He figured he could continue to call, but he didn't feel optimistic.
These weren't the kind of people who'd be forthcoming with details about anyone, and it probably didn't help that the police had already come by. He suspected that Ely's neighbors had spent a good portion of their lives avoiding school counselors and teachers, then cops and probation officers, possibly even bounty hunters.
He would've thought Ely himself had jumped bail. That would certainly explain why his neighbors were so tight-lipped. But Jonathan had checked for an open court case and hadn't found one.
Yawning, he leaned back in his chair and dialed Zoe's cell phone.
She answered on the first ring. "Hello?"
He winced at the eagerness in her voice, knew what she was hoping to hear. "It's me. Jonathan."
"Do you have anything?"
Nothing on Ely, but in the wee hours of the morning, he'd gone to the trouble of searching for a few details on Franky Bates. He had Franky's mother's address in San Diego. Chances were always good a mother could locate her son. He also had proof that Franky had applied for a job at a restaurant in the same city--a job he hadn't got--and even tried to get a credit card at the local Macy's. "I'm afraid not."
He waited a moment, giving her time to deal with the disappointment, then continued. "I pulled up the addresses directly surrounding the one you gave me for your father. I've called at least ten of his neighbors. Most don't answer."
"Anything before noon is too early."
They didn't have the luxury of waiting. "I managed to rouse an R.
Butler."
"R?"
"He told me his first name was Rhett, but he was chuckling when he said it."
"Rhett Butler. Funny guy."
"He thought so." Frustrated by his lack of progress, Jonathan got up and began to pace.
"I take it he wasn't cooperative."
She sounded so despondent he hated to tell her any more, but he needed her help. "Not that you'd notice. He told me he's never met your father. I also spoke to a Tilly Smith and a Heather Hatfield. Any chance you know either of these folks?"
"No. What'd they say?"
"Pretty much the same thing."
"The people who live at Mount Vernon Mobile Home Park don't like strangers snooping around. They have too many of their own secrets to guard."
He paused to gaze out the window over his kitchen sink--and saw a yard that'd gone mostly to weeds. When had that happened? How long had it been since he'd taken time to mow?
With a grimace, he turned away. His neighbors were probably getting impatient, but the lawn would have to wait another few days. "I definitely got that impression."
"So you can't find my father."
Let alone Sam. "I haven't found him yet. But I won't give up. I'm going to L.A."
"You think that'll make a difference?"
"I do if you're with me."
There was a moment of surprised silence. "But I've been away from that area for so long. I doubt I know anyone."
"You'll have a better chance of getting through to the neighbors than I will, or the police."
"But the people you spoke to might tell me the same thing. It's entirely possible they really don't know my father. The population rises and falls depending on when the cops come through on a drug bust."
He couldn't imagine her as a little girl, growing up in all of that. The person she'd become didn't even hint at such a beginning. Unless you were talking about the distrust that lingered in her eyes, and a tendency to hold the world at arm's length. How long had she been running from the trailer park?
Probably since well before she'd actually left it. Now, here she was, living at the opposite end of the spectrum in a respectable, upper-middle-class neighborhood, a perfect example of minivan, soccer-mom suburbia. "I understand, but I think it's worth the chance. It's only an hour's flight. Let's hop on a plane, pound a few doors, get folks talking."
"I can't leave Sacramento. What if Sam...I mean, she could come home and--"
"You have a cell. Anton can head up the search efforts in your absence. You trust him, don't you?"
She didn't answer.
"He's your fiance."
"But we're talking about my daughter. No one cares about her as much as I do."
"We're working against the clock, Zoe. We've got to trust him and the police on this end. Meet me at the airport, and we'll get on the next available flight. This is too important to leave to anyone else."
"Okay," she said at length.
"Is there someone, a friend or relative who can help Anton?"
"There's Colin, I guess."
"Colin?"
"My neighbor. He's doing what he can."
"If they find her, someone will call you."
"I know. It's just...it's so hard for me not to be here."
"Don't worry. We'll turn around immediately if there's a reason to do so, even if it means I have to rent a car and drive you back. I think we have to visit L.A." And maybe San Diego. As long as Franky was close and accessible, Jonathan figured he might as well look under that rock and, if possible, determine whether or not Sam's biological father was involved. He had no plans to take Zoe with him on that little side trip, however, so he saw no need to make the situation any worse for her by mentioning it. "Can you reach the airport in forty-five minutes?"
"I'll try. Should I pack anything?"
"Bring some clothes. Depending on what we find, and the availability of flights, we may have to stay over."
"Stay over?"
"Depending on what we find," he reiterated.
"Hopefully, that won't be necessary," she said.
Someone in the background--probably Anton--said, "What's going on?"
She covered the phone to respond. But Jonathan could still hear. "I'm going to Los Angeles with Skye's investigator."
The other voice grew louder and, at that point, Jonathan knew for sure it was Anton. "The man who was hugging you in my backyard?"
By the time Zoe arrived at the airport, Jonathan had purchased her ticket. He'd called while she was en route to tell her they'd be leaving from the new terminal. He was waiting by the skycaps in front when they pulled to the curb in Anton's Escalade.
Anton wasn't pleased that she was going. He'd scarcely said a word the entire ride over and grew even more morose when he saw the man who'd be escorting her. As she got out of the SUV, he came around to hand her the small carry-on bag he'd retrieved from the backseat, his jaw clenched.