Page 123 of The Advocate’s Ultimatum

"Do you know where the previous owner went?"

The husband shook his head.

"Arizona maybe? That's all the realtor told us."

JP thanked them and left. He saw an elderly man watering roses next door. He approached and asked him about the informant.

He remembered her. "Nice lady."

"Do you know where she moved?"

"Nope."

"Did she have any family?"

He shrugged. “I never saw any."

JP stood on the sidewalk for a moment. He had reached another dead end.

He walked back toward the apartment complex, slowing near the pool. The layout matched Rourke's description almost perfectly. A child could sit on one of the benches and watch everyone in the water. The apartments overlooked the courtyard. It all fit, just no Hannah.

He slipped the folded paper back into his pocket. Every detail was believable, and the neighbor could’ve seen Hannah. But after half a day of knocking on doors and chasing records, he couldn't prove a single word of it because time had erased everything that might have confirmed it.

JP climbed into his truck and muttered, "Some trails don't just go cold. Somebody pours water on 'em."

~~~

JP changed gears toward Todd Maddox. He started where Maddox had last belonged to anything, his neighborhood. And belonged was generous.

The blocks around Maddox’s duplex in El Cajon were a patchwork of aging apartments, storefront churches, pawn shops, check-cashing windows, and auto yards. It was the kind of area where a man could be noticed every day and known by no one. JP liked such places. Truth tended to leak there in small amounts.

With Maddox’s digital photo on his cell, he started walking. His first stop was the laundromat across the street. The woman behind the counter barely glanced at the picture. “Nope.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure I don’t care.”

Next was a market on the corner. The clerk studied the photo longer. “Maybe.”

“Maybe means yes or no?”

“Maybe means buy something.”

JP bought gum.

Then got: “No.”

He thanked him anyway.

A tire shop gave him two mechanics and two different answers:

“Never seen him.”

“Looks familiar.”

Neither meant anything.

JP moved on. Two apartment managers said no. One taco stand said no. Then there was a bus stop regular who claimed, in the same conversation, that Maddox worked for the cartel, the city, and NASA.