On a hunch, Pete decided to search all the databases available to him with different names that were variations of Marla Winters. After a week of searching he finally hit on a possibility, Marla Summers. The main reason he felt this might be a good possibility was because the information required a security clearance to access it on the FBI database, the same type of clearance that was required to access Alonso Fortuna’s information. Suddenly a very bad, sinking feeling struck Pete like a fist to the stomach. What if the fake husband, Brett Noble, was really this character Alonso Fortuna? That would mean that they had him in custody and let him slip through their fingers. It didn’t matter that his fingerprints didn’t match any on record. That could be fixed easily if the FBI was motivated to do so. Pete sat at his desk for a long time trying to think of all the possibilities. Finally he started a list that he intended to show Captain Perkins when she returned to the office.
After two days of waiting for the Captain to return to work, Pete decided to take matters into his own hands. He started working his way up the chain of command within the police department. All his attempts to talk to the chain of command went unanswered, totally ignored, as if he’d never called or stopped by their offices. Pete paced the hallways of the police station, trying to figure out what was going on. Where was Captain Perkins? Was Marla all right? What was the FBI trying to hide and why? They had to have a motivation and ninety nine percent of the time it was to cover someone’s ass. If Captain Perkins was missing who was Dillon reporting to now? What information did the Captain have that they didn’t want her sharing with anyone else?
Pete decided he needed to look through the captain’s office for some answers. He walked casually by her door and gave the door knob a brief jiggle. Locked. That was pretty standard operating procedure. There was no way he would be able to pick the lock during regular business hours. There would be too many witnesses and not enough time. He’d have to come back in the wee hours of the morning, when there was practically no one around but the janitor.
By three o’clock in the morning Pete found himself inside the office and using a small pen light to try and pick the locks on the Captain’s desk drawers. Each drawer had its own separate lock and Pete swore to himself as he picked the first lock. He rummaged through but only found some necessary office supplies along with some of her personal items. After finding nothing of significance in six of the seven drawers, he had almost given up hope. The bottom right hand drawer, however, contained a gold mine of information. What worried him most was the fact that the Captains gun was still in the drawer. That meant that wherever she was he had to assume she was unarmed. That also told him that she felt safe going wherever she had to go. It suddenly occurred to him that his letter to Marla wasn’t anywhere in her office. Did something happen to her on the way to visit Marla? It was a very good possibility. She had mentioned that she was going to visit Marla the same day he gave her the letter. That was the last conversation he’d had with her. He also found in the drawer the original file about Marla’s case, and it wasn’t the same one he’d been given when he started on this case. He grabbed the file and decided to grab his copy and compare them in the privacy of his own home. He had no idea who he could trust, so he decided he’d trust no one for now. He also decided he needed to go through Dillon’s desk as well. He wanted to see if Dillon had a picture of Brett Noble or Alonso Fortuna hidden somewhere in the dark recesses of his desk. Dillon was a slob and Pete considered grabbing a pair of gloves before going through the desk. He needed to protect himself from any communicable diseases that may live in there. A shiver ran down his spine and he decided to grab the gloves. He didn’t want to leave any fingerprints anyway.
Pete smelled the stench of decaying food as he approached Dillon’s desk. Now he understood why his desk was set apart from everyone else’s, it stunk to high heaven. Pete gagged as he got closer and closer to the desk. He encountered again the locked desk drawers. What? Was Dillon afraid someone might steal his Twinkies? Pete was totally grossed out as he picked the one and only lock on Dillon’s desk. When he opened the center drawer he found a clump of empty candy wrappers on top of some files. When he pulled out the files he couldn’t believe his eyes. There was yet another file on Marla, a file on Brett Noble and a file on Alonso Fortuna. There were jelly and chocolate stains on the jackets of the files as Pete jammed them into the briefcase he’d brought along. He’d decided to bring everything home with him and review it there. Since no one was answering his calls from inside the department he didn’t bother calling in and telling them that he wouldn’t be in tomorrow. He hoped he’d have at least a few days before anyone discovered the missing files. To all outward appearances no one seemed to care that the Captain was missing, so maybe they wouldn’t miss a few harmless files.