Chapter 4

"There's no sign of him, Detective. He's not answering any radio communications. There's been no report of an incident. I just don't know what to say." Sergeant Steve Powell's brow furrowed. "I don't lose people, not on my watch. Not in thirty years, and I'm not about to start now."

Eames set the phone down. "Jeremy's at home. He hasn't seen his dad, and Ross didn't call or leave a message. I'm afraid I freaked him out a little. He's going to have his mom call when she gets home. Where could he be?"

"Steve, play the tape of his last call for me again." The others waited as Goren listened intently. The normal chaos of central dispatch swirled around them, but Goren seemed oblivious. After two more tries, he shook his head. "Ross's last communication sounds perfectly normal. What was his patrol grid?"

Powell spread the detailed map of Manhattan's streets in front of them. He was old-fashioned and preferred the heavy coated paper to a computer screen. "Here was his last call, a Mrs. Etta Longmont. His last call… " He paused to look at the clock. "that was almost two hours ago. He could have covered a lot of ground in two hours."

Goren's voice was sharp. "Put out an APB on the Camry. Get every available unit down in that area, on foot if possible."

"Detective, I can't," Powell protested. "It's nuts around here. There is no such thing as an available unit. Besides, I don't have the authority."

Goren clenched his fists in frustration. "Who can we call?"

"Search me. We're way out of chain of command. Is it Moran maybe or Precinct Captain he might have disappeared from or the Deputy Chief, or the Commissioner? "

"Do it, but put out the APB first," Goren said tersely. "I'll take responsibility. Call them all, get them down here. Eames and I will go to the Longmont address and work from there."

"I'll pull out all the stops, Goren. It may take us awhile to get things moving. Forget about normal patrol and just figure out what happened. I'll cover your area somehow." He gripped Goren on the shoulder. "Get out there, something's not right here."

"You got it."

The flashing lights froze Joseph's hands on the wheel. He willed himself not to yield to panic or race away from the area. The pickup truck flashed by on the cross-street, but seemed to take no notice him.

The car in front of him made a right turn, heading in the same direction as the truck. Did the police know? He was in the police officer's car. Were they searching for him, even now? Perhaps he should go back, get further instructions?

No, he couldn't go back. Armand would not be happy if he returned before he finished his assignment. He was more afraid of him than the police. There was no pleasing the man.

After a deep breath, he made his own left turn, heading away from the area. He would do as he was told, and do it perfectly. He could avoid the freeway and major roads. It really wasn't that far. Wiser heads than his were planning, watching. He was a true believer, after all, not afraid to sacrifice everything for paradise. He would show them how completely he could be trusted.

"Mrs. Longmont, are you sure you can't think of anything else? Did he give you any indication of where he was going?"

Mrs. Longmont took a small sip of tea from a teacup as fragile as she. "Please, it's Etty. He was awfully upset, as I said. Very disappointed that no one would be able to come to collect fingerprints and such. Honestly, I think he was ready to go hunt someone down all by himself. I gave him all the names and addresses I knew of the others whose homes have been broken into recently." She set her cup down. "At one time, I could tell you about the family in every house. This was such a lovely neighborhood. Now people come and go. They're just people, not families who care about the community. They're strangers to me." She sighed. "Times change."

Eames looked at the list she'd given her, written in a delicate, precise hand. No doubt, Ross had a duplicate in his pocket. She couldn't think of anything else to ask. Goren was prowling around the rest of the house, hoping to find a clue, anything to give them a next step. Eames was afraid they were going to come up empty. Apparently, she didn't hide her worry very well. Either that, or Etty Longmont used a lifetime of wisdom to read her. "Young lady, I'm sure your captain is all right. He was a very impressive man, you know."

"Yes, ma'am. He is that," Eames said, warmed by her sincerity. Goren looked around doorway, giving her the high sign. He must have finished his search and it was time to leave. "Are you sure I can't get someone to stay with you?"

Mrs. Longmont set her cup down with authority. "I've been in this house over fifty years. I'm not letting some young fools chase me out." She shook her finger for emphasis. "They're just cowards, you know. If someone is home, they don't dare come in." She picked up her cane. "Besides, I'll whack them."

Eames offered her arm to help the woman stand. She couldn't help but smile. "Well, maybe 911 would be better than whacking with that." She handed her a card. "That's my cell number. You promise me if you see anything suspicious, you call me right away. I don't care what time it is. Now give me your word."

"Oh, all right. Such a fuss, young woman." She walked them to the door. "Did you find anything, Detective?" she asked Goren.

"Not much, but we have a start. Thank you for your help, ma'am. We'll be in touch, and check on you in the next few days, but you follow my partner's advice." They started down the porch steps. "You turn on your porch lights and leave them on, too."

"Goodnight, detectives," she called after them. The lights came on behind them. The two rushed down the walk, trying to miss the worst of the steady rain. Goren was snickering as he climbed into the car.

"What?" Eames asked, shuddering as water trickled down her neck. It hardly seemed a humorous moment.

"Feisty old gal," Goren said. "She was muttering as we left, 'Porch lights, smorch lights. I'll just whack 'em.' She'll probably do more good than we will."

"Do we have anything?" Eames asked.

"Nothing that will help. I'll lay odds Ross went looking for them, though."

"So we check out the addresses."

Goren shook his head. "I don't think so. Ross is such a by the book cop, he would have followed procedure. If he went somewhere specific, he would have called it in."

Eames nodded in agreement. "Okay, so he headed back to 1PP, taking the scenic route, just nosing around. He could be anywhere, but something serious must have happened to keep him from calling in and notifying dispatch. Now what?"

"We do what he did. Cruise the streets. Hope we spot something. If it comes to it, we work a grid on foot."

Another five minutes and the radio crackled to life. A silent alarm at a convenience store. "Send someone else," Goren snapped in response.

The disembodied voice from the radio crackled with tension. "There is no one else! Repeat, you are the only available unit! We have a multiple car pileup on the interstate."

"On our way," growled Goren. "Shit. If Ross's really in trouble, we're screwed."

Eames hit the gas.