Daniel raised his hand in return.
Then his radio crackled.
"Unit 27, we have a request regarding a missing-person case. Possible connection to a vehicle registered under Arthur Bennett."
Daniel frowned.
"Repeat that."
The dispatcher read the information again.
A woman named Grace Miller had called the station.
She claimed Arthur Bennett had left his care facility without permission.
But that wasn't the strange part.
According to Grace, Arthur had been carrying a letter addressed to Officer Daniel Brooks.
Daniel looked toward the ambulance.
"Did she say why?"
The dispatcher paused.
"She said Mr. Bennett has been trying to find you for three years."
Daniel's stomach tightened.
Three years?
He had never met Arthur Bennett before that afternoon.
Or at least, he didn't think he had.
The ambulance took Arthur to a small medical center outside town.
Daniel followed in his patrol car.
He told himself it was simply part of his responsibility. An elderly driver with a possible heart condition needed assistance, and there was a question about his missing-person report.
But something about the photograph had unsettled him.
He had seen that little girl somewhere before.
The same curly brown hair.
The same smile.
The same small silver necklace.
Daniel parked outside the medical center and walked into the reception area.
A nurse approached him.
"Officer Brooks?"
"Yes."
"Mr. Bennett is resting. His blood pressure was elevated, but he's stable."
"Can I speak with him?"
"Briefly."
Arthur was lying in a hospital bed with an oxygen tube beneath his nose.
When Daniel entered, the old man looked surprised.
"You came."
"I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Arthur smiled faintly.
"You're a good young man."
Daniel pulled a chair beside the bed.
"Someone from a care facility contacted the station. They said you left without permission."
Arthur's expression changed.
"I wasn't running away."
"Then where were you going?"
"To see my daughter."
"Why didn't you tell the people at the facility?"
Arthur looked at the ceiling.
"They would have stopped me."
Daniel studied him.
"How long have you been living there?"
"Eight months."
"And before that?"
"Alone."
Daniel nodded.
Then he remembered the dispatcher mentioning a letter.
"Did you leave a letter for me?"
Arthur closed his eyes.
"Yes."
"Why?"
The old man turned toward the bedside table.
"Open the drawer."
Daniel found a small envelope.
His name was written across the front in shaky handwriting.
TO OFFICER DANIEL BROOKS.
Daniel stared at it.
"How do you know my name?"
Arthur hesitated.
"Because I have been looking for you."
"Why?"
"Because of what happened eleven years ago."
Daniel opened the envelope.
Inside was a folded sheet of paper and a photograph.
The photograph showed a younger Daniel standing beside an older police officer.
Daniel recognized the man immediately.
Thomas Reed.
His former mentor.
The officer who had trained him during his first year in the department.
Daniel read the letter.
Dear Officer Brooks,
You probably don't remember me. But I remember you.
Eleven years ago, after the accident that killed my wife, you were the young officer who arrived at the hospital. You spoke to my daughter when nobody else could reach her.
You told her that she should never make a decision about the rest of her life while she was standing in the middle of her worst day.
She remembered those words for years.
I remembered them too.
Daniel stopped reading.
He looked up.
"I was there?"
Arthur nodded.
"You were a trainee. Thomas Reed was your supervising officer."
Daniel stared at the photograph.
He remembered the night vaguely. A rainy road. A crushed vehicle. An elderly woman covered with a blanket.
He remembered a teenage girl sitting alone in a hospital corridor, crying silently.
He remembered offering her a cup of water.
But he hadn't known her name.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"I didn't know how to find you. Then Thomas gave me your name a few years ago."
Daniel frowned.
"Thomas knew about this?"
Arthur nodded.
"He visited me twice. He said you had become a good officer."
Daniel looked at the photograph again.
"Where is Thomas now?"
Arthur's expression became serious.
"He died last winter."
Daniel lowered his eyes.
Thomas had been more than a mentor. He had been the closest thing to a father Daniel had known after his own father passed away.
Arthur reached for his hand.
"Before he died, he told me something."
"What?"
"He said the accident was not as simple as everyone believed."
Daniel looked up.
"What do you mean?"
Arthur slowly turned his head toward the window.
"My wife was wearing her seat belt. I was wearing mine. The car should not have rolled the way it did."
"Are you saying the accident was caused by something else?"
Arthur nodded.
"Thomas believed someone had tampered with my car."
Daniel sat perfectly still.
"Who?"
Arthur's eyes filled with tears.
"My daughter."
Daniel stared at him.
"What?"
Arthur shook his head.
"Not because she wanted her mother dead. Because someone wanted her to believe I was responsible."
He reached toward the drawer.
"There is something else you need to see."
Inside was a small silver necklace.
Daniel recognized it.
It was identical to the one worn by the little girl in the photograph.
Arthur placed it in his palm.
"This belonged to Emily's mother. She gave it to our daughter on her seventeenth birthday."
Daniel turned it over.
There was a tiny engraving on the back.
M.B. β ALWAYS HOME.
Daniel looked at Arthur.
"What does M.B. stand for?"
Arthur whispered:
"Margaret Bennett."
Then the old man added something that made Daniel's blood run cold.
"Thomas found a second report about the accident. One that disappeared from the police records."
The following morning, Daniel went to the station early.
He had barely slept.