“What is it then?” Alan asks. “An Amber Alert might find him faster.”
Shaking his head, Jim tells him, “We don’t know what’s happened here. To issue an Amber Alert, we have to know something about who the kid’s with—usually a description of the person and their vehicle. We don’t have anything like that.”
Alan tries to hide the disappointment in his voice. “So now what?”
Jim tightens the arm around Alan, bringing him closer. “Crack his phone, go through his contacts. Get in touch with his girlfriend, whatever her name is. Find out when she heard from him last, what they did last night, something along those lines.”
“How long is that going to take?” Alan asks.
Jim shrugs again. “Don’t know. We’ll process the prints, too, just in case they aren’t his. Or yours. But I really think once we find her, we’ll probably find him, too.”
Alan isn’t so sure. Still…then it hits him. “I might not know her last name, but I know where she lives.”