Free Return To Lan Darr by Anderson Atlas Page B

a phone number. He speaks into his radio again. “Dispatch, all we have is a digital photo. Can I text it to you after the guardian texts it to me? Then you can text it to Department of Missing and Abused Children. They can text it to the online bulletin. Maybe I can text it to Captain Richardson. Oh, and someone text it to search and rescue.”
    Rubic is going to jump out of his skin. He paces again. The stoic nature of this entire conversation is maddening. How can this officer be so calm? It feels like Rubic is ordering a pizza with extra cheese and the dingbat taking the order doesn’t know where the extra cheese button on the cash register is.
    Another police car pulls up and parks, and an overweight officer hauls himself out. He walks past Rubic, adjusting his belt and looking around. Then two brown ranger Jeeps pull up. In half an hour there are half a dozen officers around. Rubic takes a deep breath, feeling more in control now that the word is getting out.
    A state park ranger with a shaggy mustache walks up to Rubic. “Hey, Rubic Westerfield?”
    Rubic nods and shakes his hand.
    “I was there when Allan disappeared a year ago.” The ranger smiles and Rubic recognizes his face. “Same side of the mountain too, same canyon.”
    “I remember you. Thank you for your help then, and now,” Rubic answers. “I’m sorry for this. I don’t know why this is happening again. It’s ridiculous.”
    The first officer on the scene interrupts, “Mr. Westerfield, an officer got in contact with Charlie, the taxi driver. He dropped Allan off at your home, fifteen minutes ago.”
    “What!!” Rubic’s heart simply stops beating.
    “They’re knocking on your door, but no one is answering. Do they have permission to enter your residence?”
    “Hell yes! Tell them to break the damn window if they have to.”
    “That won’t be necessary.” The officer speaks into his radio.
    Rubic falls to his butt, feeling like he’s going to faint. The ranger hands him a water bottle. He feels silly for calling the police. Allan is at home. Rubic looks around at the yellow evidence placards next to the coffee cup and the cell phone. The flock of officers and rangers mill around chatting like at a cocktail party. Rubic had truly jumped the gun. But what about Laura and Mrs. Domley?
    The skinny officer returns to Rubic, now towering over him like a giraffe. “Sorry, sir. But Allan is not in the house, and there are signs of a struggle as well.”
    Rubic leaps to his feet. “I’ve got to get home. What time is it? How long have we been here?” Panic returns to Rubic’s body like an old nemesis. It grips his throat and threatens to tear his body apart.
    “Laura’s mother is missing as well as Laura. Mr. Domley has been contacted. He’s just as worried as you are. Laura and Mrs. Domley and Allan are missing, and we now have evidence of risk. That means the entire force has been notified and is on high alert. We’ll find them. We’re holding Charlie, just in case. But he says he stopped at a flower shop and Allan bought flowers and asked to be returned home.”
    Rubic’s eyes widen. Flowers, huh. He throws himself into the van, fires up the engine, then pounds on the steering wheel. “This isn’t happening!” His skin is hot as if lava has replaced his blood. A police cruiser blocks his exit. “Can someone pull their head out of the sand long enough to move that car!” The police stare for a moment, not sure what to think about a civilian ordering them around. Finally, the car is moved. Rubic hits the gas, intentionally throwing dust into the air. He drives home with two officers following close behind.
    Rubic parks and runs up the ramp and into the house. There are a dozen cops inside milling around. Rubic immediately sees the mess in the kitchen. Tupperware litters the floor, the knife block is tipped over, and a knife is missing. The garage door is wide open as well. Officers inspect Rubic’s golf club bag that sits on