Daniel looked at him.
"No. I'm asking why two officers are standing here arguing with a frightened child instead of checking whether his mother is alive."
Riley's jaw tightened.
"Watch your tone."
Daniel placed his briefcase on the reception counter.
"Then give me yours. Tell me what you've done."
The lobby became quiet.
A young desk clerk looked up from her computer.
Noah stood beside Daniel, clutching the back of his jacket.
For the first time since entering the station, he seemed to believe someone might actually help him.
But Riley was not impressed.
He took a step toward Daniel.
"Who exactly do you think you are?"
Daniel reached inside his jacket.
"Someone who is giving you one last opportunity to do the right thing."
THE MISSING PERSONS WALL
Behind Riley was a large glass partition covered with missing-person notices.
Photographs of children, elderly residents, and adults stared out from the wall.
Some notices were recent.
Others had yellowed around the edges.
One photograph showed a teenage girl with long black hair.
Another showed a middle-aged man who had disappeared after leaving work.
Several notices had handwritten phone numbers beneath them.
Daniel glanced at the wall.
Then his eyes stopped.
A photograph had been placed near the bottom.
It showed a woman in her late thirties with shoulder-length brown hair and tired but kind eyes.
The name beneath it read:
SARAH BENNETT.
MISSING SINCE: OCTOBER 14
Daniel's expression changed.
He stepped closer.
The photograph had been printed three weeks earlier.
Someone had written a note across the bottom:
POSSIBLE VOLUNTARY DISAPPEARANCE.
Daniel stared at the words.
Then he looked at Noah.
"Is this your mother?"
Noah nodded.
"Yes."
Daniel's voice lowered.
"How long has she been missing?"
"Three weeks."
Riley immediately stepped between them.
"That's enough."
Daniel turned.
"Three weeks?"
Noah nodded.
"She came home last night. But she said someone was following her."
Daniel looked at the missing-person notice again.
"Why is her case marked voluntary disappearance?"
Riley answered.
"That's confidential."
"She's standing in front of you through her son, asking for help."
"She's not standing anywhere. She's missing."
Noah shook his head.
"She's not missing! She's at the warehouse!"
Riley pointed at him.
"Stop shouting."
Daniel looked toward the front desk.
"Who is the investigator assigned to this case?"
Miller hesitated.
"Detective Harris."
"Is he here?"
"No."
"Then call him."
Riley stepped closer.
"Sir, I don't think you understand how this department operates."
Daniel looked at him.
"I understand perfectly."
He took a small identification card from his wallet and placed it on the counter.
Riley glanced at it.
Then looked again.
His expression shifted.
But before he could speak, Daniel picked it up.
"Not yet."
Riley frowned.
"What?"
Daniel looked toward Noah.
"First, we're going to find his mother."
He turned back to the officer.
"And you're going to tell me why her missing-person report was closed."
Riley's voice became cold.
"You're not in charge here."
Daniel slowly nodded.
"That's what I was afraid you'd say."
THE CALL THAT NEVER REACHED DISPATCH
Noah sat on a chair near the reception desk.
A female clerk brought him a paper cup of water.
He held it with both hands.
His fingers trembled so badly that the water rippled.
Daniel stood several feet away, speaking quietly with the clerk.
"What time did the boy arrive?"
"About four minutes ago."
"Did anyone call dispatch?"
She glanced toward Riley.
"I don't know."
"Can you check?"
The clerk hesitated.
"Officer Riley told me not to enter anything."
Daniel looked at her.
"Why?"
She lowered her voice.
"Because the case is closed."
Daniel stared.
"Who closed it?"
"Detective Harris."
"On what grounds?"
She shook her head.
"I wasn't involved."
Daniel studied her face.
She was young, perhaps twenty-four, with a small nameplate reading EMILY PARKER.
"Emily, I need you to understand something. If that woman is inside a locked building and nobody responds, she could die."
Emily glanced toward Noah.
"I know."
"Then help me."
Emily looked down at her keyboard.
After a moment, she opened a records window.
She searched Sarah Bennett's name.
The result appeared immediately.
CASE STATUS: CLOSED.
REASON: VOLUNTARY DEPARTURE.
INVESTIGATING OFFICER: DETECTIVE J. HARRIS.
Daniel leaned closer.
"Open the incident notes."
Emily clicked.
A short entry appeared.
Subject contacted by telephone. Confirmed she was safe and did not wish to be located.
Daniel frowned.
"Who made that call?"
Emily checked the details.
"Unknown."
"Unknown?"
"The report doesn't list a caller identification."
"Is there a recording?"
Emily opened another tab.
"No recording attached."
Daniel looked at her.
"Was the call verified?"
She hesitated.
"I don't know."
"Then why was the case closed?"
Emily glanced toward Riley again.
He was watching them.
Daniel lowered his voice.
"Emily, has anyone asked you to alter this record?"
She did not answer.
That was answer enough.
Daniel straightened.
"Print the case history."
Emily looked terrified.
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because I was told not to."
Daniel looked at her for a moment.
Then he said quietly:
"Sometimes doing the right thing means deciding who you're more afraid of disappointing."
Emily's eyes moved toward Noah.
She clicked print.
The machine started.
Riley immediately approached.
"What are you doing?"
Emily froze.
Daniel picked up the printed pages.
"Reviewing the case."
"Those records are restricted."
"Then you should have made sure they were accurate."
Riley reached for the papers.
Daniel moved them away.
"Don't."
Riley's face reddened.
"Give me those documents."
"Not until I know why a missing mother has been classified as a voluntary disappearance without a verified statement."
Riley leaned closer.
"You're making a serious mistake."
Daniel met his eyes.
"No. Someone made that mistake three weeks ago."
A MOTHER'S LAST MESSAGE
Noah suddenly stood.
"Mr. Morgan?"
Daniel turned.
"Yes, buddy?"
Noah reached into his pocket and removed a small folded piece of paper.
"My mom told me to give you this."
Daniel took it.
"When?"
"Before they locked her in."
Daniel unfolded the paper.
There were only a few words written in hurried handwriting.