and the New Orleans Police Department had already informed her that her concern over her missing employee was misplaced. Anna Huval had a history of skipping town with undesirable men and usually surfaced when the disastrous relationship had run its short course. Colette had intimate understanding of choosing the wrong man, although her choices hadn’t been near as wild or frequent as Anna’s. But her two disappointing whirls with noncommittal men had given her enough sorrow to be sympathetic to Anna’s heartbreak, even if it was self-induced.
But all that was in the past. With Colette’s guidance, Anna had turned her life around, and for the past six months, she had been on a path that guaranteed her a healthy, successful future. The only problem was no one believed it would last, and Anna’s disappearance was a signal to many that she’d relapsed into the behavior that was so familiar to her.
Colette understood exactly why people felt that way. Logically, it was the best explanation, and if Colette hadn’t gotten to know Anna so well, she would have bought completely into it, also. But despite the lack of evidence of something dire, and a seemingly logical explanation for what had happened given Anna’s past, Colette knew something terrible had happened to the young nurse’s aide.
She pushed the car door open and stepped out. The detective agency specialized in situations the police wouldn’t handle—giving concerned friends and family a second chance for answers. Anna’s disappearance fit that description. If Alex and her husband, Holt, didn’t think her case had merit, then they’d tell her, and that would be that.
The door to the agency was partially open, so she pushed it a bit farther and stuck her head inside. Alex stood talking to a contractor in the middle of what was probably going to be a reception area once it had paint, flooring and furniture. As the sunlight crept in through the open door, her former coworker looked over and waved when she saw Colette.
“Did you come to take my temperature?” Alex asked as Colette stepped inside.
“Why? Are you sick?”
“I must be to think I could handle the construction management myself.”
Colette laughed. “Well, I’m hardly going to accuse a psychiatrist of being crazy, so sick it is. Perhaps a mind-altering flu.”
“Sounds lovely,” Alex said and pointed to the only portion of the house away from the loud saws and other construction equipment. “My office is this way. It’s the only place with decent flooring and chairs.” She leaned over and whispered, “Plus, I have the gourmet single-serve coffeemaker hidden in my filing cabinet.”
Colette felt her spirits rise as she followed Alex into a pretty office with blue walls and white trim located in a corner of the building. In addition to being intelligent, attractive and empathetic, Alex was the most intuitive person she’d ever met. If there was help to be found, she’d find it here.
She took a seat in front of the desk and made small talk while Alex made them coffee, catching her up on all the hospital gossip since she’d resigned the month before. Then Alex slid into the chair behind her desk and gave her a shrewd look.
“While I am very happy to see you, I doubt you drove all the way to Vodoun to bring me up to speed on the latest inner workings of New Orleans General.”
“No. I have a problem … one I’m hoping you can help me with.”
Alex pulled a pad of paper and pen out of her desk drawer. “Tell me.”
“Anna Huval didn’t report to work on Friday. She was scheduled for the evening shift, but was a no-show/no-call.”
“You tried to reach her, of course.”
“Yes. I called her apartment and her cell. When I didn’t get an answer, I checked with the emergency room of all area hospitals, then when I came up empty there, I called the police. Fortunately, they had no Jane Does in the morgue that matched Anna’s description, and they let me file a report but said they probably wouldn’t look into it until Monday. Yesterday.”
Alex nodded. “Because most adults turn up within twenty-four to forty-eight hours and haven’t been victims of a crime.”
“Exactly.”
“So did they investigate on Monday?”
“I pestered them and they finally agreed to check her apartment. I’d already tried to get in but the landlord has gotten in trouble for letting unauthorized people into apartments before and wasn’t budging.”
“Did you find anything inside?”
“No sign of forced entry or a struggle, and her backpack was missing. Since she started nursing school, she carries it with her everywhere, sneaking in study time whenever she can.” Colette frowned. “But the thing is, her books were on her bed. Scattered like they’d been tossed there in a hurry. The bed itself was still made.”
“Could you tell if any clothes were missing?”
Colette shook her head. “I don’t know. There were no large gaps in her closet, so if she intended to leave, she didn’t take much, but then, she didn’t have much to begin with.”
“Tell me more about her cell phone.”
“She has a prepaid one that I’ve been calling every couple of hours, but it goes straight to voice mail. The police called the cell-phone company to track it, but they said it’s either turned off or not in range.”
“Did the police find any other reason to suspect she’d taken off on her own volition?”
Colette struggled with her own frustration and disappointment. Now that she was repeating the facts out loud, she could see exactly why the New Orleans police weren’t taking her seriously, and the next bit of information was not going to make the situation any better.
“Colette?”
She sighed. “Her bank said she withdrew four hundred dollars on Friday evening, a couple of hours before her shift was due to start.”
Alex raised her eyebrows and tapped her pen on the desk.
“I know how this looks,” Colette said. “If you take the facts and couple them with Anna’s reputation for hooking up with the wrong men, then you have a foolish girl adding one more wild weekend to a very colorful past. But I promise you, that is not the young woman Anna is now.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Well, I suppose no one can be one hundred percent sure, but I’ve worked with her every week for the last year. When she told me she wanted to turn her life around, I got her counseling with hospital staff as a start. After three months of therapy, she told me she wanted to be a nurse, and I helped her get grants for nursing school. She comes to me with questions on her courses, and I can see her interest and focus clear as day.”
“Maybe a family emergency …”
“She’s always claimed she has no family left, and I’ve never seen evidence of any since I’ve known her. Besides, if it was an emergency, why wouldn’t she call me? She trusts me. She knows I would help.”
“Perhaps it’s not the sort of emergency you would help with.”
“What do you mean?”
