Gold Earrings Found at a Flea Market Solved a Ten Year Mystery

“No, I haven’t been looking out,” Denise said, her warm tone shifting slightly. “But Marlene, I did see Rick’s construction truck parked over at the county credit union around three. I thought he was supposed to be working the north site today.”

My hand tightened on the receiver, my left ring finger rubbing against the plastic casing. “The credit union is five miles past his job.”

“Maybe he had to draw some cash for materials,” Denise said, though her voice lacked its usual certainty. “Is Hannah still at her lesson?”

“She was supposed to be home forty minutes ago,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper.

I hung up the phone without saying goodbye. The drive to Mrs. Gable’s house took less than four minutes, but the old woman’s porch was dark, and her front door remained closed when I knocked. When Mrs. Gable finally answered, wearing her housecoat, she looked at me with confusion and told me Hannah had left her living room at precisely five o’clock.

By eight, our quiet residential street was lined with vehicles, their blue and red lights sweeping across the white siding of our house. Neighbors stood on their lawns in small, silent clusters, their faces illuminated by the passing beams.

Rick paced the damp asphalt near the mailbox, his boots making a dry, scraping sound on the gravel. He kept his hands deep in his pockets, occasionally pulling them out to wipe his palms on his trousers before checking his heavy wristwatch.

“She probably just took the path by the creek,” Rick said, his booming voice cracking as he spoke to the deputy standing by the patrol car. “She’s eleven, she gets distracted by the frogs.”

“We’ve already sent two men down the creek bed, Mr. Rhodes,” the deputy said, writing on a small notepad. “They didn’t find any footprints in the mud.”

I stood on the bottom step of our porch, holding Hannah’s spare sweater against my chest. Rick did not look at me, nor did he offer to hold my hand, his eyes scanning the dark wood line at the edge of our property with a frantic, darting motion.