seed, so I knew that look well.
“If you’d like,” I added, trying to soften the blow, “I could poke around a bit on the computer and see if I can turn up any traces of Enrique Morales. Finding the missing husband seems like a logical step, since none of this started happening until he disappeared.”
“You could do that?” Natalie asked, her eyes hopeful.
“I could try. A lot of the databases I subscribe to for my job can also be used for missing persons searches. Back when I worked for Eli, I used to run missing persons cases all the time.”
“How hard is it to find someone?” Dean asked.
“You never know until you try,” I replied. “I’ve turned up people in ten minutes, and I’ve had one or two that I never found. At the very least, I think this would probably be worth looking into, because it relates to my grant investigation in a peripheral sort of way.”
“Whatever you can do, Callie,” Natalie said, “we would appreciate it.”
Dean nodded in agreement.
In light of that, as we finished eating I had them tell me everything they knew about Enrique—his life history, his hobbies, his education level, whatever they could think of. Apparently, the man came to Greenbriar for harvest every year and had been doing so for as long as they could remember. He never took their employment testing, because he dropped out of school somewhere in the elementary grades and didn’t think he was suited for anything but farm labor. Despite his limited education, however, Enrique was a good man, a devoted father, and always calm and even-tempered.
“According to Luisa,” Natalie said, “His biggest fault is his indecisiveness. Where she tends to act first and think later, she says he’s often frozen in indecision, seeing every side of every issue until it renders him almost motionless.”
As for hobbies or side interests, Enrique had none that Dean or Natalie knew of. Migrants rarely did, they said, considering their income level and lack of free time. Enrique was an especially hard worker, but he lived hand-to-mouth, as was the only way most of them could.
Once the Webbers finished telling me all they could recall, Dean admitted that the description didn’t really fit a man who would abandon his family. Perhaps, he said, Luisa had been right, and Enrique hadn’t left of his own free will after all.
As Dean paid for lunch, I stood by the door, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I had come to Greenbriar feeling certain I would easily move through the grant approval process. But now the complicating factors were becoming too big. From Luisa’s troubles and Enrique’s disappearance to the murder of an unidentified man, it was looking more and more like this million-dollar grant was indefinitely on hold. I didn’t share this with the Webbers, and I wished it wasn’t true, but the investigator in me was waking up, certain that I had to act and figure things out before my beloved in-laws were inevitably drawn deeper into this mess.
Nine
We retrieved my car from the Webbers’ house and then returned to the office, where I set up my laptop in the conference room and loaded in their password for wireless internet. Before going any further, I knew I had to step back and get a good perspective on things. I decided it might help to call Eli.
Eli Gold was one of my dearest and oldest friends, the man who taught me everything I knew about investigating. He was retired now and living in Florida, but we had worked together in Virginia for years, and I still found myself consulting with him from time to time when I needed to reason things out on a difficult case.
I dialed his number and felt a surge of relief when he answered the phone. We usually chatted for a while before we got down to business, but this time he was on his way out the door.
“I can give you five minutes, doll,” he said with his characteristic bluntness. “Stella’s meeting me at the yogurt stand on Third and Peters, and
“If you’d like,” I added, trying to soften the blow, “I could poke around a bit on the computer and see if I can turn up any traces of Enrique Morales. Finding the missing husband seems like a logical step, since none of this started happening until he disappeared.”
“You could do that?” Natalie asked, her eyes hopeful.
“I could try. A lot of the databases I subscribe to for my job can also be used for missing persons searches. Back when I worked for Eli, I used to run missing persons cases all the time.”
“How hard is it to find someone?” Dean asked.
“You never know until you try,” I replied. “I’ve turned up people in ten minutes, and I’ve had one or two that I never found. At the very least, I think this would probably be worth looking into, because it relates to my grant investigation in a peripheral sort of way.”
“Whatever you can do, Callie,” Natalie said, “we would appreciate it.”
Dean nodded in agreement.
In light of that, as we finished eating I had them tell me everything they knew about Enrique—his life history, his hobbies, his education level, whatever they could think of. Apparently, the man came to Greenbriar for harvest every year and had been doing so for as long as they could remember. He never took their employment testing, because he dropped out of school somewhere in the elementary grades and didn’t think he was suited for anything but farm labor. Despite his limited education, however, Enrique was a good man, a devoted father, and always calm and even-tempered.
“According to Luisa,” Natalie said, “His biggest fault is his indecisiveness. Where she tends to act first and think later, she says he’s often frozen in indecision, seeing every side of every issue until it renders him almost motionless.”
As for hobbies or side interests, Enrique had none that Dean or Natalie knew of. Migrants rarely did, they said, considering their income level and lack of free time. Enrique was an especially hard worker, but he lived hand-to-mouth, as was the only way most of them could.
Once the Webbers finished telling me all they could recall, Dean admitted that the description didn’t really fit a man who would abandon his family. Perhaps, he said, Luisa had been right, and Enrique hadn’t left of his own free will after all.
As Dean paid for lunch, I stood by the door, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I had come to Greenbriar feeling certain I would easily move through the grant approval process. But now the complicating factors were becoming too big. From Luisa’s troubles and Enrique’s disappearance to the murder of an unidentified man, it was looking more and more like this million-dollar grant was indefinitely on hold. I didn’t share this with the Webbers, and I wished it wasn’t true, but the investigator in me was waking up, certain that I had to act and figure things out before my beloved in-laws were inevitably drawn deeper into this mess.
Nine
We retrieved my car from the Webbers’ house and then returned to the office, where I set up my laptop in the conference room and loaded in their password for wireless internet. Before going any further, I knew I had to step back and get a good perspective on things. I decided it might help to call Eli.
Eli Gold was one of my dearest and oldest friends, the man who taught me everything I knew about investigating. He was retired now and living in Florida, but we had worked together in Virginia for years, and I still found myself consulting with him from time to time when I needed to reason things out on a difficult case.
I dialed his number and felt a surge of relief when he answered the phone. We usually chatted for a while before we got down to business, but this time he was on his way out the door.
“I can give you five minutes, doll,” he said with his characteristic bluntness. “Stella’s meeting me at the yogurt stand on Third and Peters, and
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