Keith Roysdon

kroysdon@muncie.gannett.com

Brianna DiBattiste%27s family is offering a %241%2C000 reward for information that leads to her return.

If you have information on DiBattiste%2C call %28765%29 789-6151 or %28765%29 768-6061.





ALBANY — Julie Hunt's voice catches in her throat when she's asked where she believes her daughter is. When she answers, the single word is barely audible.

"Lost," Hunt whispers.

It's warm and even sunny at times in the front yard of Hunt's home in Albany on this Monday morning, but Hunt's thoughts are dark and filled with worry that her daughter, Brianna Marie DiBattiste, will never make her way home, that the 25-year-old, a young woman with long dark hair, almond eyes and a tattoo reading "TORN" on her shoulder, is dead or gravely ill.

Brianna DiBattiste hasn't been seen since June 16.

A small army of people is looking for DiBattiste. The search has taken investigators — representing Indiana State Police as well as the Albany, Dunkirk and Jay County police departments — around Jay and Delaware counties but also to Fort Wayne and, through contacts with police there, Dayton, Ohio.

Friends, family members and acquaintances have posted "missing" fliers in downtown Muncie, run-down storefronts in Dunkirk — where DiBattiste grew up — and many points between. Yard signs seeking information — and urging people to "pray and believe" — have sprouted up around Albany.

And a "Finding Brianna" page on Facebook, created on June 23, had 3,918 members as of Monday afternoon. Postings range from the practical — offers to distribute fliers — to the heartfelt but obvious, including people wondering whether anyone has thought to check her car or cellphone.

"She knows so many people," Hunt said of her daughter. Some of them, Hunt added, DiBattiste met when she was in jail for drug-related convictions. "Those are not friends," Hunt said.

It is her daughter's past — and those shadowy associates — that Hunt worries might have contributed to her disappearance.

"I feel like somebody has taken her," Hunt said Monday. "Maybe my baby girl overdosed and someone is afraid to tell me.

"She knows too much about the drug world," Hunt said tearfully. "My baby girl is an addict ... a heroin addict. And I'm afraid people won't want to help."

Shannon Henry, the police chief of Albany and a neighbor of Hunt's, and Dane Mumbower, the police chief of Dunkirk, emphasize that their departments have focused on little else but the missing woman in recent weeks.

"Brianna did have a past," Henry told The Star Press. "She's still a human being and somebody's daughter. We're not looking at drug issues."

"Somebody, somewhere, in my opinion, knows something," Mumbower said. "It's important for that person to know, Brianna is not in trouble. They can call us anonymously."

'I'll prove it to you'

Julie Hunt last saw her daughter on June 16, when the two ran into each other at a small Marathon station in Dunkirk. DiBattiste was with friends — people Hunt characterized as less-than-reputable — and buying a bag of potato chips.

Hunt said she criticized her daughter for her provocative clothing. The young woman told her mother about a threatening text message she had received from a woman related to a man DiBattiste had dated at some point. Neither mother nor daughter thought the threat was a great concern.

Hunt said she was most frustrated that her daughter had prematurely checked herself out of an Indianapolis substance abuse rehab program just a few days before. She said she warned her daughter about her companions and their effect on her life, telling her that she wouldn't be able to avoid drug use with such friends.

"She said, 'I'll prove it to you,'" Hunt recalled.

Sitting in her front yard Monday, talking to The Star Press, Hunt cried and rocked back in her chair while talking about her fears, then smiled as she talked about how much her daughter loves children. Her mood darkened again when she noted that DiBattiste miscarried while in jail.

'It's very scary'

DiBattiste lived with her father, Anthony, in Dunkirk after her parents' divorce. Beginning a few days after his daughter disappeared and several times since, Anthony DiBattiste has posted on Facebook pleas for information about her disappearance.

"I pray someone lets us know," he wrote on June 26.

In Dunkirk, renowned as "the glass capital of the world" because of the longtime bottle plant there, fliers with Brianna DiBattiste's face hang in windows, on bulletin boards and at the police station.

Residents of the town where the young woman grew up know her or at least know of her and her disappearance.

"It's very scary," said Brittany Franklin, stopping on a downtown sidewalk outside an empty storefront. "I hope and pray she's all right."

With about 2,300 residents, Dunkirk seems quiet and empty compared to Albany, a town of about the same size but one with bustling streets and busy restaurants and stores.

To keep herself occupied more than anything else, Hunt and a handful of friends walked through Dunkirk in the past few days, checking vacant houses.

Where they found doors unlocked, they went inside, finding beer cans and syringes.

"There are so many abandoned houses," Hunt said. "It's sad to see all those broken dreams."

Checking on leads

The investigation has taken officers to Muncie and the Red Carpet Inn on South Madison Street. Henry sent three officers to the motel on June 30 after receiving an anonymous tip that DiBattiste was there.

"Officers spoke with several people and searched some of the rooms," Henry said. "We were unable to locate her and could not find anyone who had seen her."

Police did find a dead body at the motel that day, but Henry said the deceased person was "an older subject with medical issues."

Henry and Mumbower, together at the Albany police station on Monday, said they've checked out every lead they have so far, interviewing as many as a dozen people in addition to checking with out-of-town contacts.

"We're not stopping," Mumbower said.

The police chiefs couldn't say they had an indication of foul play in DiBattiste's disappearance, nor could they say they had a suspect. They also had no indication that the young woman doesn't want to be found.

Hunt lives across the street from Henry in Albany and said she's constantly fighting the urge to call the police chief and ask whether he's heard anything new about her daughter.

Hunt made it to the end of the interview Monday before breaking down. She was comforted afterward by her husband, Tim, and her mother, Joyce Williams.

"Brianna, God, I want you home," Hunt said through sobs. "It doesn't matter where you've been or what you've been doing. Brianna, please come home."

Call Star Press reporter Keith Roysdon at (765) 213-5828. Follow him on Twitter: @keithroysdon.