Bloodlines

“No, Da, it’s me, Co

A small lamp near the bedside cast the only light in the room. His father had moved himself to a sitting position-an act that he could barely manage on his own, and only by enduring tremendous pain. Kieran O’Co

“Co

“Not come home?” O’Co

His father’s face twisted in agony.

“Da, lie back down now. I’ll get you something to eat.”

“To hell with that!” his father roared. “It’s your sister I’m worried about, not my damned belly!” And to O’Co

“Da,” he said, coming to his side, easing him back on the bed. “Da, don’t now. Don’t. It might not be anything-maybe she had to work overtime. I’ll call the factory…”

“I’ve already called,” his father said, quickly wiping a hand across his face. “There’s been no overtime since February.”

O’Co

“Co

“I’ll find her. I promise.”

He began by calling the neighbor who often walked with them. She was surprised at his questions-Maureen had walked as far as the corner of their street with her, before turning to walk toward home. Maureen had mentioned no other plans. The neighbor hadn’t noticed anyone else nearby.

O’Co

It was growing late now. He went back to the house and told his father that he’d had no luck. He called the police. He also called his mother, who got permission to leave work.

A patrolman came to the house. O’Co

“What do you mean, file it?” O’Co

“Most adult disappearances are voluntary, sir.”

“No-this isn’t voluntary. Someone has taken her. She takes care of my father. She’d never leave him. This is a crime…for God’s sake, she’s in danger!”

The officer shrugged. “People get tired of responsibilities. But we’ll keep an eye out for her.”

O’Co

The patrolman paused, then said, “Look, it’s not up to me. You call Detective Riley first thing tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow! By then she could be God knows where! He could have…” But the thought of what could be happening to her so distressed him, he couldn’t say it aloud.

The officer patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. I’ll be on the radio, asking all our patrol cars to keep an eye out for her. You just wait-I’ll bet she’ll come back a little later this evening. Ninety-nine percent of the time, if an adult disappears, it’s because they forgot to tell someone their plans or they don’t want to be found.”

“She’s in that one percent then,” O’Co

“If so, we’ll be a little more sure of it tomorrow.”

“That one percent,” O’Co

“Call Riley in the morning,” he said, and left.

Instead, O’Co

“Never mind Riley,” he said grimly. “Unfortunately, Missing Persons is the retiring cop’s pasture in most police departments around here. Riley-that asshole wasn’t any good when he was really on the job, and now he’s just sitting around waiting for them to engrave his gold watch. Speaking of which… hang on.” There was a brief pause. “It’s late, and Wrigley might not go for it, but let’s give it a try. Listen, Co

O’Co

Old Man Wrigley had been reached at home. By the time O’Co

O’Co

There was a pause, then Jack repeated the story of Maureen’s disappearance, and the patrolman’s lack of concern. There was another pause, then Jack said, “Yes, sir, the sister of one of our own staff. I know the family personally… Exactly, sir…No, she wouldn’t have abandoned her father.” O’Co

When he hung up, he said, “Chief claims it was all a misunderstanding. You go on home, I’ll file this and come by for some follow-up.”

Detectives came to the house. Jack came to the house-often over the next few days-and then other reporters, for other reasons. Friends and family, neighbors and curiosity seekers. None of them were of any use.

O’Co

Neither of his parents ever said that to him-in fact, once hearing him say it, they protested adamantly that it wasn’t so. But he believed that they must, in their heart of hearts, feel it to be true-that perhaps they even said it to each other, and only guilt had made them protest. It hardly mattered-he said it often enough to himself.

For five years, O’Co

O’Co

Alma was not Maureen, though. O’Co