and did my best to encourage her to get the message to him as soon as
possible.
On my way back down, I noticed the listing for Clarissa
Easterbrook's office on a sign at the third-floor landing. I followed
the arrow to the left, away from Loutrell's office, and found the suite
number I was looking for.
A receptionist with a pierced nose and red pixie haircut was busy
juggling calls, repeating, 'City hearings department, please hold.'
After three times she exhaled loudly and looked up. 'Welcome to my
world. How can I help you?'
At least she had a sense of humor about it. I gave her my best
empathetic smile and introduced myself. She made the connection to
Clarissa's disappearance on her own. 'Oh my God. I have been going
crazy in here this morning. I didn't listen to the news this morning
and came in early, before anyone else was around. The calls started
around seven-thirty, and I was, like, What do you mean she's missing? I
had to go out to my car and listen to the news on the radio. Finally,
someone came in this morning at nine to explain the situation to me.
The phone's been ringing off the hook.'
'What kind of calls?' I asked.
'Reporters, mostly. I don't know what they expect me to tell them.
I've been reading the prepared statement I was given. Hold on a sec,
okay?' She jumped back to juggle the phones, telling each caller,
'Clarissa Easterbrook is an important member of the city community. We
hope for her speedy return, and our thoughts and prayers are with her
family at this critical time.' As she repeated the line, she handed me
a memo from Clarence Loutrell with the typed-out statement.
Once she'd gotten through the on-hold callers, she let the phone ring
unanswered while we spoke.
'Seems like a small office. You must be pretty close to her.'
'I guess. I started here last fall. I work for her and one of the
other hearings officers, Dave Olick. I'm pretty much their entire
staff. I do the phones, the secretarial work, any legal research that
comes up. I graduated last spring from Lewis and Clark.
It wasn't exactly my dream job after law school, but it's a job, at
least. I'm Nelly by the way. Nelly Giacoma.'
The Portland legal market, like legal markets everywhere, was getting
tight. I wasn't surprised that a recent law graduate might have to
clerk for an administrative law judge for a while. This one's nose
ring, lollipop hair, and what I now saw was a yin-yang symbol tattooed
on her ankle probably didn't help.
'Since I'm across the street at the courthouse, I just dropped by to
see if the people who worked with Clarissa had any thoughts on where
she might be, that kind of thing.'
Nelly shook her head slowly while she spoke. 'No, I just have no idea.
Everything was fine last week. She was working when I left at five
Friday, and she said she'd see me on Monday.'
'You can't think of anything unusual that's happened lately? Something
that might be connected somehow?'
'Well, about a month ago, some guy on one of her cases sort of blew up
at her.'
'Do you know anything about the case?' I asked.
'Not really. The guy was getting evicted, but I don't know what the
issue was.'
'If you could pull the file, I can go through it while you get some of
those calls.' I tilted my head toward her phone, which was still
ringing.
'Gee, I don't think I can just let you go through the file.'
'At least parts of it are public record.'
'But I don't think the whole thing is, especially when the case is
still pending. Besides, I don't even know what case it is. I'd have
to go through all the files and try to find it. I better check with
Judge Loutrell and get back to you.'
I picked her brain for more about the ticked-off evicted guy or for any
other cases of note, but didn't get any further. 'What about stuff
outside of work? Did you talk to Clarissa enough to know anything
about her personal life?'
'Well, I know she's married.'
Oh, yeah, they were best friends, all right.
'And how did that seem to be going?' I asked.
'Good, I guess. Clarissa's pretty private, though. Or she is with me,
at least. We're pretty much employer-employee. But she's really,
really nice. I hope she's all right. I'm sure she is, isn't she?'
I nodded and smiled, doing my best to appear unworried. When I said
goodbye, Nelly apologized that she couldn't be more helpful but assured
me she'd talk to Loutrell about going through the files. I handed her
my card, but I knew she wouldn't get back to me. Loutrell would
forward the request to Dennis Coakley, leaving me in the same spot I
was already in.
All I had to show for my out-of-court venture was a head full of frizz
and a few extra calories burned on the stairs. So much for making a
difference in the world.
While I was waiting at the crosswalk back to the courthouse, my pager
vibrated at my waist. I recognized the number as the Major Crimes Team
desk and called back on my cell.
After half a ring I heard, 'MCT. Johnson.'
'Hey, Ray. It's Samantha. I got a page.'
'I know. It was from me. We finally got hold of Susan Kerr. I'm
headed out with Walker to her house now. Can you meet us?'
'Where's the house?'
'Up in the west hills,' he said.
'Can you swing by the courthouse and get me? I took the bus in today.'
Schlepping across downtown to check out a car from the county lot would
take longer than the short ride from the courthouse up into the
hills.
'Damn, Kincaid. What are you doing riding the bus? We got to get you
livin' a little larger.'
'I ride the bus because I'm a good citizen, Raymond. I recycle too.'
'You are definitely a different kind of DA, girl. Riding the damn city
