Free One by One by Chris Carter Page A

play late no more.’
    ‘Play late?’ Garcia asked.
    Anita chuckled nervously. ‘Kevin is a big niño. He works in games shop because he love games. He always playing games like a child. Before Lilia was born, many nights he stay in shop after work, playing games on Internet until morning with work friends. But he always called me to say he be playing. But now that we have Lilia, he doesn’t play late no more. He’s a good father.’
    Garcia nodded his understanding.
    ‘He didn’t call you on Monday night?’ Hunter asked.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Did you call him?’
    ‘Yes, but he no answer phone. Message said phone not ’vailable.’
    ‘What time was that, can you remember? What time did you call your husband?’
    Anita didn’t have to think about it. ‘Not late. Around eight thirty. Kevin is never late home. He is usually back from work by eight o’clock.’
    Hunter wrote that down.
    ‘Did you talk to any of his work colleagues from the shop? Was he at work on Monday?’
    ‘Yes. I call the shop Monday night. After I tried calling Kevin. No answer. Nobody there. I call the policia at eleven, but they didn’t care. A cop came by at around one in the morning, but he just said I had to wait. Maybe Kevin would be back home in the morning. Morning came and Kevin not home. Then I call shop again. Talk to Emilio. Emilio is a good friend. Old friend. He said Kevin worked on Monday, but no stay after work to play Internet games. He said they closed the shop at seven and Kevin left. I called police again, but they still didn’t care. They say Kevin was not a child. They had to wait one or two days before they could do anything.’
    Hunter and Garcia knew that to be true. In America, any adult has the right to go missing if he or she wants to. Maybe they don’t want to see their wife or husband for a day or two. Maybe they just need a break from everything. It was their prerogative. California’s Missing Persons’ protocol dictated that they should wait between twenty-four and forty-eight hours before filing a missing persons’ complaint for anyone over the age of eighteen.
    Hunter took some more notes. ‘Does Kevin drive to work?’
    ‘No, he takes bus.’
    ‘Did you, as a family, have any financial problems?’ Garcia asked.
    ‘Financial?’
    ‘Money problems,’ Garcia clarified.
    Anita shook her head vigorously. ‘No. We pay everything on time. We don’t owe nobody no money.’
    ‘Did Kevin?’ Garcia pursued it. ‘Did he gamble?’ He noticed her confused look and clarified again before she could ask. ‘Bet . . . apuesta. Did he bet . . . on horses, or Internet poker or anything?’
    The face Anita pulled was as if Garcia had bad-mouthed her entire family. ‘No. Kevin is a good man. A good father. He’s a good husband. We go to church every Sunday.’ She indicated the portrait of Jesus on the wall. ‘Kevin likes videogames, like boom, boom, boom, shoot monsters.’ She used her thumb and index finger to create an imaginary gun. ‘Shoot soldiers in war, you know? But he’s no betting chico. Él no apuesta. Just like to play. We save all the money we can – for Lilia.’ She looked down at her daughter, who was still happily sucking on her dummy. ‘His heart is not so good, you know? He takes medicine. Doctor said he has to be careful. He is scared he won’t see Lilia grow up, so he saves for her future.’ Anita’s eyes started to fill with tears. ‘Something is wrong. I know it. Kevin always call. There was no bus accident. I checked. This neighborhood very dangerous. This city very dangerous. People think LA is all about Hollywood and big life, you know? It’s not.’ A tear ran down her cheek. ‘I’m scared. Kevin and Lilia is all I have. My family is in Puerto Rico. You have to find Kevin for me. You have to.’
    Hunter’s heart sank for the second time, and he felt something tighten inside his chest because he knew there was nothing he could do. It was time to tell Anita the