"And?" I prodded.

  "Eighteen Shannons were born in CoCo County that year," he repeated.

  "But how many were born to a mother named Victoria?"

  He raised his pointer finger and declared, "Aha, that's the right question! Exactly three."

  It was looking like the case would be simpler than I had anticipated. "What do you know about the Victorias?"

  "One is Victoria Stone, married to Victor Stone. They currently have three children and still live in Concord. The second Victoria lists the father's name as Davy Green. I checked the records: they were married but are now divorced. This Victoria Green, now Victoria Sable, lives in Walnut Creek. And the third…"

  "And the third?"

  "The third is Victoria Hightower, mother of Shannon Hightower. No father listed. I did a search for Victoria Hightower in CoCo County and found nothing."

  Of the three Victorias, I would guess that Victoria Hightower was our Victoria. If she had been married when Shannon was born, she probably would've shared that fact. Based on Victoria's past, it was possible she didn't know who the father was.

  "Did you do a wider search to see where she might be?"

  "As you can imagine, there are more than a few Victoria Hightowers, not just in CoCo County but all around California," he replied.

  "What about Shannon Hightower?"

  "That I can help you with" Vincent smiled. "Shannon Hightower, daughter of Victoria Hightower, currently lives in Pleasanton with her husband. There are a few other Shannon Hightowers in the area, but only one born thirty-seven years ago."

  "Sounds like you may have found Victoria's daughter. Do you have any photos of Shannon? DMV records, perhaps?"

  "Even better." Vincent stepped inside and set his laptop down on my desk. With a few taps, he pulled up a DMV photo of Shannon Hightower, now known as Shannon Bernstein. I quickly grabbed a photograph of Victoria, placing it next to Shannon's for comparison.

  Vincent pointed at Shannon's hairline. "They both have a widow's peak. And that nose—they have the same nose. Plus, the blonde hair…"

  Turning to Vincent, a chill went down my body. "You found Victoria's daughter."

  "That's my guess. I also got an address and a phone number."

  I glanced at my shiny watch and said, "I'm meeting Hirsch to discuss some new cold cases."

  "Yeah? You excited to be back with the squad?" Vincent's tone was encouraging, but there was a slight falter, a hint that maybe he felt left out.

  "It's not the whole squad. I'm just part-time, maybe 10-15 hours a week. Jayda and Ross are just part-time too. Hirsch wants to start with some easy closures, hoping it'll justify more funding," I replied, trying to ease his concerns. I didn't want him to feel like the odd one out.

  "I understand. I'm happy for you, and for Hirsch."

  "Thanks. I should get going."

  "Okay," he said quietly. Something was off. Vincent would normally be doing some sort of dance or a silly jig.

  "Everything okay, Vincent?"

  "Yeah, I'm just tired, that's all."

  I wondered if that was the only reason. Was he upset about not being invited to the new cold case squad? Or was it something else? I remembered his upcoming wedding. Maybe the stress was getting to him. "How's Amanda?"

  His eyes lit up at the mention of her name. "She's doing well. The wedding's only a few months away, and she's got some family stuff going on. It's been a little rough."

  I nodded, trying to convey understanding. "You'll get through this. Let me know if you need any help or just to talk."

  "Thanks, Martina." He left without saying much more. I felt for the guy. Family situations could be tricky.

  Speaking of family, my mother had been nagging me recently about not talking to my brothers. Not that she spoke to them often herself. But she did keep in touch, ensuring they were okay.

  In a family full of addicts, my mother and I were recovering alcoholics. From what I understood, my brothers still struggled with various substances. We were never close. For my daughter's sake, I preferred not having that kind of influence around her. Sometimes, it was easier to pretend they didn't exist. It might sound cold, but they'd had run-ins with the law and associated with some really dangerous people. It was best to maintain distance.

  As I walked out, I called Hirsch. "Hey, Martina, are you on your way?" he said.

  "Would you mind if we pushed the meeting an hour? I got a lead on my missing person. We think we found her daughter."

  "Go. Our cases won't get any colder."

  "Okay, thanks, Hirsch."

  Parked in front of the Bernstein residence in Pleasanton, I had made the decision to just show up. I wanted an authentic response and since, according to employment history, Shannon worked from home, she should be there. And my vibe from the Stanzels made me wary of letting information flow too freely. Taking a deep breath, I hurried up to the front door and knocked.

  The door opened a moment later. The woman from the DMV photo stood in front of me. Sandy blonde hair, brown eyes, and that telling widow's peak just like Victoria. "Hi, I'm Martina Monroe, a private investigator. Are you Shannon?"

  She looked puzzled. "Yes. I'm Shannon."

  My mind raced, wondering if the Stanzels had gotten to her already. "I was hired to find a woman. And I have reason to believe you're the woman's daughter. Her name is Victoria."

  Unflinching she said, "That sounds right," still staring at me with a hint of suspicion.

  "Are you in contact with your mother?"

  "No. I haven't seen her since I was two years old. I was raised by my grandmother."

  Victoria is missing. "Do you know the circumstances around her disappearance?"

  "Grandma said she was an addict and had been in the hospital when they last spoke. She feared my mother had crossed paths with the wrong person—someone responsible for her hospitalization."

  I pulled out the photograph of Victoria and Nancy. "Is this her?"

  She accepted the picture. Recognition flashed in Shannon's eyes. "Yes, that's her. My mother."

  We found Victoria's daughter.

  She cocked her head, questioning, "Who's looking for her?"

  "A friend from your mother's past. She had the same troubled life as Victoria but managed to turn things around. Now that's she's older and has a family of her own, she's trying to find Victoria. She didn't know much about her, except that she had a daughter from Concord, but that was all she knew."

  Shannon shook her head, eyes filling with concern. "Have you found her?"

  "No. Until today, I didn't even have her last name. But I'm committed to finding her."

  "I fear she might be dead."

  I hesitated before asking, "Have you ever tried to find her?"

  "My grandma filed a missing persons report, but the police didn't find anything—or do anything to find her, according to Grandma. A few years ago, I hired a private investigator before my wedding, but he found nothing. Initially, I thought you were working with him. That someone else is looking for her is surprising."

  A cell phone rang, and she said, "Oh, that's my work phone. Give me one sec."

  Standing in the doorway, I waited and hoped she had more information about her mother that could help us find Victoria. Shannon returned. "Sorry about that. It's a busy Monday."

  "I'm sorry to have intruded. I was excited to meet you. Maybe we can set up a time to discuss your mother's case."

  "I'll have to check my schedule. I'm a marketing consultant and up to my eyeballs in work. I have your card. I'll call. I will. I really would like to know the truth."

  Me too. "That would be great. In the meantime, if you could share the PI's contact, and your grandmother's, it might help our search."

  "I'll get you the PI's info but let me talk to my grandma first. She's not in good health."

  "Understood."

  She retreated into the house, and I waited for all of thirty seconds before she handed me the PI's card. I thanked her, and she promised to be in touch. This was certainly a turn of events—hopefully one that would lead us to Victoria.

  14

  MARTINA

  After checking in with the reception desk at the CoCo County Sheriff's Department, I waited for Hirsch to come and get me. It wasn't like I could waltz in and act like I owned the place—anymore. But perhaps that would change once they officially brought me on as part-time help. The timing of Victoria's case and working with Hirsch again was truly serendipitous. Victoria's missing persons report had been filed in CoCo County because her permanent address was at her mother's, and I needed to review it. It was unfortunate I didn't get to talk much with Shannon, but surely, we would get another chance soon enough.

  A few moments later, Hirsch, Jayda, and Ross approached with wide smiles. "You must be the welcoming committee," I remarked.

  Ross offered a playful curtsy. "Welcome back, Martina, our favorite private investigator."

  "Don't let Vincent hear you say that," I retorted with a grin.

  "He's our second favorite," Jayda quipped.

  After a round of heartfelt embraces, I faced Hirsch. "All right, boss, lead the way."

  He simply smirked as we headed toward the new mini Cold Case Squad headquarters. The air was filled with an electrifying mixture of excitement and nostalgia. Being reunited with the three of them brought back a flood of memories. Our regular meetings with Dr. Scribner, Kiki from forensics, and the rest of the squad.

  Sheriff Baldwin had hinted, after our last case had overlapped, that he envisioned a collaborative future between Drakos Monroe Security & Investigations and the CoCo County Sheriff's Department. It had taken eight months for that to happen, but I thought maybe, after this part-time stint with Hirsch and the team, there'd be more opportunities in the future.

  Inside the modest conference room—a stark contrast to our previous Cold Case Squad room adorned with whiteboards and expansive tables—I was almost too restless to sit. Yet, we all found ourselves seated around a circular table, each of us seemingly content.

  "So, Hirsch," I started. "What have you got in store for us?"

  "Well, first of all, thank you, all three of you, for agreeing to work with me on cold cases again. As you all know, funding was always a challenge. But I see this as a victory for us and hope for a future expansion."

  Jayda chimed in. "So, we tackle the easy cases first? The ones that might just need some DNA analysis or benefit from recent technological advancements in forensics?"

  "That's precisely what I had in mind," Hirsch affirmed. "I'm aware that you, Martina, are working on another case for your firm. Jayda and Ross have active cases too. We need to establish some ground rules—how much time we can all commit, how frequently we should meet. Essentially, it's up to us four to chart the way forward."

  I said, "Sounds good. And, yes, I do have another case, but it's connected to CoCo County. A cold case."

  Hirsch turned his attention toward me, as if surprised. "Yep, I've just confirmed the full name of my missing person." Ross and Jayda shot me some puzzled expressions. They obviously had no clue what I was referring to, so I explained the case and the connection to CoCo County.

  "So, either way you were coming back here?" Ross asked, half teasing.

  "That's right. Because I want to see that missing persons report. The daughter insinuated the police didn't put much effort into the search. To this team, it wouldn't shock any of us to hear if zero resources were spent looking for a missing sex worker. But any details I can find about Victoria will help me retrace her final steps and find her. We already have her connected to a very prominent family."

  Hirsch leaned in. "Did you speak to them?"

  "I did."

  Ross interjected, "Who's the family?"

  With their questions, I realized how much I missed having a whole team to discuss the details of a case. "The Stanzel family. They're the elite of San Francisco. My client insists that Anthony Stanzel, the son of the patriarch, was their pimp thirty-five years ago. He beat them, and supplied them with drugs to keep them compliant—the whole nine yards."

  "Seriously?" Jayda exclaimed, clearly exasperated.

  Nodding, I said, "I met with Anthony. He wasn't thrilled about my questions regarding his past. He lied, claiming he never saw the girls in the photo—my client and her friend, Victoria Hightower, the person I'm searching for."

  Ross nodded thoughtfully, leaning back. "You think her disappearance might be linked to this 'Richie Rich' from San Francisco, who was once her pimp?"

  "Exactly. I need to see the missing persons report, which could provide details about Victoria from that time. I also intend to question her mother, though her daughter wants to speak to her first. She mentioned her mother isn't in good health."

  Jayda cocked her head, studying me. "Martina, you've got yourself another big old crazy case. Sounds like it will keep you pretty busy. Can you really take on more right now? I mean, I heard about…"

  I felt Jayda's hand on my arm. She was the one who had set me up with Wilder, her old college friend. From the look she gave me, she knew Wilder and I were history. "Time will tell. But as of right now, it's keeping me occupied, which is good. But I've worked with prominent families before. They dislike their skeletons being dragged out into the open. If Victoria knows something damaging about them, they'll do almost anything to keep it hidden. I've been discreet. I didn't tell Anthony Stanzel who hired me. I don't want him targeting my client."

  "Do you believe the Stanzels would retaliate against your client?" Hirsch asked, concern evident in his voice.

  "I wouldn't put it past them. Remember the first case we worked together, Hirsch?"

  He nodded in acknowledgment.

  "My next step is to pull up the missing persons report and go from there. I only spoke with the daughter briefly, but she said Victoria was hospitalized before she disappeared. I need to find which hospital and then pray someone there will remember her from thirty-five years ago."

  Ross chuckled lightly. "Sounds like a quintessential Martina case."

  Hirsch agreed with a head bob. "All right, Martina, you'll look for the missing persons report for Victoria Hightower. It can be one of our first official cases. The rest of us will look for some easier cases to close."

  "Sounds like a great plan, boss."

  A thought struck me. If I was already being hired through my firm to work the Victoria Hightower case, it was a bonus for the CoCo County Sheriff's Department. If I didn't bill Victoria's case to CoCo County, that meant there was potentially another part-time person who could join the Cold Case Squad. "You know, I'm not working Victoria's case alone. One of my investigators helped me find her daughter. He's pretty good."

  Hirsch smiled.

  Did he understand what I was implying? "That's right. Vincent did the research, tracking down all the girls named Shannon born thirty-seven years ago, matching them up with a mother named Victoria. He found all the matches and gave me an address for the daughter. That's how I knew who she was. I'm already working on the case for Drakos Monroe, which means I don't need to bill CoCo County, which means…"

  Hirsch said, "We have an opening for a part-time consultant."

  "I have one I could recommend."

  Hirsch nodded. "I must admit I miss his sunny disposition."

  With that, everyone knew who we were referring to. Vincent was a constant source of humor and levity during our investigations. He was diligent and intelligent but carried a playful spirit that brightened every case. "I'll talk to him about it."

  "Let's find that missing persons case. And a few others to close out."

  We didn't need further instruction and strutted toward the file room. Inside, it felt like déjà vu from when I first started working with the Cold Case Squad. Towers of banker's boxes loomed, filled with unsolved mysteries. Now, I was on a mission to locate one from thirty-five years ago—Victoria Hightower.

  All four of us scoured the room, sifting through files, choosing the initial batch for the new cold case team. After ninety minutes of relentless searching, I exclaimed, "Ha! I found it!" I began to read aloud, "Victoria Hightower missing…" I paused, finishing the text silently before announcing, "I know where I'm going next."

  "Where?" Hirsch asked.

  "The missing persons report says she was hospitalized at San Francisco General. She called her mother from the hospital the day before she was reported missing. She told her mom she would be home that day but never arrived. When her mother called the hospital, they said she'd been discharged and didn't know where she was."

  The team nodded, like they understood it was a solid lead. I continued, "The report mentions she had spoken to the police while there. So, I'll need to liaise with SFPD to see if there are any police reports from the time Victoria went missing and was hospitalized. That could help locate her, or at least shed light on why someone might've wanted her gone."

  Hirsch responded, "So, you have your hands full."

  "Definitely. It would surely help if someone from law enforcement accompanied me to the SFPD to gather info," I hinted, casting a suggestive glance at Hirsch, a former SFPD homicide detective.

  Hirsch's blue eyes twinkled. "My afternoon's pretty open."

  It was exactly the response I hoped for. As a PI, I could go undercover for information, but a badge often yielded better results, especially in hospitals and with police departments. More so when the person flashing the badge used to be one of their own. We devised a strategy and exited the CoCo County Sheriff's Department. Hirsch and I were partnering on a case once again. In that moment, all of my being knew we would learn what had happened to Victoria Hightower.

  15

  MARTINA

  With my partner by my side for the first time in almost a year, I felt reassured we would get the information we needed with minimal pushback. Procedures from thirty-five years ago might have been laxer than they were now, but obtaining medical records without a warrant was impossible. Luckily, I had Hirsch and crew who could secure one if necessary. However, our real interest wasn't in the medical records. We hoped to find someone who'd been on staff at the time—perhaps an old nurse or a doctor who was still employed. It was a stretch, but we had to try.

 

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