The Search

I used to work for the F.B.I., in the Portland office. It was my childhood dream to be the one who gets the bad guy.         My fiftieth birthday was in just three months. I had a wife and three children, still do, and the same job I'd had since my graduation from Quantico. We were living just outside Portland. My oldest son, John jr., was in his third year at Washington. The twins …

…me.         The next day, I received a call from Franklin, in Boise. I was commended by him for putting myself on the line. He granted me early retirement, and a bonus for being injured. He asked if I might know anything about the disappearance of David Brown from his grandparents' house in the middle of the night. I told him I did not. I bid him farewell, hung up, and dialed John's number at school.