Page 71 of The Advocate’s Ultimatum

“About nine or ten months,” he said.

“Do you know where they went?”

The man rubbed his hands together, thinking. “I had an address at one point,” he said. “Yvonne gave it to me in case anything came for them, mail or whatever.”

That seemed too good to be true. “Do you still have it?”

Kevin stood and went inside.

JP waited on the porch.

A minute later, Kevin came back with a small stack of old papers. He flipped through them and pulled one free.

“Here.” He held out a faded-yellow sticky note.

JP took it and noted an address in Poway. “When was the last time you heard from Yvonne?” JP asked.

The man shook his head. “Been a long time. Seven, maybe eight years.”

JP looked up. “Do you know if she keeps in touch with anyone around here?”

“Not that I know of. After what happened, people left her alone. We didn’t know what to say.”

“Did Yvonne ever talk about that day?”

The man’s jaw tightened. “Not with me. I didn’t want to hear about it either.”

JP folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket. “I appreciate this,” he said.

“Do me a favor,” Kevin said. “If you find her alive, let me know.”

“I can do that.”

JP stepped off the porch and walked back toward the street. Yvonne had stayed nine months after Hannah disappeared. Waiting... and hoping.

~~~

Back at his own home, JP went straight to his desk and opened his laptop. He entered the address of the creepy man on the corner and ran a reverse search. The result came back quickly. The owner was Charles Field.

JP read through the initial data: seventy-nine-year-old male, owner-occupied for fifteen years.

A deeper search revealed his military history, a retired Army sergeant major.

That fit what he’d already seen. The house, the yard, the way everything was kept lined up, matched with someone who had spent a lifetime in structure and routine. A little more research told him Field was divorced with two adult daughters, both of whom lived out of state.

JP closed the laptop and walked to the window. The light outside was starting to shift. It was late afternoon, the same time frame as the day Hannah disappeared. School would be letting out again soon.

JP grabbed his hat and headed for the door. He wanted to see what Field’s house looked like when it mattered most—when the kids were walking home.

Chapter 26

Friday late afternoon

JP parked a half block down from the corner and waited, watching the street come alive. Kids walked by in groups, backpacks slung low, voices carrying. Some walked fast, some didn’t. A few cut across the street without looking. Most followed the same worn path they probably took every day without thinking about it.

JP watched the corner house. The chair was occupied this time.

Charles Field sat angled toward the street, just like JP had expected. His back was straight, and his hands rested on his knees. He was watching the street with the kind of focus that came from habit.