I put down my spoon and hid my face behind a coffee cup, looking at my first love across the table. Chris was a survivor, having grown up abused sexually and physically by a violent father, only to be adopted and abused sexually and physically as an adolescent by an equally violent stepfather. I didn’t really know what it was like, but I had a hint. My father was a drunk. He had problems holding down jobs, and it was my stepmother who brought in the cash. When I turned fifteen, Dad often made nocturnal forays down the hallway to my room, trying to force the lock as I shivered under my covers, terrified and helpless. My stepmother eventually caught him twisting the doorknob in the wee hours of the morning. I heard her shocked and angry voice. I was petrified that she’d turn her rage on me. Jean was a taskmaster—I cooked, I cleaned, and I babysat my younger sister while she worked. But I was so grateful to her when she told me the next morning in a calm voice that I shouldn’t worry. The nighttime visits were over.

I felt my eyes go moist. I laid my hand on Chris’s arm. “I think you’ve done an amazing job with your life, Donatti.”

He regarded my face. He ran an index finger under my eyes and wiped away my tears. He tickled my nose, then he smiled. “Right back at you, Doc.”

CHAPTER 12

THERE WERE SEVERAL Brooke Baers—all of them female. No Brook Baer, which didn’t mean he didn’t exist, only that he wasn’t a fan of social media. McAdams said, “Does Brook Baer pop up in any of your databases?”

“No, but ours are limited.” Decker checked his notes. “Okay, Marion said that Pauline was living with Baer in Denver somewhere.”

“Didn’t she say near Denver, not in Denver?”

“Gotta start somewhere. I’ll put in a call to them.”

He checked his watch. It was two p.m. their time. At twelve in the afternoon mountain time, most of the detectives were probably out in the field. Those left behind were probably on lunch breaks. He looked up Denver PD. It was divided into six districts. He started with District 1, and after a few transfers, he was disconnected.

Maybe he’d have better luck with District 2. After being transferred several times, Decker was relieved to hear a voice on the end of the line.

“Detectives. This is Barron.”

“Hi, this is Detective Peter Decker of Greenbury PD in Upstate New York. I’m working on a homicide, and it was my understanding that our victim had lived in or around Denver maybe fifteen years ago. I’m actually trying to track down her ex-husband so I can eliminate him from my investigation. You have a much bigger database than I do and maybe he’s in your files. His name is Brook Baer—”