over the dirt seemed out of place here, in this quiet space. Vic glanced around. Despite the current activity, this place seemed peaceful and quiet. She wondered if that factored into the decision to bury this person here. Or was it the remoteness?
"Done."
Vic snapped back to the present and nodded at Ferg, who was busy putting the camera back into the bag and moving it out of the way. They would need it again in a few minutes. They would need pictures of the victim.
Vic sighed and pulled on a fresh pair of gloves. She knew what the teenagers saw. Either during burial or the four-wheeler incident, the top of the blanket was knocked loose, revealing a mop of wet, muddy hair. It looked like dark hair, although current conditions could make that misleading. Starting from that point, Vic started to work the blanket loose and open it up. Steeling herself, she pulled it carefully away from the face.
Vic inhaled and bit her lip at the youthfulness she could see. Dealing with the dead was difficult enough. A younger victim made it that much harder. It was boy, or maybe a young man. But, boy was the first word that jumped into her mind. A young life cut short before it ever really reached its full promise.
Teens, she would guess. Mid-teens. She knew that when Doc Weston did the autopsy, he would be able to confirm that to some degree. Vic swallowed and gestured for Ferg to get the camera again. She pushed ran her hands along the blanket, freeing up the rest of it and revealing the boy's entire body. He was dressed in jeans, a red-shirt, and scuffed sneakers. From her spot, she didn't see any obvious signs of injury. But, that would come with a more detailed examination and the autopsy.
Vic moved out of the way as Ferg started to click away with the camera again. Her eyes stayed on the face. A boy on the cusp of manhood. Maybe just barely old enough to drive. Certainly, old enough to have friends and a social life. She started to wonder about that. What was his life like? What led him to the circumstances which ended his life and wound up with him being buried in some remote part of the county. Did he have parents who were looking for him? Was he a runway?
The possibilities were endless. This wasn't the first young person whose body she had dealt with. In Philly, it was an all too common occurrence. With the crime rate and no shortage of gang related activity, there were times the job seemed depressingly never ending. Young lives that hadn't even peaked. Families that would be broken forever, future families that would never be created all because of someone's bad choices.
Vic shook her head and forced her mind back to the situation at hand. Nothing was served by allowing her mind to wander to darker places. Whoever this boy was, he mattered to someone. Even if he was in trouble of some kind leading up to his death, there was a moment in his life where he mattered. He was someone's son. Maybe someone's brother or grandson.
Ferg finished up with the camera again and glanced at Vic.
"Got 'em from every angle."
Vic nodded.
"Good. Let's…get to it."
xxx
By the time Walt woke up, the rain had stopped. He knew more was in the forecast. But, for now, the sky was overcast and gloomy. But the weather had improved somewhat. He dressed and started coffee like he did every other morning. But, the cabin was quiet. Too quiet. He was accustomed to hearing Vic getting ready for work, moving around, talking to herself or him. She wasn't a quiet person. She never had been. Over time, the sounds of her routines turned into something he looked forward to. After so much quiet when losing Martha, he hadn't even realized how much he missed sharing his life with someone.
Background noise or an actual conversation. It didn't matter. There were normal sounds of some kind. As much of an introvert as he could be, he actually appreciated sharing his day to day existence with her. He appreciated solitude. Even, craved it sometimes. Most people did at some point. But, there was an argument to be made for companionship. Someone whose presence made him feel less isolated, less alone the way he did for so long. He liked sharing his morning cup of coffee with her and talking about their plans for the day.
Walt stood in the kitchen, watching the coffee brew. It was already filling the cabin with a pleasant odor. But, everything else was quiet. He knew the drill. It would take the three of them quite some time to work the crime scene, especially with the less than stellar weather hampering their efforts. Pictures would need to be taken, evidence collected, the body transported. If there was a body. Vic hadn't confirmed that for sure, but he knew her well enough to know. He also knew that with Cady sidelined, all the leadership was falling to Vic. That would mean that she was running the scene and making the decisions.
Walt poured a cup of coffee and pulled on his boots. Walking out onto the porch, cup in hand, he approached the rail slowly. The day was looking morose. Gray cloud obscured any sky that might be visible and cast a pall over the early morning. He took a sip from his cup and let his eyes roam the distance. It was a cool morning that followed a cool night. Each day inched them closer to winter. That meant dropping temperatures and shorter days. More darkness.
The morning and the day seemed bleak. A far cry from the previous day that seemed to offer such promise. The weather was a powerful thing, seemingly alive and with moods that mirrored human nature. Or superseded it.
Today, that mood was dark.
Walt had already checked both his cell phone and the cordless that connected to his land line. Vic hadn't called him again. Not that he expected her to. She would have been busy all night. There was a strong chance she was still busy.
Walt took another sip from his cup and sighed. He hadn't even realized it, but his eyes were on the long road leading to the cabin. He was scanning the road for any signs of the familiar white truck.
Waiting for her to materialize.
xxx
"Damn it!"
Ruby looked up at Vic from her seat behind her desk.
"What's wrong?"
Vic sighed and shoved the bottom drawer of her desk closed with force.
"I thought I had another damn change of clothes in here."
Ruby gave her a sympathetic look.
Vic looked down at herself. Her clothes were still wet and muddy. Even if they dried on her, which would take some time, there wasn't much she could do about the streaks of mud that were on her shirt and her jeans.
"Why don't you go home? Get a shower? Change?"
Vic sank into her chair.
"Because, I sent Ferg and Zach home. Someone's gotta be here."
Ruby gave her a long, motherly look.
"Vic, the morning has been quiet so far. And, Ferg called a little while ago to let me know he was headed back and picking up some breakfast on the way in. Go home and get cleaned up. You are going to get sick walking around in those clothes in these temperatures."
The admonishment was gentle and maternal, very much Ruby. Vic wanted to argue, but she knew that the older woman was right. She was already chilled from not being able to get dry. Vic glanced at the cell phone on her desk, checking the time.
Were Ruby paying attention, she would be able to see the debate that Vic was having with herself. She really wanted to get started on this case. But, the body was at the hospital waiting for autopsy. Weston was pretty adamant that it would be after lunch before he could get the report to them. So, gave her some time. They were limited in what they could do until they had that report and all the information that it would contain.
And, she really wanted a shower. A hot shower.
Vic stood up slowly and relented.
"Okay. You're right."
That admission alone gave Ruby a look of satisfaction. Vic pulled on her jacket and fished in the pocket for her keys.
"I will go home and take a shower. Change clothes."
Ruby nodded.
"Sounds like a good idea. I'll let Ferg know when he gets here where you went."
Vic offered Ruby a weak smile as she headed for the door.
Outside, the air was cool. Vic slid into her truck and turned the heater up to get some warm air circulating in the cab. The sky overhead looked nothing short of depressing as she aimed her truck towards the cabin.
The closer she got to home, the more she felt tired and drained. The fatigue that she had been fighting off all morning was really starting to creep in and get a grasp on her. Vic was ready to be home, even if it was only for a little while. What she really wanted was a warm bed. But, that would have to wait.
A wave of relief washed over her when the cabin came into view. The Bronco was parked outside in its normal spot. She hoped that Walt had a fire going in the fireplace. It was a cool enough morning for it. She could almost picture him on the couch with his coffee and a well-worn paperback.
Vic parked and left the truck. A breeze blew through her, making her shiver. Vic walked quickly to the front door and pushed it open. The sensory overload hit her hard. She could smell coffee. The air was warm on her exposed skin. She could smell the scent of wood burning and hear the crackle of flames, the shifting of logs. For a long moment, she simply stood there, taking it all in. The sounds and the smells that she had come to associate with home. Comfort.
It was Walt who snapped her out of her fog.
"Vic?"
The sound of her name off of his lips brought her back to reality. She closed the door as he stood up and came towards her. She could see the way his eyes ran down her form and the obvious appraisal of her appearance.
"I need a shower."
Vic shrugged out of her jacket and hung it up. It was still damp. She trudged into the bedroom with Walt behind her. Sitting on the bed, she toed off her boots and peeled her socks off. Dropping her socks onto the floor, she pushed out a breath and looked up at Walt and the questions in his face.
"I gotta get back to work. But…"
She stood up from the bed and gestured at herself.
"I was out of clean clothes. So…"
She let the state of appearance speak for itself and started to unbutton her shirt. Walt studied her, his eyes moving over her with practice.
"Have you eaten?"
Vic dropped her shirt onto the floor near her discarded socks and started working on her belt.
"No."
That seemed to give him some purpose.
"I'll make you some breakfast while you're in the shower."
"Okay, thanks."
Walt gave her one last look before he left the room. Vic pushed her wet jeans down along with her underwear and bra and headed for the bathroom. She turned the shower on to warm up the water and pulled her hair loose from the messy ponytail that held it precariously out of her face. Combing her fingers through the damp strands, she set a clean towel out for herself and stepped under the spray of steaming water.
The hot water felt good. A little too good. Her mind betrayed her and reminded her how nice it would feel to put on her pajamas and crawl into bed. Vic pushed the thoughts from her mind as she scrubbed her fingers through her hair, the smell of soap and shampoo invading her senses. There was definitely something to be said for feeling clean.
She really wanted to linger in the shower and just let the water work its magic. But, she had too much to do. Reluctantly, she turned off the shower and stepped out, the air assaulting her wet skin and cooling it. Vic dried off and toweled her hair before she went into the bedroom to dress in clean work clothes. She quickly pulled on a long-sleeved thermal shirt and dry jeans along with her belt and a clean uniform shirt. With dry socks on her feet, she walked into the kitchen to find Walt busily scrambling eggs and brewing fresh coffee. She could also smell bread in the toaster browning.
On cue, the bread popped up. Walt nodded his head at it.
"That's yours."
Vic nodded and pulled the hot toast from the slots, setting it on a plate and retrieving the butter from the refrigerator. By the time she had buttered the toast, Walt was sliding eggs onto her plate and his own. Pouring herself a cup of coffee and adding cream and sugar, Vic sat down still stirring the now caramel colored liquid.
Walt took his seat across from her.
"Long night?"
Vic picked up her fork and started to eat.
"The longest."
He alternated between eating and watching her eat. She seemed hungry, eating her breakfast without much conversation.
"So…it was a body?"
Vic nodded and tore off a piece of her toast, popping it into her mouth with her eyes on her plate.
"Yep."
"Do you have an ID?"
Vic shook her head, raising her eyes to make brief contact with his.
"No. Weston is doing the autopsy this morning."
She shifted her eyes back down to her food. Walt looked down, studying his own plate, but not really seeing it. Normally, she talked about work with him. He couldn't quite decide if she was simply too tired or just trying to eat so that she could get back to work. Whichever it was, she seemed a bit off. Of course, that was to be expected with the type of case that had been dropped into her lap. He could see that she was tired. That much was obvious.
"Vic…"
Vic looked up at him from her food with an expression that quieted whatever it was he planned to say. She gave her head the slightest shake and swallowed.
"I…really don't want to talk about it right now."
Walt nodded slowly.
"Sure."
Accepting that, she continued to eat. Vic glanced towards the stove.
"Are there any more eggs?"
"No…that was all of them. I can make some more."
Vic shook her head.
"That's okay."
Walt's eyes dropped to her plate.
"Still hungry?"
Vic stood with her empty plate.
"A little. But…I'll be alright."
Walt rose, as well.
"It won't take long."
Vic just shook off his offer again.
"Nah…we have any granola bars or something?"
"I think so."
Vic set her plate in the sink and started to root around in the cabinets. Coming up with a half-used box of her preferred granola bars, she pulled out two and tossed them on the table. Walt placed his plate on top of hers in the sink.
"I'll get the dishes."
Vic nodded and flashed him a gone too quick smile.
"Thanks."
She disappeared into the bathroom. From where he stood in the kitchen, Walt could hear her moving around, no doubt brushing her teeth and pulling her hair back. He pulled out a travel mug, filled it with the remainder of the coffee, and added her too much cream and sugar.
When she came back in, the mug was sitting on the table beside her granola bars. Vic was pulling on her spare work jacket. Have foregone her usual ponytail, her hair was pulled back in a braid. She zipped up her jacket and reached for the bars.
"For me?"
She looked to Walt and he knew she meant the coffee.
"Yeah."
She smiled at him as she stuffed the bars into her jacket pocket.
"Thank you."
He sensed that she was about to say something more when she merely sighed.
"I should go."
She didn't sound like she wanted to go at all. But, Walt knew that she was right. He stepped in and placed his hands on her shoulders, pulling her to him. Vic pushed up on her toes and met him halfway in a kiss. Her palms ran up the sleeves of his shirt and then back down.
Walt pulled back and his eyes found hers.
"You'll be home tonight?"
Vic could hear the question in his words.
"Yes, I will be home tonight. Gotta sleep at some point."
She tilted her head, smiled, and kissed him again. Before Walt could even respond, she had pulled from his grasp and was picking up her mug of coffee. She inhaled deeply, her eyes lingering on his.
"I'll see you later."
Walt nodded.
"Okay."
Turning, she started to leave when his voice stopped her.
"Vic."
Stopping, she glanced his way.
"Be safe."
Vic smiled in response and left.
xxx
"Do we have an autopsy report yet?"
Vic was removing her jacket, her eyes on Ruby. The older woman shook her head.
"Not yet."
"Damn."
Vic sighed and moved to sit in her chair. Leaning back, she stretched out her legs and took a long drink of her coffee. At this point she reckoned it might be the only thing that was keeping her moving.
She glanced around the office, noticing that no one else was around.
"Where is everyone?"
Ruby looked up from her computer.
"I assume by everyone, you mean Ferg and Zach. Ferg went out on a call and Zach is grabbing a bite to eat. Did you eat something while you were gone?"
Vic caught the emphasis on the word you and smiled in response.
"Yes, ma'am, I ate. Do you want to call my husband and verify that or will you take my word for it?"
She could see Ruby fighting a smile.
"I'll take your word for it."
Vic turned her chair towards her desk and rubbed her face briskly. Picking up the familiar post-its, she looked through them with little interest. Honestly, unless something were an emergency, her mind was full at the moment.
Pausing on one, she frowned, studying the name and not recognizing it.
"Hey, Ruby, who is Julia Corbitt and why did she call me?"
Ruby looked Vic's way.
"She actually called for the Sheriff, meaning Cady. But, since Cady is out…I passed that one on to you."
Vic tapped her index finger on her desk.
"Why does that name sound familiar?"
"She's handles press for the new mayor."
Ruby supplied the answer that she was looking for. Vic nodded slowly.
"Right. She didn't say what she wanted?"
Ruby shook her head.
"No."
Vic gave the small piece of paper one more look before putting the messages aside and shaking her head. Right now, she had more pressing issues. Namely, an unidentified, dead teenager. Vic started to shuffle through the case notes that were littering her desk when the door opened.
Glancing over her shoulder and expecting to see Ferg or Zach, she was more than a little surprised to see a woman walk in and speak to Ruby. Ruby, in turn, looked to Vic with a smile and gestured at the woman.
With an internal groan, Vic stood up and try to plaster a pleasant expression on her face as the woman approached her. She looked close in age to Walt, professionally dressed with neatly cut and styled dark hair. Her eyes were light brown and stood out in her fair complexion. She offered Vic a smile that didn't quite seem genuine.
"Deputy Moretti?"
Vic nodded.
"Yes. Is there something I can help you with?"
The woman offered her hand.
"Julia Corbitt."
Vic narrowed her eyes.
"Right. I…just got your message."
Julia released her hand with a curt nod.
"I'm sure. I heard that your department was out this morning handling a…an investigation into a body."
Vic eyed the woman.
"How did you hear about that?"
Julia shrugged.
"What can I say? I work for the mayor and we have our ways. So…have you made any progress on that case?"
Vic folded her arms over her chest.
"We just started investigating. And…we don't comment on ongoing investigations."
The smile stayed in place despite the lack of friendliness in Vic's tone.
"I understand that. But…Mayor Buckley has a vested interest in the crime rate of Durant and the county. You understand."
Vic tilted her head.
"The Sheriff's department doesn't answer to the Mayor's office. You understand that?"
Julia's smile faded a bit.
"My office was hopeful that we could build a copacetic relationship between our two departments. The Mayor isn't asking you to answer to him. Just work with him. Your receptionist told me over the phone that the Sheriff is out for a while."
"She is."
"Do you know how long?"
Vic shrugged, over the conversation.
"A few more weeks."
Julia nodded slowly.
"And…you're in charge until then?"
"Yeah, I am."
Julia ran her eyes over Vic before shifting gears.
"Cady Longmire's father…do you know him? The former Sheriff?"
"Yeah, I worked for him."
Julia smiled.
"So…you do know Walt. We go way back. So far back, he might not even remember me."
Vic clearly wasn't in the mood for idle chat.
"Was there…anything else you wanted?"
Julia's scowled a bit.
"No…the Mayor just wanted me to reach out. He would like to be kept abreast of this case, if possible."
Vic gave the woman a long look.
"Well…maybe if the Mayor gave us time to investigate…the answer would be different. But, right now, it's the same. We don't really have anything yet."
Julia nodded and smiled again.
"Okay, then. I will be in touch."
With a wave, she turned and left the office.
xxx
Vic picked up the large envelope off of her desk and sat down in her chair. Opening the flap, she slid out the report it held and lay the envelope aside. Propping her feet up on the corner of her desk, she started to shuffle through the report that Dr. Weston sent over. She started by looking through all the pages and skimming over the most important information. She glanced over the pictures, as well.
Weston estimated the boy to be between the ages of fifteen and eighteen. That was along the lines that she was thinking, albeit more towards the lower end. She pegged him for fifteen or sixteen at the most with a boyish face. He wasn't a particularly big kid at about the same height as herself with a slender build.
Vic's mind sifted through her own brothers and their various heights and builds around that same age. Michael was the smallest, and also the youngest. Two facts that drove him crazy when they were all younger and he was the object of teasing from his older brothers. For quite a while, it put a chip on his shoulder and made it seem like there was something for him to prove.
Vic shifted her eyes over the pages in front of her, shuffling back to the first page and propping the report on her legs. Slowly, she began to read the report in its entirety, her eyes running over the pages, taking in all of the information.
Vic paused and ran her fingers over a sentence.
Cause of death: suffocation
She had known from her own exam at the scene that there didn't seem to be any obvious life-threatening wounds. They did find bruising and scratches on his hands. Defensive wounds. DNA would be run on skin pulled from the boy's fingernails. But, that would only work if someone was already in the system.
And, it would take time.
She had asked Ferg to run a missing person search for a kid matching the description. So far, he was coming up empty. But, with a boy this age, there was no telling. He had been dead long enough to be reported missing if anyone cared. But, Vic knew that wasn't always the case. They had no idea of knowing what his home life was like. Or, even if he had a home currently. There was always the possibility of his family not caring where he was or his being an unreported runaway. Nothing really surprised her anymore.
Or, so she thought.
Still, someone somewhere had to know this boy. He was a person who existed. He would have some kind of life, even if it wasn't a good one. There would be people who would know who he was and what kind of person he was.
What kind of person he was.
Vic wondered why that popped into her mind.
It was easier not to think in those terms. To not personalize or identify with a victim. She knew that. She knew that well. But, here she was doing just that. Thinking about his life, who he was, even comparing him to her own brothers when they were younger.
"Vic."
Her eyes snapped up to see Ferg standing over her with a look of concern on his face.
"Yeah?"
"Where were you just now?"
Vic looked at the report in lap.
"Reading."
He gave her an odd look.
"Yeah, you've been looking at that report all afternoon. Did you hear what I said?"
Vic cleared her throat and shook her head, clearly missing something.
"Sorry. No."
He tapped one hand against his leg.
"I still haven't come up with anything. I've expanded my search. So far, I can't find anyone matching this age and description whose been reported missing around here lately."
Vic frowned and pushed out a sigh.
"Keep looking. Check…anything you can think of. Go back farther. If he's a runaway…the report might be old."
He didn't seem satisfied with her answer.
"You know…it's possible that no one has reported him missing."
Vic looked into his face and, for a moment, she missed the old Ferg. The naïve one who saw the good in people.
"Right. I know. But…"
She lay the report aside and leaned forward, her feet thumping to the floor.
"…this kid belongs to someone. Or, he did."
Ferg studied her.
"Are you okay?"
Vic stood up and stretched.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just think about it. Maybe…"
She was searching for something, but her mind felt sluggish.
"…maybe, we release a description and ask the public for tips."
Ferg nodded a little.
"Not a bad idea. But…you know we'll get some cranks. Always do."
"I know. But…someone has to know something. We just need one…clue."
Ferg glanced at his watch.
"Want me to get on that in the morning?"
Vic's brow went up.
"In the morning? It's…"
She looked at the cell phone that sat on the corner of her desk and checked the time.
"…shit…when did it get so late?"
It was dinnertime, the light outside was fading quickly. Ferg took a step closer to Vic.
"I told you, Vic. You've been reading that report for a while."
Vic shook her head, trying to clear her mind.
"Guess, I lost track of time. Yeah, in the morning. Go on home."
He lingered, unsure.
"You're going home, too. Right?"
Vic nodded and glanced around the office.
"Yeah."
Ferg didn't look convinced.
"Vic, you were up all night."
She came back to the moment and could see the worry in his earnest blue eyes.
"I know. I'm…I'm going home."
Vic reached up and rubbed her eyes, suddenly feeling unbelievably tired. Ferg seemed to accept that and started to straighten up his desk. Vic slid the report back into the envelope and laid it on the center of her desk, setting her hockey puck on top of it with a sense of finality.
She was going home.