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he said.
    Cathy noticed that he was talking a bit fast, as if he were trying to make it seem like nothing was wrong. He explained that she couldn’t call him because his battery was running low, and he was going to pull it out of his phone so it didn’t completely drain before he reached the mall and needed to call her. Knowing that Cathy had been acting highly codependent and worried about him lately—which is typical for any mother, sibling or spouse of any addict or alcoholic, especially when mental-health issues are involved—John added, “I didn’t want you to start freaking out.”
    Cathy had informed him earlier that she’d gone through Verizon to put a global positioning system (GPS) tracking device on his phone, so if he was going someplace north of Escondido, near his druggie friends, she would know about it. However, this device was nothing like the GPS ankle bracelet he’d had to wear for his last year of parole. All he had to do to thwart her watchdog efforts was shut off the phone.
    As Cathy sat eating tortilla chips at the Mexican restaurant, where they’d agreed to meet, she worried that the police might try to question John about the missing girl, given that he was a registered sex offender. But knowing where he’d been on Friday and Saturday, she wasn’t worried that he was involved, not computing that Chelsea had actually gone missing on Thursday—the night he’d come home with the snake and that crazy expression.
    He’s going to be fine because we’ll be able to show where he was during that period of time.
    But as John grew later and later, she was once again left to wonder and worry where he was and what he was doing.
    Is he sneaking off to do drugs again?
    She called one of John’s close friends to see if he’d asked for a ride to the mall, but the friend said he hadn’t seen John.
    â€œI’m worried because he’s really kooky right now,” Cathy said.
    Cathy called John’s girlfriend, Jariah, who had been in rehab since November, but was supposed to come to the condo with her three-year-old son that afternoon for a visit.
    â€œHave you talked with John? Are you still going to be able to come over?” Cathy asked. “John was supposed to meet me for lunch and he’s not here. Did he say anything to you about going anywhere else?”
    â€œNo,” Jariah said.
    Cathy had left about twenty-five messages for John that day, but hadn’t gotten a single response. “Where are you? I’m waiting for you,” she said, trying to sound more concerned than accusatory so as not to anger him. By that point, she was thinking she should take him back to the county mental hospital that night.
    Around 1:30 P.M. , Cathy finally gave up and drove home. On her way, she heard the helicopters overhead, still searching for Chelsea, she presumed.
    By the time Jariah arrived at her condo around two-thirty, Cathy was beside herself.
    â€œHave you heard from John?”
    â€œNo,” Jariah said.
    â€œThis is weird,” they both said. “This is really weird.”

Chapter 5
    Two men knocked on Cathy’s front door just after 3:00 P.M. Dressed in street clothes, they identified themselves as law enforcement. In fact, they were members of the Fugitive Task Force, which is made up of sheriff’s detectives and U.S. Marshals.
    â€œDoes John Gardner live here?”
    â€œNo,” Cathy said.
    â€œIs this where his mom lives?”
    â€œYes,” she said, thinking they must have mistaken her for his sister.
    â€œIs he here?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDo you know where he is?”
    â€œNo,” she said. “What is this regarding?”
    The officers explained that they were there about the missing girl, and because John was a registered sex offender. “We need to talk to him. Can we come in?”
    Cathy thought they just wanted to question him, as she’d anticipated