Disturbance Read Online Free Page B

that.
    So far, he had been able to control his impulses in that direction.
    Self-mastery meant you didn’t have to become what certain people predicted you would become. Self-mastery meant you, yourself—and not your past—defined you. Self-mastery was the key to his happiness.
    It was time to leave the house and earn his wages. He did not like to look in mirrors, but neatness was important to him, so he compromised by studying the uniform carefully and merely glancing at his own face in the reflection.
    He savored the quiet of the house for another moment, then it was time to go out into the noisy world.
    No sooner was he out the door than his personal cell phone rang. Caller ID blocked.
    He took the call but didn’t speak.
    “I love that you’re so cautious,” a man’s voice said.
    When he still didn’t speak, the man laughed.
    “Did you see the television interview with his doctor?”
    “No,” Donovan said and considered hanging up. He knew he wouldn’t. He was angry with himself for his curiosity. It made him weak. It kept him listening.
    “I didn’t think so. The doctor spoke the code phrase—innocently, of course. He mentioned the marathon.”
    “Coincidence.” He would hang up. He would hang up now …
    “You don’t believe that any more than I do. It’s time to begin.”
    Donovan stayed silent. He felt a little queasy. He wasn’t ready for this, even though the news about Nicholas Parrish being up and walking had left him expecting it.
    “Don’t let it upset you—we are what we are.”
    He winced, thinking,
I’m not what you are
, but said, “I’m not upset.”
    “Good. I’m going to contact the other one.”
    “That might not be wise. What if it isn’t really starting?”
    “Cold feet?”
    It would not do to let the caller play these games.
    “Call me again when you really have something to say,” Donovan said quietly and hung up on him.

SIX
    I first heard about Marilyn Foster as a missing person case.
    Marilyn Foster’s husband managed the swing shift at a manufacturing plant forty miles from Las Piernas. Dwayne Foster routinely arrived at home well after midnight, ate the light meal his wife left waiting for him, took a shower downstairs, and wound down with a beer or two while he watched TV with a headset on before going up to bed.
    He got caught up in an old movie in the early hours of Wednesday, so it was about three in the morning when he went upstairs. To his surprise, the bed was empty. He called his wife’s name, wandered through the house looking for her, feeling a mixture of annoyance and fear. He went into the garage. Her car was missing.
    He tried calling her cell phone. He heard it ringing and discovered her purse still in the kitchen.
    He called the police.
    “It’s not a crime to be missing,” I once heard an old cop say.
    “It’s not a crime to be dead, either,” I replied, “but you still investigate when someone calls to report a body.”
    What he had said, though, is true—as far as it goes—and he was only expressing the frustration that many in law enforcement feel when it comes to missing persons cases. All too often they use their time, energy, and resources trying find a missing adult, only to discover they’re not looking into a crime. As it turns out, many adults who go missing just want to escape whatever they’ve gotten themselves into—debts, bad relationships, boredom, overbearing families, abuse, you name it. The police run into that so often, it leads to a kind of cynicism that in turn leads to a lack of investigative effort.
    In recent years, Las Piernas has taken missing persons cases more seriously. The
Express
has always given those cases special attention, which has brought some pressure to bear on law enforcement. Nick Parrish, I suppose, brought a different kind of pressure to solve missing persons cases.
    So the Las Piernas Police Department called a news conference late Wednesday morning. Mark Baker was on the road, sent up