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"Yes." Hope had dawned brighter in his eyes. "And we've got an address for the house he lived in at Beechworth. Apparently, it's just outside the town itself."
"No indication as to the current owners and whether it's occupied?" Quinn asked.
"The current owners have no relationship to Young, apparently. He's tried ringing the listed number, but there's no answer."
"Young wouldn't be up there yet, anyway." After all, he'd only taken Liander little more than an hour ago. "Besides, there's no guarantee that is where he's going."
"We'd better hope it is, because otherwise Liander's a dead man."
"Give him more credit than that," Quinn said softly. "He's a fighter, and he has something worth fighting for. You."
Rhoan gave a soft, derisive laugh. "He might have decided otherwise after my stupid behavior tonight."
"Well, with any sort of luck, you'll get the chance to fix that." I gave him a dark look and added, "And you had better."
His smile was wan, but there nevertheless. "It's like that old cliche says - you never know what you've got until you almost lose it."
"Just make sure you tell Liander that when we finally rescue him."
"I intend to, trust me." He blew out a breath that didn't seem to do a whole lot to ease the tension still evident in his body.
I resisted the urge to say "you'd better," and asked, "I don't suppose Jack found the files for Young's disappearance?"
Rhoan snorted softly. "Apparently it's regular procedure for regional police offices to purge computer files after twenty years. They have a hard-copy record, but it's still being found."
"Just as well we can go straight to the source, then." I dragged my phone out of my pocket and pressed the button to ring the Directorate. "Has Jack got any other information about the house Young used to live in?"
"He's going through the council records for house approvals. He'll let us know if he finds site or floor plans."
"What can I do for you, Riley?" Sal said.
I shoved the phone to my ear, and said, "I need to be put through to a Jerry Mayberry. He used to be the local police officer up in Beechworth. He's retired, but apparently he's still living up there."
"Hang on, and I'll see what I can do." She put me on hold, and tinny elevator music blasted me. I winced and shifted the phone away from my ear.
"How is the cop going to help us?" Rhoan asked.
I glanced around at him. "He was the cop on duty when Aron Young disappeared. He might be able to tell us a little more than what was reported in the papers."
Sal came back online. "Okay, I found an address and a phone number. You want me to patch you through now?"
"Yes. Thanks, Sal."
"Hang on, then." I went back on hold for a second, then there was a click, and the phone was ringing.
And ringing.
Come on, come on, I thought, then glanced at the clock and realized I was actually ringing at an ungodly hour. The poor man was probably tucked up nice and warm in his bed.
Eventually a gruff voice said, "Hello?"
"Is this former sergeant Jerry Mayberry, from the Beechworth Police Station?"
"That would be me."
"Mr. Mayberry, it's Riley Jenson, from the Directorate. We're investigating several murders that appear to be linked to an old case of yours, and I was wondering if you could help me with some details."
"I'll try, but my memory is not as sharp as it used to be." He hesitated. "The Directorate, you say? Which section?"
