Read Online Ornaments of Death by Jane K. Cleland - Free Book Online Page B

well enough to trust your judgment, I know of no facts that suggest a crime has been committed. I’m sorry, Josie. My hands are tied.”
    â€œI thought you had to accept a missing persons report and act on it after a certain number of days.”
    â€œThe law changed. Unless the person who’s gone missing has a physical or mental disability that puts him or her at risk, there’s nothing I can do. The actual wording of the statute is that the person has to have a ‘proven physical or mental disability or is senile,’ which Ian doesn’t and isn’t. If something about his disappearance indicated that he was in danger, if people reported that they saw him being tossed into the back of a van, for instance, I could act. But no one has reported a kidnapping. The only other way I could accept your report was if I have reason to believe that his disappearance wasn’t voluntary, and I’m afraid your gut instinct isn’t sufficient.”
    â€œCan you give me some examples of what it would take to convince you?”
    â€œIf we found Ian’s burned-out car under a bridge or even deserted behind a warehouse. If the maid reported that his hotel room had been ransacked. I need actual evidence that indicates he’s in trouble.” He flipped his palms up. “What if he decided on a whim to take a side trip to Montreal or New York City? He wouldn’t appreciate your making a hoot-and-holler about his vacation.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Josie.”
    â€œThank you for explaining the situation to me,” I said, and stomped out.
    *   *   *
    Back at my office, I considered my next-step options. I was going to try to avoid making Ian’s apparent disappearance public, but I had to do something. I decided to start with his daughter. I was convinced that the only reason Ian would have left Rocky Point ahead of schedule voluntarily was to connect with Becca. I didn’t for a minute believe that was what had happened, but it was a possibility that needed to be eliminated.
    I consulted the genealogical chart Ian had e-mailed. Becca’s legal name was Rebecca Anne Bennington.
    I searched online for her phone number, with no luck. I called directory assistance; they had no record of her. I Googled her name and found a score of scholarly references, articles she’d authored or co-authored, papers she’d presented at conferences, and grants she’d received. However, I could find no indication that she lived in Boston.
    Ian had mentioned that Becca was working on a marine biology research project involving clams. For all I knew, she could have been retained by a commercial supplier to help it improve its clam-shipping methods, but if she was a visiting scholar, no matter what she was working on or who was funding it, she was probably affiliated with a college or university. Since Reynard University had one of the best marine biology programs in the world, I decided to start there.
    I brought up the university’s Web site and went to the Marine Biology Department faculty page. Becca wasn’t listed.
    I looked up the main number for the department and got a woman’s voice mail. I didn’t leave a message. I called the registrar’s office. Whoever answered the phone, a student worker, I guessed, interrupted me before I finished posing my question.
    â€œSorry,” she said. “We never release student information.”
    â€œThis isn’t a student. This is a visiting scholar.”
    â€œSorry. I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
    Since most organizations follow a set policy in structuring e-mail addresses, I suspected that if I could discover anyone’s e-mail address, I could follow the pattern to reach Becca, assuming she had some kind of affiliation with the university. I asked the woman to transfer me to IT.
    â€œWe never give out e-mail addresses,” the young man who answered