“She’s an adult now. She’s no longer a missing child. I can’t make her come home. Even if I got her here, I can’t legally make her take medication. I can’t make her do anything. An adult is free to do as she pleases, even if that means living on the street and eating out of Dumpsters. Unless a person is dangerous to herself or others, and that is damned hard to prove, this is a free country.”

“I’m sorry.”

Chet pulled a pair of reading glasses from his chest pocket and cleaned them on the hem of his shirt. “Last March, on Teresa’s birthday, I closed the door on this room and promised myself I’d never open it again. I took two weeks of vacation and spent the time hammered on Johnnie Walker. I went to The Pub, turned into my alter ego, Drunken Asshole Man, and picked a fight with the biggest guy in the bar. Luckily for me, he wasn’t a drunken jerk. The bartender called Brody to come and get me. It wasn’t the first time, but I’d been sober for almost a year. My last bender had been right after my wife died. No one was arrested, but word got round, and the captain found out. He gave me my last warning. No drunks on his force. He warned me that I wouldn’t get another break.” He sighed, the exhalation sounding shaky and painful. His eyes met hers. “You don’t have to look so glum. I was coming up on the mandatory retirement age anyway. This week’s stint of stupidity just moved the date up six months.”

Hannah frowned.

Chet held up a palm. “The chief’s not a bad guy. He’s running a police department, not a rehab center. I either need to act like an adult and deal with my shit in a responsible manner, or I have no fucking business being on the police force.” He grimaced. “Please excuse the language.”

“I’ve heard worse in multiple languages,” Hannah said. “And how can you possibly move on after this week?”

“When the DNA results come back, I’ll have to.” Chet stopped rubbing his glasses. “Closing the door on this room didn’t do anything except let me not deal with my problems. I haven’t even answered the e-mail in the account I set up for the search for Teresa in six months. I didn’t return calls from my contacts. That is denial, pure and simple.”

“Brody doesn’t think it’s her.”

Chet’s shoulders slumped. “Brody is an optimist.”