I would tuck him into bed and he'd ask me every night, you know, did you find Bethany?

And I'd say, nobody, I didn't find her today, but I'm going to find her.

Little boys have a way of believing their fathers can do anything.

Of course Glenn Klingkars little boy had no idea how or why his question, the question,

had come to torment his father.

So the beginning of the whole strange business didn't seem so important that first night,

May 4th, 2003.

It was Sunday evening, sitting at home with a family and get the phone call.

That's my sergeant.

He basically says, oh, we've got a missing girl down a bootlegger's cove and I'm like,

okay.

Easy, please.

Just about like any other missing persons report and there are God knows lots of those

in Anchorage, Alaska.

And pull my wife, I'll be right back, she's probably just out with her friends.

Klingkars is a police detective.

Experience a long since taught him that most often people who are reported missing have

chosen to disappear.

How could he know driving through town to check on this missing young woman?

That she was about to tear open an old wound.

Never fully healed, even after 22 years.

That was something that I can't make any amends for, I can't fix.

...