* * *

Dakota talked to Bob Packard at least twice during the day and every evening. He gave him a full report on what he was learning and urged him to stay in Connecticut on the chance Sedona found her way home. Bob agreed, with great difficulty as he was growing impatient and ever more worried.

“My mother and sister are staying at the house, propping us up and feeding us during this crisis,” he said. “I’ll stay a few more days but then I’m coming to Colorado to help look for her. That’s where she disappeared, that’s where she’s going to be found.”

“I agree that’s likely,” Dakota said. “Stay where you are a little longer while I keep canvassing the area she was last seen. And tell me more about Sedona.”

“I didn’t notice anything was wrong for a long time. She was a quirky perfectionist but I worked with a guy who lines up his pens and polishes the glass top of his desk every morning. She was not very social—she didn’t like to be around people she didn’t know well and crowds made her crazy. Is that weird? I run an architecture firm, and talk about antisocial perfectionists... She was always busy, she worked hard and for a long time was an amazing wife. Amazing. A spotless house, smart and clean children, good food on the table every night. I took her completely for granted, but she said she liked it that way. It wasn’t until two, three, maybe four years ago that I started to notice patterns—like a routine for how she worked in her kitchen, a routine to include things like wiping the counter a certain way, then going back and doing it all again...and again... She folded things like napkins a certain way, making a little V at the end of the toilet tissue. And she wasn’t sleeping much. She was jumpy and edgy, and when she thought I wasn’t paying attention, she was talking to herself. Not a little bit. A lot. That’s when I started to get worried. But I didn’t think it was anything that couldn’t be fixed.”

“Did you suggest counseling?”

“Oh, hell, no,” Bob said. “I told her to go to a doctor! I told her I bet she should be on some tranquilizer or antidepressant, like Prozac. I wanted her to do what she usually does—just go take care of it.”

“But she said... There was talk of divorce?”

“She was folding clothes that had already been folded, cleaning bathroom tiles with a toothbrush she had to then throw away, washing clothes three times before they were clean... And maybe she wasn’t talking to herself. Maybe she was talking to people the rest of us couldn’t see.”

“We called them Jed’s ‘special friends,’” Dakota said.

“I started to suspect she was crazy. Like her father.”

“The good news is, she is nothing like our father, who is schizophrenic and has an entirely imagined life that isn’t based in reality. But Sedona could have similar problems if she’s sleep-deprived,” Dakota said.

“I’m really surprised she’s not manic depressive. I thought that’s what I was witnessing. Wide awake for days... What if something terrible has happened to her? I waited too long. I should have taken her to the doctor myself. But I wouldn’t have known who to call.”

“I’m planning on everything working out okay,” Dakota said. “She’s going to be okay.”

“Man, I thought she was okay,” Bob said. “I’ll never trust myself again.”

* * *

During the first several days that Dakota was in Denver, he talked to a lot of people, then began knocking on doors in the neighborhood, particularly those between the restaurant and Maggie’s house, to ask if anyone had seen her. The restaurant, small and upscale, was one of several and was located in a neighborhood of shops and salons, a seniors’ extended-care apartment complex, a nursing home, a school, a couple of markets, two churches and a group of medical offices. The private detective, Ben Cousins, visited most of the shop owners and was looking for security video, but since Sedona had been missing for more than twenty-four hours before they started canvassing, there was no relevant surveillance video available. Most of the shop owners agreed to put flyers in their windows.

Then they had their first real break—her purse was found. It was emptied of credit cards, money and ID, looked like it had been run over by a truck that left some tread marks on the leather, but inside was Dr. Tayama’s business card with her cell phone number written on the back. The doctor said she didn’t make a habit of doing that and none of her friends or acquaintances had mentioned losing a purse. Of course, it could have been given to a charity like Goodwill or a homeless shelter and the card overlooked and left inside, but they were operating under the assumption that it was Sedona’s purse.

On the downside, it was found fifteen miles away, on the other side of the city, and only served to broaden the search.

Maggie, Cal and Elizabeth drove up from Timberlake to go door-to-door with Dakota. Maggie was able to confirm that the purse looked like the one Sedona carried.

The next day Sierra, Connie and little Sam were there for several hours.

Over the week a couple of people said she looked somewhat familiar but they couldn’t say where they might have seen her or even whether it was Sedona or someone who looked like her.

All that week while Dakota and others were canvassing, Ben Cousins and his assistants were making dozens if not hundreds of phone calls, sharing information with the police. They checked bus, plane and train passengers, outlying hotels and motels, called businesses, texted pictures and stayed in close touch with Bob, who continually checked bank balances and ATM withdrawals.

On Saturday, Sid came to Denver. She arrived early in the morning and brought an overnight bag. Just the sight of her at the door to Maggie’s house took Dakota by such sweet surprise he grabbed her in his arms and held her so tightly she squeaked. He put her down and kissed her passionately, the kind of kiss he usually reserved for when they were alone.

She pushed him away with a small laugh. “Cody,” she said.

“Why are you here?” he asked her.

“I’m here to work. I’ll help you today and tomorrow. I’ll stay over, if you’re okay with that.”

“I wish it wasn’t this kind of work,” he said, pulling her close again. “It’s really discouraging.”

“Then we’ll get through it together, okay?”

They started with coffee and a phone update from Ben Cousins. Dakota put it on speaker so Sid could listen. Today they would visit service stations and convenience stores in the area where Sedona’s purse was found. They covered a lot of ground even though there were many stops for phone calls from Bob, Cal, Sierra and others. They ate lunch on the run and got back on their route. Dinner was a quick stop for pizza, and after that, they hit a couple of crowded pubs and talked to the people there, both the waitstaff and customers.

Finally, too late to knock on doors or pester businesses, they went back to Maggie’s house, where Dakota had been staying. Exhausted, Sid begged for a shower. Afterward, snug in an extralong T-shirt and soft shorts, hair combed through and wet, she looked for Dakota and found him in the kitchen. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, swirling an amber liquid covering ice.

“I’m having a whiskey,” he said. “Maggie has a good selection of wine and there’s this. No soft drinks, I’m afraid.”

“I’d love a glass of wine,” she said. “Is there a white wine?”

He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a chardonnay, showing it to her.

“Perfect,” she said. “Maybe we can relax a little bit. Tomorrow’s another day.”

He opened the bottle, poured her a glass and touched her glass with his. “Thank you for coming,” he said. “Sid, this isn’t how I’d have planned a night away with you to be. I would have taken you to a nice restaurant, put on some soothing music, gotten in that shower with you, rolled around in the bed with you for hours... And I’m—”

“Exhausted, I know. Of course you are.”

“And distracted, when I’d like to give you all my attention.”

She leaned against him and he slid an arm around her waist. “I’m sorry for what you must be going through but I’m so proud of you,” she said. “I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about men and I sure haven’t been wondering what kind of man is right for me. I honestly didn’t think there was room in my life for a man after having chosen so badly once and paid such a high price. But, Dakota, you’re the right kind of man. A man who will do the right thing, the good thing, even at a personal sacrifice.”

“Don’t give me too much credit. I haven’t done much for my family in the past and I’m feeling a debt because of that. I’m not that good. I’m late, that’s what I am. I spent a lot of years waiting for my family to make it up to me because I had a rough adolescence and it never dawned on me that maybe I could grow up and get over it now and do something for them. Then I found out that poor Sedona is about as fucked up as I am.”

“You seem like the most normal man I know,” she said.

“There are things I should tell you,” he said. “Full disclosure—I hated my parents. I was ashamed of them. My father is sick, but I was angry because it embarrassed me. Because people laughed at us, made fun of us. It felt to me like Cal and Sedona were unaffected, though clearly they weren’t. I worried a lot about how hard I had it and didn’t pay any attention to what anyone else was going through.”

“You were just a boy,” she said.

“I haven’t been a boy in a long time, Sid.” He stroked her hair. “The truth is, I didn’t have much compassion for my own family until Sedona went off the rails. God, I hope she’s all right.”

“I hope so, too,” Sid said. “It’s very scary but just a little less so when families stick together. Friends and family. I’m in this with you. I want to be.”

“It’s okay. Cal and Maggie are coming back up. So are Sierra and Connie when he has a couple of days. Police have started looking in isolated places, Sid. I think they’re looking for any indication a body—”