I got back to the office and signed for the boxes of evidence. Two boxes. Not much when you think about it. Two boxes that was all that was left of a person's life. I lifted off the lid of the first box and eighteen year old dust wafted into my office where it sought out places to alight that had been cleaned only slightly more recently.
     I decided that I wanted to get to know as much about Jamie as I could. It seemed like it would be a good idea to try to get inside the head of the one who went 'poof' and was gone, rather than chase competing theories as to who wanted to make her go 'poof'. The cops always looked at everything as if it were a crime, which is good, it's their job. Sometimes they run into something that is not a crime and they end up driving themselves up a wall trying to figure out a motive. Motive is incidental and only really necessary to help juries and TV audiences understand.
     I found the file I was looking for and eased back into my chair. I put my feet on the desk and had the desk bottle cocked and loaded. No reason to unload a few rounds, yet, but the day was young.
     Jamie Brewer, at the time of her disappearance was a twenty-five year old,  working in the Human Resources department at a place called Lincoln L-ectronics. She was working on an MBA from the U., and she had started making her way up the ladder, pretty well. They had listed her income, and after adjusting it for 1997 dollars, it seemed like she was doing pretty well. Not enough to turn heads, but enough to make people go, 'hmm, nice gig'.
     I pulled the canvass photo. Big smile; bright, blue eyes; hair that was a bit long and a bit big, she hadn't been quite ready to let the look go. She was pretty. I used to wonder why the photos that were used when searching for missing persons were always of this sort. Happy, smiling, vivacious, a picture taken at a happy moment, or on a day that could make the short lists of Best Days of My Life lists. I knew, now, why people did it. They gave the picture that reflected the missing person at their best, hoping that somehow a charm would get imprinted on the picture and that would help call the person home. Pictures of the person when they were angry, lonely and afraid would be much more helpful, since that's usually the state of mind of who was being sought. But you don't take pictures of those moments.
     I stared at the photo a bit longer. I could see her in HR. She had the look of someone who could interview a prospective employee, put them at ease, and tease out those vital bits of information that people try so had to keep to themselves, but really cant help but share. Why they left their last job, really. What attracted you to this firm, really? Are you really as good as your resume claims you are.
     I don't know what I was basing that on. She was attractive, slim without being skinny, clear, fresh complexion. The clothes in the picture didn't tell me too much. Slacks and blouse, colors complimentary, glass of wine in hand at some gathering that looked more celebratory than obligatory.
     I dug deeper into the file. She had graduated in 1990 from Lincoln East. Good student, but not outstanding. Involved in several clubs and sports. Future Business Leaders of America, French Club, Young Republicans, volleyball, track & field, Fellowship of Christian Athletes. Participation in all of them, but not really outstanding in any of them, except for the FBLA. In that one, she had served as treasurer, vice-president and then, in her senior year, president of the club.
     Moving on to her University days, the pattern continued. Business major, A's in all her business classes, but she either didn't work as hard or didn't care as much about the other classes that make one a well-rounded individual in a liberal arts setting. B's and a few C's in the Arts & Science classes.  She had joined the Tri-Delts and I couldn't help but think of the old Saturday Night Live bit, 'Delta Delta Delta and I help ya help ya help ya?'
     1994 rolled around and Jamie graduated, B.A. in Business Admin. She got the gig at Lincoln L-ectronics and went back to the U. to get her MBA in 1996. The other key moment of 'This Is Her Life' happened in '94, as well, when she married Rick Brewer.
     I sat back for a moment before delving into Rick's file. Nothing in Jamie's background seemed to jump out at me. Good, steady gig. No criminal complaints. Nothing in the financials jumped out at me. I was just getting ready to open up the folder when the phone rang. It was Lloyd.
     "Lloyd, my man, what's going on?"
     "I don't want to seem like I'm bragging, but was I right, or was I right?"
     "About what?", I asked, knowing quite well, what he was talking about.
     "The game, man. The game. I just about nailed it," he said, almost animatedly, which for Lloyd was close to gibbering insanely.
    "What are you talking about?", I asked skeptically. "You were off by a total of 16 points. Yeah, they covered the spread, and you were right about Ameer, but you were way off on the kicking game."
     Lloyd scoffed, "I was right about Armstrong rushing for one and passing for two touchdowns."
     But you said Ameer would score twice, and one of Tommy's TD passes would be to Kenny Bell."
     "Fine," he snapped back. "I guess I wasn't as close as I thought."
     "Settle down, man, I was just flipping you some crap." Sometimes Lloyd got a little too much steam built up. "Tell me about your overall impressions. Good game, bad game, what?"
     "Probably the most complete season opener since Bo got here. The Offense played well, the defense played well, the special teams played well...enough."
     "Yeah, Kenny muffing that punt and still no return game is a bit bothersome."
     "The defense, with Randy Gregory out with his knee, did very well, after Flat's opening drive."
     "That opening drive didn't really bother me. Offense running plays the defense had never seen, with no tendencies to go on. Let's just say that I was more impressed with how the defense adjusted, more than I was concerned about that first drive."
     "A couple of turnovers would have been nice. Roach dropped a sure pick-six, and there was that one fumble that no-one could get a handle on. Speaking of turnovers, though, did you know that this was the first game, for Nebraska, without a turnover since the 2012 opener?"
     "I had heard that," I said. "Tommy tried to, twice, and one turned out to be one of the coolest receptions I've ever seen."
     "Westerkamp's behind-the-back grab," Lloyd asked, almost enthusiastically. "The pass, that was nearly intercepted by the defender, the ball deflected down and behind him, on a trajectory behind Westerkamp, when he reached behind himself, with both hands, stopped the balls momentum with his right hand, secured it with his left, slightly above butt level, and still had the presence of mind to double-tap his feet before going out of bounds. That one?"
     "Sounds about right," I said. "Hey, I know you called for something other than to talk football. What's up?"
     "Oh, yeah, that," he said, as if remembering he needed to take some books back to the library. "You know, your missing person, Jamie Brewer?"
    "Yeah. What about her?"
    "I think I know her."