"I thought you might need it. I brought the logbook," said Dr. Huston, opening it with steady, confident hands. He quickly flipped through a few pages until he stopped at one in particular. He pointed to a phone number and showed it to Larry. "Here it is. Her name is Dina Morales, she's 21 years old, and lives at this address."
"I'll handle it," said Sergeant Doakes, immediately jotting down the details to start working on the lead.
Without missing a beat, Dr. Huston continued, "About two weeks ago, she was due for an orthodontic adjustment, but she never showed up. I tried calling her, but her phone was off. I tried again last week, but it was no use. There was no way to reach her."
Larry nodded and handed the book to Ángel, who promptly instructed one of the investigators to locate the civil registry office to verify the address.
"I need to know more," Larry said, studying the doctor closely. "Anything you can remember. Did you have any meaningful conversations? Did she talk about her family, her job, whether she had a boyfriend...? Any detail could help."
Dr. Huston looked down at his hands, smiled briefly, then looked Larry in the eyes.
"I can tell you're a doctor too. You can always tell by someone's hands…" He paused, sighed, and continued, "She asked me for braces and explained her family situation. It was quite moving. She said her mother abandoned her when she was a child, and she lives only with her father, a simple man who barely finished high school thanks to help from neighbors."
He paused again before adding, "Some patients who live near her told me she hadn't been coming lately because she'd met a guy. I assumed it was her boyfriend… and maybe she was focused on her new relationship. It made sense, especially considering how much she cared about improving her smile."
"What about her job?" Larry asked seriously, following his usual pattern to analyze the man and rule him out as a suspect.
"She told me she worked as a warehouse manager at a forklift factory. From what I know, salaries there range from two to three thousand a month. Just enough to scrape by."
Ángel listened intently, his eyes lighting up bit by bit. The information perfectly matched the psychological profile Larry had created days earlier. Still, he felt a surge of anger. That lead could've been followed over a week ago.
"Damn it…" Ángel muttered through gritted teeth.
Dr. Huston looked at him warily, beginning to worry that his cooperation might get him in trouble with the police.
"What do you all think?" the doctor asked, a hint of unease in his voice.
That's when everyone suddenly realized something crucial: Dr. Huston was too transparent. There wasn't a trace of guilt in his behavior. He couldn't be the killer.
Shortly after, the investigator who had left with the logbook returned and handed two printed sheets to Sergeant Doakes. Doakes glanced at them and passed them to Larry.
"It's her…"
In the photo, Dina had a calm expression. Her face was ordinary, but there was a youthful glimmer in her eyes—something striking, even in a basic ID picture. Achieving that was no small feat.
Larry showed the image to Dr. Huston.
"Can you confirm? Is this her?"
The doctor looked closely and nodded firmly. "Yes. She's even prettier in person. She reminds me a lot of my youngest daughter."
Doakes immediately stood, shook the doctor's hand before his presence could further complicate things for the detectives, and then ordered an officer to take his formal statement—respectfully—and return him to his clinic without delay. They didn't want to risk damaging his reputation or career.
As he said this, the sergeant shot a piercing look at Debra. With a resigned sigh, she quickly left the room.
"We've identified the victim. We can go to her house. Maybe there are more clues…" said Larry, rubbing his temples.
Doakes, well accustomed to Larry's deductive prowess, wasn't surprised. He began coordinating a team to head to the location immediately.
Ángel decided to leave his car at the criminal investigation team's garage. He knew he had to stick with the group for the rest of the way.
…
Half an hour later, the convoy reached the southeastern part of the city, accompanied by local police.
Since they had already contacted the community committee in the area, it wasn't hard for them to find Dina's house.
Upon seeing the house, Larry immediately frowned.
In this day and age, and especially in Miami, he never expected people to still be living in such conditions.
The walls were visibly deteriorated, the roof bore signs of multiple amateur repairs, and it was obvious there was no electricity.
The structure was much shorter than the neighboring homes.
The so-called "yard" was just a makeshift fence of old sticks stuck in the ground.
Even so, the place was relatively tidy, and though the garden had weeds, there were signs of life.
The deceased had been dead for over twenty days, and her father's whereabouts were unknown.
When they pushed open the gate, one community member stepped forward and entered the house directly.
"There's no one inside!"
"Dina's father isn't mentally well. For the past month, he's been eating at his brother's house. Last week, his brother's wife hit him a couple of times," added another member.
"When he's anxious, he gets sick, and most people don't even know where he hides."
Sergeant Doakes wasted no time. "We'll find him."
Larry and the others remained in the area. A stocky man had just gotten dressed and was approaching the house with a flashlight. Ángel joined him in inspecting the place more thoroughly.
Larry circled around to one of the windows, then turned to the oldest committee member with them and asked:
"What was Dina like as a person?"
"Dina was a very efficient worker and always spoke her mind. She was very protective of her father. I remember when she was about ten, she got into a fight with her aunt because the woman badmouthed him," the elder replied, nostalgia in his voice.
"She was a strong girl…"
Ángel chimed in. "Does she have more relatives in this community?"
"Dina's family is small. Her father only has one brother and a brother-in-law who's six years younger. The brother-in-law is decent, but pretty cowardly, and his wife is extremely domineering."
"That's why Dina avoided asking them for help unless absolutely necessary. Even when her mother ran away, she never bothered that side of the family. Only in the past two years did her father grow closer to his brother, and the two families started interacting more."
"Any grudges or disputes?"
The committee member looked surprised by the question and stared at Larry for a moment.
"Enemies? What enemies could they have? The neighbors were always kind to Dina's family... Oh, by the way, I heard her aunt introduced her to a boyfriend, a technician who works at a nearby factory."
"And why would her aunt introduce her to someone if they weren't close?" Larry asked, intrigued.
"That was years ago. I guess it makes more sense now."
Larry's focus sharpened. The deceased's boyfriend had never shown up, and no one had come looking for her after she went missing for so long.
Did no one care?
Or… did someone already know what had happened?
"Where's her uncle's house?"
The committee member pointed to a yellow two-story building north of Dina's home. "That yellow building is her uncle's place."
Max and the forensic team finished their inspection and came out of the room.
Masuka approached Larry and motioned to speak privately. "The house is a mess... Someone came looking for something very specific."
"Dina's closet was completely rummaged through. Then everything was tossed back in haphazardly. It doesn't look like something her dad would've done."
Larry frowned. "You're saying whoever searched didn't worry about being caught… because they knew Dina couldn't accuse them?"
"Exactly!" Masuka confirmed.
Larry stepped into the room. The red brick floor showed years of wear, and there were clear footprints. The house was definitely old.
Ángel and the elderly committee member were flipping through a photo album and a diary in the main room, but it was clear they hadn't found anything relevant.
The eastern room was Dina's. As soon as Larry entered, he saw a large wardrobe wide open. The clothes inside were a jumbled mess, tossed together carelessly.
The desk drawer, on the northern side of the room, was also open with all its contents strewn across the floor.
Who would come to ransack such a miserable house?
What were they looking for?
"Money…" Larry muttered to himself.