Reclaim: A Recovered Innocence Novel by Beth Yarnall Page A

client or in the courtroom so I didn’t think anything about it. Then when he didn’t come home around the time he usually did I called him a second time. He didn’t answer that call either. I didn’t start to panic until a few hours later when he hadn’t called or returned any of my texts. I knew something was wrong.
    “I called the police and filed a missing persons report right away. They found his car parked where he usually parks at work, but no one in the office had seen him come in. Somewhere between the parking lot and the office he vanished. I’m hoping you coming here today means that the police are looking into his disappearance again. Since the trail grew cold it seems like they gave up trying to find him.”
    “We’ll do our best,” I tell her. “Had he gotten any unusual phone calls in the days before his disappearance?”
    “No. Not that I noticed.”
    “Did the police find his cellphone?”
    “No. They tried to see if they could catch its signal, but the phone seems to have vanished with John. Don’t you have all of this information from the police?”
    “Some, but it doesn’t hurt to go over it again with you. You knew him better than anyone. What was his mood in the days before he went missing? Did there seem to be anything bothering him?”
    “No. Not that I noticed. Just the usual stresses.”
    “Did he have any visitors or change his schedule in any way?”
    “No. Everything was exactly as it always had been until the day he vanished.”
    I thought about this next question during the ride to the Martin house and just how I could phrase it to accomplish what we are really here to do. “Did he ever talk to you about any of his cases? Were there any that might have bothered him more than the others?”
    “He talked to me about them in general terms. Mostly about his frustrations with a judge or opposing counsel. No specifics about the cases themselves. He believed deeply in the attorney–client privilege and had very high ethical standards for himself and those he worked with. It was one of the things I really loved about him, his devotion to his clients.”
    Beside me Lila chokes on her cookie and starts coughing.
    I give her a couple of thumps on the back. “Are you okay?”
    She nods and takes a sip of milk.
    I turn back to Debbie when I’m sure Lila’s all right. “Did he keep a home office?”
    “Yes.” She gestures over her shoulder. “Down the hall.”
    “Would you mind if we had a look?”
    “The police already went through it.”
    “There might be something they overlooked in their initial investigation. You never know.”
    “I haven’t touched it since…” She gives the hall a troubled look. “I suppose a fresh set of eyes couldn’t hurt.”
    I have to put a hand on Lila’s lower leg where Debbie can’t see so she doesn’t bolt up off the couch. “We’ll be respectful of his space. We don’t want to disturb anything, just have a look around.”
    Debbie rises without a word and goes down the hall. Lila and I exchange a look in which I try to warn her to have patience and let me continue to lead. She glances up at the ceiling like she’s searching for that patience and then nods in agreement. We follow Debbie to a closed door at the end of the hall.
    “I haven’t touched it,” she says. “Not even to dust. I just can’t bring myself to go in there.”
    “We understand.” Lila rests a hand on Debbie’s shoulder. “Thank you for letting us have a look around.”
    Debbie pulls a wad of keys out of her pocket, selects one, and unlocks the door. “I’ve got some things to do in the kitchen.” She tears up a little. “Let me know when you’re finished.” She darts back down the hall without a backward glance.
    Lila eyes the door like it’s the entrance to a tomb.
    “At least she won’t know if we moved anything since she never goes in there,” I say.
    She gives me a look.
    “What?”
    “I know you’re right and there’s a bigger picture