“So, how long did you say you were going to be staying?” Patty asked, rocking on her heels and looking pointedly at where Asahi was sitting at Mike’s old desk.

“I didn’t,” Asahi stated.

He ignored Patty’s glare. She had been doing that a lot since he arrived late this afternoon. The one thing he couldn’t ignore was her tapping the pencil against the notebook in her hand. It might have been a nervous gesture, except for the glare she was presently shooting at him, which almost certainly made it an intentionally irritating gesture.

“He’s coming back,” Patty stated.

Asahi looked up and replied, “No… He is not.”

Patty’s eyes widened and filled with tears. “You can’t know that for certain,” she insisted.

“I do not require any more assistance at this time, Miss…,” Asahi said, resting his forearms on the desk.

A flash of rebellion flickered across Patty’s face. “You’re the CIA, you figure it out,” she snapped, turning on her heel. “I’m late to pick up my son. Don’t forget to lock the front door when you leave.”

Asahi waited until the bell over the front door of the police station jingled and the door slammed before he sat back in the chair. Patricia ‘Patty’ LaBelle had not been pleased to see him when he walked into the police station an hour ago. The receptionist had been like a chihuahua nipping at his heels. He pursed his lips when a slight shudder ran through him at the visual.

He looked down with distaste at the tattered state of the file he had requested from Patty. Coffee stains, a few oil marks, and what looked like crusted frosting covered the exterior of the folder. His memory flashed to the empty donut bag in the trashcan next to Patty’s desk and he wondered if she had purposely coated the file before bringing it back to him.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have been quite so blunt when he ordered Patty to provide him with the files he needed and leave him alone... and he probably shouldn’t have turned into Mike Hallbrook’s office instead of the empty storage room she’d tried to direct him to. Oh well. He was here now… with this disgusting folder.

Carefully gripping the folder by the corner, he opened it. Inside, he discovered the papers were in pristine condition and chronological order. He turned the pages, pausing when he saw the photograph of a local fisherman. Lifting it up, he recognized the name. Ross Galloway had been a suspect in each of the previous disappearances. He scanned the information, noting that Ross liked to visit The Underground Pub.

Asahi looked up at the clock on the wall. His eyebrow rose at the message written across the black background of the clock in iridescent white letters: The White Pearl. Below that was the owner’s name – Pearl St. Claire – and the address. Shaking his head, he decided that the entire office had been decorated with local thrift shop blue light specials.

Another glance at the clock told him that if he left now, he would have time for a quick visit to Mike Hallbrook’s former home before stopping at the Underground Pub for dinner. He removed the stack of papers from the ruined folder. Testing the file drawer on each side of the desk, he was surprised when they both opened. Inside one was a green tennis ball, dog bowl, and leash. In the other drawer were empty folders and an assortment of forms. He pulled out one of the new folders and inserted the stack of papers before closing both drawers and tossing the soiled folder into the trashcan.

Asahi rose out of the chair and exited the office. There was something special about Yachats. This was not the first time an unexplained phenomenon had occurred in the area. There had to be a connection. He was determined to discover what it was and solve a cold case that had lingered unexplained and unresolved for more than forty years.

Locking the front door, he pocketed the keys Patty had reluctantly handed him. He crossed the sidewalk, unlocking the white SUV rental car with the touch of a button as he went, then opened the door, and slid in. Pressing the start button, he shifted and slowly reversed out of the parking space. Ruth Hallbrook had given him permission to search the house with the understanding that nothing was to be disturbed or destroyed in the process. She planned on being here in a couple of weeks and would be staying in the house.

Asahi honestly didn’t expect to discover any new information from the house. He had already been there once before. No, his best opportunity would come from talking to Ross Galloway. He hoped the man was in the mood to share what he knew.

Ross applied the brakes and used his turn signal before turning into the narrow driveway of his mother’s house. It was a small, wooden structure painted in a dark sea blue with white shutters. The house wasn’t much, but it was in good shape for its age.

He shifted the truck into park and turned off the ignition. Sitting in the dark, he lit up another cigarette. His mom hated that he smoked so much, and out of respect for her, he never did so in front of her. He inhaled a deep breath, letting the addictive nicotine fill his lungs, and looked at the house with a critical eye.

The right shutter was drooping again. He needed to replace the hinge and make sure the wood wasn’t rotting. He’d just finished painting the damn place three months ago. There was always something that needed to be repaired. Between the boat and this house, it was a never-ending job.

He knew he was procrastinating. As much as he cared about his mom, he hated going in the house. It brought back too many bad memories, even after all these years. Dropping the remains of his cigarette into the can he used as an ashtray, he released a tired sigh. Tonight would be a short visit. He’d see what new project his mom wanted done, then make an excuse to leave early, and head down to the Underground for a bite to eat and a beer or two before he headed back to his own place.

He had a lot on his mind. Without any conclusive video of the strange woman he’d seen today, he would have to find another way to cash in on what he knew – without getting killed. Hell, with the disappearances of Carly Tate, Jenny Ackerly, and now Mike Hallbrook, everyone was walking around looking over their shoulders.

Pushing the door to his truck open, he slid out and shut it behind him. A frown creased his brow when the front porch light didn’t come on. Usually his mom turned the light on the moment the lights from his truck flashed in the living room window.

He walked around the front of the truck and up the short walkway. Taking the steps two at a time, he paused and rapped on the front door twice. Concern tugged at him when there was no answer.

Gripping the doorknob, he pushed open the door. The house was dark. His hand slid down to the knife at his waist. He pulled it free. There was no way his mom would have left the front door unlocked if she had gone anywhere.

“Mom,” Ross called out, his eyes moving over the immaculate living room.

His hand tightened on the handle of the knife when there was no answer. At the end of the hall, he could see the soft glow of a light. He silently walked down the hallway, his footsteps muted by the worn rug.

A smothered curse escaped him when he looked in the room and saw his mother lying on the floor. Sheathing his knife, he rushed forward and knelt beside her. His fingers trembled as he gently rolled her over onto her back and felt for a pulse. He released a sigh of relief when she moaned softly.

“Hang on. I’ll call for help,” he softly ordered, pulling his cellphone out of his back pocket and dialing emergency services. “Yes, this is Ross Galloway. I’m at Margaret Galloway’s house on Main Street. I need an ambulance.”

“Ross,” Margaret murmured, her voice thin and barely audible.

Ross gripped his mother’s hand when she moved it. “Yes, I’ll stay on the line,” he said to the emergency responder. “I’m here. What happened?”

Margaret Galloway’s eyelashes slowly lifted to reveal tired eyes filled with pain. Ross could feel the weakness in her grip. She tried to smile, but instead moaned.

“Fell. I… love… you, Ross. I always have,” she murmured before closing her eyes.

Ross released her hand when he heard the siren. Rising to his feet, he hurried back down the hall and opened the front door. The next twenty minutes were a blur as he answered questions as the paramedics attended his mom.

Standing to the side, he watched as they wheeled her out to the ambulance. He automatically locked the door as he followed them. A numbness started to fill him as he slid into his truck.

His mind wandered as he followed the ambulance, falling farther behind when he had to pause at the red light. He watched it disappear around the corner and wondered when life had become so complicated. Unexpected sorrow hit him when he realized that he could lose the one thing in the world that actually mattered to him – the only person who gave a damn about him.

Asahi nodded and thanked the nurse. When he’d gone to the Underground Pub, and Ross had not shown up, he had been disappointed. It wasn’t until he had been about to leave that he had heard Dorothy, the waitress, ask a man who entered where Ross was. The man had said he’d seen an ambulance leaving Margaret Galloway’s house with Ross following behind it.

After careful consideration, he’d decided that while it might be insensitive to still attempt to talk to Ross, people tended to be more forthcoming with information when they were in stressful situations.

Though he and Ross had never met, Asahi recognized him from the photo in the office file. Ross was farther down the hall, sitting in one of the hard chairs outside one of the doors. Tired, troubled eyes looked up at him when he drew closer. Asahi motioned to the seat next to Ross. The other man shrugged in response.

“Are you a doctor?” Ross asked, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

“No, CIA,” Asahi responded.

Ross’s head jerked up and for a moment his expression was devoid of everything but surprise. Then a sardonic smile curved Ross’s lips for a brief second.

“Are you here for me or for my mom?” he asked with a neutral expression and a slightly sarcastic tone.

“Would your mother know anything about the disappearances?” Asahi asked.

Ross stared at him for a moment as if he had lost his mind, then he suddenly rose. Asahi’s gaze followed the other man as he turned in a circle, releasing a string of colorful expletives. Ross finally came to a stop, faced Asahi, and crossed his arms.

“What do you want to know?” With visible effort, Ross managed to keep himself from yelling in the small hallway connecting rooms of sick people, but his resentment was obvious. “I told Mike Hallbrook,” he continued without waiting for a response, his fingers twitching with agitation, “that I had nothing to do with Carly Tate or Jenny Ackerly’s disappearances, then he up and disappears, too. I’ll tell you the same thing I told the FBI when they came, I didn’t have anything to do with any of their disappearances!”

“I know,” Asahi calmly replied.

That clearly threw Ross for a loop. The man opened his mouth, then closed it, a frown darkening his expression. Asahi rose from his seat as Ross finally responded.

“You know? How do you know?” Ross demanded, dropping his arms to his sides.

Asahi glanced down the hall where several nurses were standing, then politely motioned to the chair next to him.

He wasn’t sure if Ross would sit at first. After several seconds of silence, Ross released another curse and walked over to sit down. Asahi sat down set to him.

“Mike Hallbrook called me several weeks after he disappeared,” Asahi began.

Ross looked at him with a hint of suspicion. “Then why are you here and why was I being grilled by the FBI about his disappearance?” he demanded in exasperation. He ran his fingers through his short hair. “Hell, everyone in town thinks I’m either a serial killer or a bad luck magnet. Well, they already thought the last, but I’m not a murderer.”

Asahi’s lips twitched at the incredulous expression on Ross’s face. “Mr. Galloway, have you ever noticed anything out of the ordinary, possibly extraterrestrial, in the area?” he asked.

The sudden flare of unease was noticeable in Ross’s face before the man turned his eyes away. Asahi’s gaze narrowed on Ross’s clenched hands.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Ross lied, then rose from his seat again and stepped away, looking up and down the hallway before his gaze turned to the closed door next to them. His mouth was tight.

Asahi rose from his seat. “I think you do. What have you seen and where?” he pressed.

“Listen…, I’m not sure….” He stopped when the door opened.

“Ross, you can go in now,” the doctor said, his gaze sweeping from Ross to Asahi and back to Ross.

There was a look that passed between the doctor and Ross, and as the doctor stepped out of the room, the brief glance he sent Asahi was brimming with suspicion.

“Thanks, Kane,” Ross mumbled, nodding to both of them before he disappeared through the door.

Asahi glanced at the name tag on the doctor’s white coat – Dr. Field. He made a mental note to do some research on the man. His thoughtful gaze moved from the doctor to the closed door and back again.

“Can I help you?” Kane asked, his jaw tight with tension.

“No, thank you. I believe I have everything I need for the moment,” Asahi quietly stated with a bow of his head.

He turned and retraced his steps down the corridor to the exit. A tingling between his shoulder blades told him that Dr. Field was watching him. He would have to reread the reports. There was more going on here than Mike Hallbrook had discovered. He was sure he had found another piece to add to the puzzle, and as his grandfather had once told him, each piece to a puzzle helped clarify the overall picture once you knew where it connected. The key was to be patient and diligent.