Page 64 of The Advocate’s Ultimatum

He shifted back to Tyler. He had no public profile worth anything, no recent posts, and no obvious trail. But the name got a hit in a local employment listing, a warehouse distribution center.

He jotted it down.

The next one was Alana Ruiz, which took a little longer. Her name was too common, but JP narrowed it down by age, old address, and school district. Finally, he found her in a nursing program at a local community college.

“Still in the county,” he said.

He wrote: Alana Ruiz—student—local

JP looked at the list. They were just kids themselves at the time. Now they were adults. They were all present the day Hannah disappeared, and all assumed to have not seen anything.

He didn’t buy that. He turned back to the file and flipped to the teacher’s section.

Substitute teacher—Ms. Ellen Adams

JP frowned. “Sub,” he said. That explained a lot. Subs didn’t know routines. They didn’t know who walked where, who waited for who, and what was normal. Which meant no one verified whether Hannah left the way she was supposed to.

JP searched for the name. Adams was retired, but still in the system. The address popped up in a nearby town, Lemon Grove. He added it to the list.

He sat there a moment, scanning everything again, then flipped to the mother, Yvonne Caldwell.

He searched but couldn’t find a current address tied to her name. He tried variations: maiden name, prior addresses, past workplaces, but still nothing.

Either she had moved or she didn’t want to be found.

The mother missing from easy records seemed significant. He circled her name, then went back to Rourke’s report and read it again. This time he read not for what was there, but for what wasn’t.

Rourke had watched Hayes, noted inconsistencies, and tracked movement, but his witness section was thin.

Rourke didn’t strike JP as sloppy. So, if something wasn’t in the report, there must’ve been a reason. He would check with him.

He picked up the pen and added one more line at the bottom: Reconstruct timeline—after school release

His question had changed from: Who took Hannah? To: Who saw her last, and didn’t realize it mattered?

JP stood and grabbed his hat off the desk. His first stop would be Tyler Burch. People who stayed close to home usually carried the past with them. Sometimes whether they wanted to or not.

Chapter 23

Thursday late afternoon

The warehouse let workers out in waves. JP waited off to the side of the entrance, watching faces instead of badges or names. People came out tired, ready to be somewhere else. That’s when they were easiest to talk to.

A young man in his early twenties came through the doors a few minutes later. He was leaner than the kid in the file photo, but his face hadn’t really changed.

JP stepped forward. “Tyler Burch?”

Tyler slowed. “Yeah?”

JP handed him a card. “JP Torn. I’m looking into something from a while back.”

Tyler glanced at the card, then back at him. “What kind of something?”

“Hannah Caldwell.”

That stopped him. “Did they find her?”

“No. I’m afraid not. But something has led us back to this case, so I’m trying to get all the facts.”