Suspicious Minds

The first psychic approached Brandy Shipp at the candlelight prayer vigil the night after she learned that her mother, Summer Shipp, had disappeared.

Brandy can't recall with certainty what the woman looked like or what she was wearing. She claimed to have lived near Summer in Kansas City's Valentine neighborhood and said they'd met a couple of times before.

"I have powers," the woman said to Brandy. That's as much as Brandy says she can remember -- the entire first month of searching for her mother was a swirl of emotion and confusion, she says.

"We had to go find a house with white chipped paint on the door. Time was running short," Brandy says, recalling the advice the psychic gave her.

Brandy was so desperate for any progress on the search for her mother that she briefly considered pursuing the lead. But there was so little to go on, she ultimately decided to ignore the advice.

Other psychics -- dozens, in fact -- have offered their help. And so have friends. Brandy's house was filled with people eager to help find her mother, who had vanished without a trace on December 8. And when you're in a situation like that, it's hard to turn down offers of aid, no matter where they come from.

A few days after the search began, Brandy was approached by a 45-year-old private investigator named John Underhill. He wasn't the only private eye who asked to get involved, but something about him, Brandy says, put her at ease. She gives him credit for keeping her composed and focused through the hardest five months of her life.

Underhill is a former cop who says the investigating business gets slow around the holidays, which is why he had time on his hands.

"He showed us all his credentials and said he'd like to help," Brandy says. "I had good vibes, or we wouldn't have used him."

Underhill and Brandy's friends have helped her keep Summer's disappearance in the news. They hope the publicity will bring a break in the case. Brandy has appeared on The Montel Williams Showand on Nancy Grace's CNN program. And, according to a company that offered to sell Brandy video clips, her mother has been featured on television more than 600 times.

The Independence police, meanwhile, seem snakebit. They admit that they've been frustrated by the case, and the department is already under pressure to solve another high-profile disappearance, the mystery of what Dan Porter may have done with his missing children, Sam and Lindsay. Porter awaits sentencing for custodial interference after taking the children away from his estranged wife, Tina, and he continues to refuse to tell police the fate of his children. Like Brandy, Tina Porter has also sought publicity, making appearances on Dr. Phil, for example, hoping that enough attention will bring in useful leads to police.

When a disappearance is as baffling as Summer Shipp's, any help can seem promising.

Even when it produces questionable results.

Underhill's investigation, for instance, is increasingly galvanizing Brandy's cadre of friends and supporters with the claim that the most likely suspect in Summer Shipp's disappearance has been identified. They've followed the man they suspect, monitored his activities and dug up details of his past -- and they're frustrated that the Independence police aren't doing more with their suggestions.

Some of their actions haven't amused Independence police, who say they, too, are interested in the man but aren't as convinced of his involvement. But they are sure that some of Brandy's posse are going about things the wrong way.

One of Brandy's friends was arrested recently for allegedly harassing four people, including a suspect's mother, over the phone. Underhill, meanwhile, has filed a complaint of his own; he says he was called a liar by a police major.

Still, despite the friction over the case, Independence police Capt. Travis Forbes says the department isn't opposed to outside help from private investigators.

"We'd be stupid to sit here and say we can solve this case without any community help," Forbes says.

Brandy Shipp first realized that something was wrongat lunchtime on Friday, December 10, when her father called.

For the second day, Summer Shipp had failed to show up at a grocery store where she did surveys of customers, one of several market-research jobs that kept her busy. When her boss found that her home answering machine was full, he called Summer's ex-husband, John Shipp, Brandy's father. Summer and John Shipp divorced more than a decade ago, but they have remained on good terms. John then called his daughter.

Brandy went to her mother's house in midtown. She could see that Summer's car wasn't parked out back and that her aged terrier mix, Alex, had not been let out in days. That neglect was a troubling sign.

"I knew something was wrong," Brandy says. "Her dog is her world."

Brandy had last talked to her mother on Monday, four days earlier. The two were very close, friends say, but Brandy had worked two double shifts since that Monday, supplementing her administrative job with bartending shifts at the downtown Marriott.