Page 46 of Concealed in Death

“Missing Persons filed by the aunt. It’s looking like her parents were both killed in an accident, the mother’s sister—the only living relative in the States—named as guardian.

“A scatter of maternal relatives in Mexico.”

As she continued to scan data, Roarke went to the wall unit for a bottle of wine.

“Okay, okay, the aunt worked as a maid for the Faremont Hotel, West Side. She was mugged on the way home from work, badly beaten, sliced up some, too. Had to spend a few weeks in the hospital and in rehab. She requested the kid be registered at The Sanctuary; she knew someone who’d had a kid in there. Court granted the temporary stay. She goes in, comes out, goes back home. And three weeks later, goes missing. Missing on September seventeenth. Five days after Linh Penbroke.”

“Lured back.”

“Could be. She went missing fifteen days after The Sanctuary changed locations. The place was empty. She’d never been in any trouble, neither had the aunt. Running the aunt for current data now.”

“She wasn’t a runaway,” Roarke said. “Troubled, yes, but by the loss of her parents.” There, he thought, the reason for the tragic eyes.

“The aunt’s married. Ten years to a Juan Delagio. She’s now head housekeeper, day shift, at the Antoine Hotel, tony East Side employment now. She’s on the East Side, too, not an especially tony area, but a decent one.”

“That’s one of mine—the hotel.”

“Well, we couldn’t get around that for long.” Eve glanced up. “Do you know her?”

“I don’t, but I can get a full employment record from the manager.”

“Not yet anyway. She and Juan have three kids. He’s on the job, out of the two-two-six.” She swung to her ’link, then frowned at the glass of wine Roarke set in front of her.

“I’ll see about dinner,” he said.

“But I—”

“We’ll eat, and we’ll sort through all this while we do.”

“Fine, okay. Fine. This is Lieutenant Dallas out of Central,” she began as Roarke walked back down to the kitchen and the AutoChef.

When he came back in she was talking to someone—he assumed whoever had caught the Missing Persons case—taking notes.

He left her to it, used the little table to set down the meal.

“Appreciate it,” she said. “And yeah, I’ll keep you in the loop on her.”

She clicked off, frowned at the wine again. But this time she picked it up, sampled.

“I caught the detective who headed the investigation. She’s got a solid memory. She said she remembered this one especially as her daughter was the same age at the time.”

“Come eat, and tell me.”

She thought how much easier a slice of pizza would’ve been since she could’ve kept working while she chowed it down. But still, reviewing what she had with him couldn’t be considered a waste of time.

She went over, sat across from him. “Another reason she remembers is she and the aunt keep in touch. At least once a year one of them contacts the other, just to touch base. What I get is the kid was pretty shattered when her parents were killed, but it helped some she was tight with the aunt. They got counseling, and the kid seemed to be coming along.”

“It must be crushing, even with a close family member able and willing to care for you, to lose both parents that way.”

“Had to go to a new school, too, as the aunt didn’t have enough money to move and keep her where she’d been. But according to the aunt, and the detective believed her, still does, the kid was doing better. Then about a week or so before she went missing, she started coming home late from school. The aunt had to work, but she had a neighbor keep an eye out for Lupa, and she started coming in just before her aunt was due home.

“This is really good,” she said after another bite.

“Thanks. I slaved over the AutoChef for minutes.”

Grinning, she ate some more. “When the aunt called her on it, the kid claimed she was just hanging with her new friends, doing her homework with them. But she was evasive, and the aunt didn’t push. Felt she needed some room. Then one day she didn’t come home at all.”

“From all you said, she doesn’t sound like a runaway.”