Free Return To Lan Darr by Anderson Atlas Page A

Eyed Cop
    Rubic doesn’t have a cell signal. He holds up his phone but has no bars. Out of desperation, he hops onto the roof of the van and holds up his phone. A bar flickers on his phone so he calls the taxi company.
    “Did you get ahold of Charlie yet?” He snaps at the woman.
    “No, sir.” She checks the GPS signal. “My computer says that he dropped off Allan at the base of the mountain and is heading back into town.”
    “Are you serious!” Rubic’s anger takes a backseat as worry floods his mind. “Thanks.” He ends the call and dials the police.
    Rubic paces on the dirt road, sweating and cursing under his breath. Every now and again he hears a noise from the woods, and his eyes focus on the shadows but see nothing. Feelings of dread circle his body and sink deep into his muscles. He’s never been a fighter, but in this moment he is. He wants to fight someone, to punish whoever might have hurt his nephew and his girlfriend.
    Finally, after what seems like nine innings of a baseball game, a patrol car pulls up behind the gray van and stops. The officer gets out slowly, slips his baton into a belt loop, looks around cautiously, and adjusts his reflective mirror sunglasses. He approaches Rubic with a distinct swagger of someone who knows they have power.
    “Thank God you’re here!” Rubic says. “Two kids and one adult woman are missing since at least eight this morning. They came up here, but are gone now. I found this.” Rubic points out the crushed coffee cup and the cell phone, lying broken on the road. “They’re in trouble, I know it.”
    The officer holds up his hand, silencing Rubic. He takes a note pad and pen from his breast pocket. “Give me their names, sir. And your relation.”
    “Allan Westerfield and Laura… and Mrs. Domley. I don’t know Mrs. Domley’s first name. Allan is my nephew. I’m his guardian. Allan is fifteen, and Laura is fifteen.”
    The officer jots down notes then presses a button on his shoulder radio. “Two missing children and one adult.” He reports their names then adds, “No evidence of ‘At Risk.’”
    Rubic’s eyes pop open. “No evidence of at risk? What does that mean?” He thrusts his pointer finger at the broken cell phone on the road. “If that’s not evidence that they’re in trouble, then I’m a turkey sandwich! Come on!”
    The officer looks over his shiny glasses. “Sir, calm down please. A dropped cell phone does not directly indicate ‘At Risk.’”
    “It’s been smashed!”
    The officer looks at the phone again. “That it is. But you might have run it over.”
    “I didn’t.”
    “Let me do my job, sir.” The officer listens to a reply on his radio. “Amber alert approved, all points.” He looks at Rubic. “When were the teenagers last seen?”
    Rubic thinks about his chaotic morning. “I saw Allan last night, actually. He was not in the house this morning. I saw Laura this morning. A lady at the Food Mart saw Laura buy two coffees this morning and head up here.”
    “Hrm. I see. Date of birth? Descriptions?”
    Rubic relays all the information he can remember. “I don’t have Laura’s information or her mother’s, but I tried calling her. No answer.”
    “Do you have a recent photo of the missing persons?”
    Rubic flips through his phone and finds a picture of a recent barbecue at the park. In the photo Allan and Laura are smiling wide, and Laura is sitting on the wheelchair armrest with her arm around him. They look happy. Rubic feels a ball of sadness rise into his throat as he hands the photo over. “This is all I have. No photo of Mrs. Domley.”
    The officer stares at the photo for a moment. “The youngster in the wheelchair is missing? Are you sure?”
    “YES!”
    “Okay. You don’t have a printed photo? I’ll need a photo I can keep.”
    Rubic rolls his eyes. “No, nothing printed. Can I text you the pic?”
    The officer scratches his head. “I don’t know.” He pauses then reluctantly gives Rubic