“No one his friends told us about. Certainly no one who ever came forward.”

“At his age, a lot of kids gamble too much. A lot more experiment with drugs and become addicted. Suppose he was in debt? How would your father and mother have reacted to that?”

I found myself reluctant to answer. Then I reminded myself that these were questions my mother and father had undoubtedly been asked ten years ago. I wondered if they had been evasive. “My father would have been furious,” I admitted. “He had no use for people who threw away money. My mother has a private income from an inheritance. If Mack needed money he could have gotten it from her, and she wouldn’t have told Dad.”

“All right. Ms. MacKenzie, I’m going to be perfectly honest with you. I don’t think we have a crime here, so we can’t treat your brother’s disappearance as a crime. You can’t imagine how many people walk out of their lives every day. They’re stressed. They can’t cope, or even worse, they don’t want to cope anymore. Your brother calls you regularly-”

“Once a year,” I interrupted.

“Which is still regularly. You tell him you’re going to track him down, and he responds immediately. ‘Leave me alone’ is his message to you. I know it sounds rough, but my advice is to make yourself realize that Mack is where he wants to be, and the most connection he wants to have with you and your mother is that one Mother’s Day call. Do the three of you a favor. Respect his wishes.”

He stood up. Clearly our interview was over. Clearly I should not waste the time of the police department any longer. I picked up the note and as I did, reread the message. “UNCLE DEVON, TELL CAROLYN SHE MUST NOT LOOK FOR ME.”

“You’ve been very-honest, Detective Barrott,” I said, substituting the word “honest” for “helpful.” I didn’t think he had been helpful in the least. “I promise I won’t bother you anymore.”