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and he couldn’t even get hold of her at work. He’d come this far, and he wasn’t giving up now. He didn’t want to make another mistake. Not with Kira.
    He rang the doorbell again, and not expecting a different response, looked for an open curtain so he could peek inside. He froze when he saw a window gaping wide. He shone his flashlight around the yard, looking for other signs of an intruder, then back into the house.
    “Kira?” He shone the light along the wall, able to make a guess as to the layout of the unit. It looked like she had a living room and kitchen on the main floor, bedrooms upstairs. He took a step, and his foot caught on something. Dallas looked down and saw the screen to the window. Immediately, he pulled out his cell phone and called the local police department to send an officer.
    While he waited, he looked around the yard for anything else that was out of place. When an officer arrived, he was so young he looked like he should be reading Shakespeare in high school English class. “Officer Richards.” He extended his hand, “You must be Officer Brooks?”
    Dallas nodded, then explained the situation in full.
    “Matthews? We have an officer on the force by that name. What’s she look like?”
    Dallas didn’t have to think about that, “African American, light brown skin, brown hair, brown eyes, slim…” While Dallas described her, the officer took notes.
    The kid shook his newly buzzed head. “Must not be related. So the place looks like it’s been broken into….” He jotted more notes, then looked up again. “When did you talk to her last?”
    “It’s been almost a week, and apparently her office hasn’t seen her for several days, either.”
    “Have you talked to any of the neighbors, asked if they’ve seen her?”
    “Not yet,” Dallas said, wishing he could speed things along. He began to pace, anxious to make sure he hadn’t left another innocent victim in the path of destruction. While the obviously new cop asked the standard questions about a missing person, going back and forth on the cell phone with his supervisor, Dallas knocked on doors. He was perplexed that no one had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary, and no one had set eyes on her in several days.
    When he returned, the kid was on with dispatch. “Be on the lookout for Kira Matthews, a social worker with Poudre County, about thirty years old, light brown skin, brown hair and brown eyes, five foot seven. Last seen in Antelope Springs, Colorado, on Friday evening. Need to do a welfare check at her home.”
    “Hold on, Officer Richards,” the dispatcher said.
    Over the radio they heard another officer respond that he would be right there. Within minutes, a detective showed up in plain clothes, wearing his badge on his belt and a phone to his ear. With him was a corporal in a regular patrol uniform.
    Dallas could hear the phone ringing inside the unit again. “Come on, Kira, answer,” the detective muttered. He looked at Dallas and nodded. “I’m Nick Matthews and this is Garrett.”
    “Dallas Brooks, from Antelope Springs Police Department.”
    “You’re the one looking for Kira?” the corporal asked as he opened the storm door and pulled a key from his pocket.
    “Yeah, I need her to complete some paperwork.”
    “Um, did either of you try to bust in?” The corporal turned toward them. “Get your camera, Nick. The door wasn’t like this last time I saw Kira.”
    “We didn’t touch a thing, except the doorbell,” Dallas answered. “I checked around the side, and it looks like someone entered through the window. Probably ought to get pictures of that, too.” He watched the two men interact, deciding they were brothers. “So you know Kira?”
    “She’s our sister.” Garrett looked at Dallas.
    Officer Richards joined the conversation. “When I heard her name, I suspected she could be related to you, but Dallas said she’s African American.”
    “Yep, we adopted her when she was