The Last to See Her

by Courtney Evan Tate

  “Keep me posted.”

  They hung up and Meg immediately called Hawk to pitch the idea.

  “I won’t particularly need to sign in on her accounts,” Meg said. “I can just tag her, and it will show up in her feeds. I can just post and see if anyone has seen anything.”

  He shrugged. “It can’t hurt. But don’t get your hopes up. Usually, that type of thing just leads to tons of calls that lead to dead ends.”

  “Thanks for your optimism.”

  “I’m just telling you the truth... I’ll tell you the truth. No matter what.”

  “And I appreciate that.”

  She hung up and immediately looked through her phone for the picture she and Gen had taken the night she disappeared, then posted it on all her social media channels, tagging Gen.

  Hey. This is Gen’s sister, Meg. My sister and I were having a girls’ weekend in NYC, and Gen disappeared. We can’t find her. We haven’t seen or heard from her since last week. The police are involved, but I wanted to reach out to you, her loyal fans, and ask you to keep your eyes peeled. Any news would be welcome. Thank you so much.

  Replies began almost immediately, hundreds, then thousands, well into the rest of the day, as Gen’s readers were sympathetic, and some even panicked.

  Tell us what we can do, one said.

  Is there a reward? That might help.

  At first, Meg was repulsed, but then realized that the advice had been given with good intentions. Of course a reward would help—complete strangers are never motivated to do something quite so well as they are when money is involved.

  She edited the posts.

  There is a $10,000 reward for information that leads to finding my sister.

  Hawk called her almost immediately.

  “Now you’ve done it,” he said, and she could almost hear him shaking his jaded head. “Every crazy person in the city will be calling the department.”

  “And it’ll be worth it if just one of them has a valid lead,” she declared.

  “I’ll let the desk clerk know you said that,” he answered.

  But she could tell he wasn’t really upset with her. In fact, did she sense a little respect?

  She wasn’t sure.

  “You know, I’ve seen press conferences on TV before...when someone goes missing. To appeal to the kidnapper. Can we do that?”

  Hawk sighed. “We don’t know there is a kidnapper. There hasn’t been a ransom note.”

  “But you said you were treating it as suspicious,” she answered.

  “I am.”

  There was a pause. And then realization.

  “You think she might’ve been mugged and killed,” Meg said slowly. “That wouldn’t explain the ring and the note.”

  “I know,” Hawk answered. “But every avenue is still a possibility.”

  “I’m so tired of talking about the possibilities,” she replied tiredly. “I just want to find my sister.”

  “And we will.”

  “So you say.”

  They hung up, and Meg felt slightly ashamed of her snippiness, but he had to give her some latitude.

  She sat on the bed and read the influx of comments on the social media posts, and waited for some concrete answers.

  20

  Gen, Now

  Gen was curled up on the floor when she woke.

  Her legs felt tight, her hair felt dirty and there was gunk under her fingernails. She flexed her fingers around the constraints of the duct tape, craning her neck to look around.

  It was dimly lit, dirty, public. Almost like a public utility shed.

  She thought she could see a mower in the corner, some lawn implements stacked to the side.

  It was cold, but not unbearable.

  The gag in her mouth made it impossible to scream and difficult to swallow.

  She tasted blood but didn’t know why. Maybe from when she fell to the ground. She wasn’t sure.

  She fought to think of the last things she remembered.

  She had been with Meg. They had steak. Drinks. The balcony. She’d thrown her ring. Then found it. She flexed her hand again. It was gone now. Someone had hit her in the temple. Blood was dried around her nose. She could smell it.

  Her sister must be frantic, and Gen didn’t care.

  She wondered if Thad felt guilty, and she hoped he did.

  When she thought about it, this was all his fault one way or another.

  Or was she being overly harsh? Unfair?

  Probably.

  But she was the one lying on the ground, bound and gagged and dirty. This wasn’t how it was meant to be.

  She wasn’t supposed to be here.

  She tried shrieking, but no one came.

  She listened intently, and it seemed like she could hear a train in the distance. She felt the slight vibration in the ground, but that was it. She listened for anything else—children, traffic, anything.

  The only thing she could hear was birds.

  In New York City.

  21

  Gen, Then

  Gen and Thad sat side by side at the dinner party, the glasses clinking around them, the dimly lit dining room beautifully set.

  The woman next to Gen, Stella, leaned over to whisper, “Check out Amy’s new rock,” she whispered. “Anthony gave it to her when he thought he was making partner.”

  Gen peered at it. It was almost as big as hers. Too bad Anthony hadn’t actually been promoted.

  “You should never count your chickens before they’re hatched,” she whispered back to Stella. “He should’ve waited.”

  “He’s probably still paying for it,” Stella answered, with amusement in her voice.

  Gen nodded. “Probably.”

  She looked around, at the extravagant restaurant, the jewelry dripping from the attorneys’ wives, including her own, and it all seemed like such a waste.

  The caviar, the lavishness. She suddenly wished for happier times and a happier place, a simpler place, where she didn’t have to worry about her husband cheating.

  She eyed the long table. Was the woman here?

  She went from person to person, but she knew it wasn’t likely he would choose a colleague’s wife. Maybe it was a paralegal, or someone’s assistant. Or maybe even a barista. That would be even less complicated.

  She tuned out the mindless chatter and thought once again back to the other day, when her husband had fingered that woman’s face.

  It had been a caress, of that she was sure.

  The woman was a brunette. She was fairly certain.

  She was annoyed at her brain’s unwillingness to cooperate but she’d done a search online and found that shock can do that to a person. To shield the brain from too much at once. If she was patient, she might remember more details in due time. When her brain decided she could handle it.

  “Honey?” Thad asked, and from his tone, Gen could tell that someone had been speaking to her.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry. Yes?”

  Melanie, from down the table, had asked about how to publish a book.

  Of course.

  So many wanted to discuss that.

  With a patient smile, Gen talked about how hard it was to get the attention of an agent, then a publisher, and how difficult the entire process was, really.

  “Writing the book is the easy part,” she finished up.

  Melanie looked properly scared. “Then I’m sunk,” she announced. “I haven’t gotten past the third chapter yet.”

  Everyone chuckled, and attention was shifted from Gen again.

  She excused herself and slipped off to the restroom. When she was washing her hands and reapplying her lipstick, she was joined by Regina, another wife.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” Regina told her enviously. “
You never gain weight.”

  “I haven’t had any children,” Gen answered. “That makes a difference.”

  “True,” Regina said ruefully. “Little wretches, they ruined my boobs for good.” She laughed, though, and glanced at Gen in the mirror. “You have any plans to have them?”

  Gen shook her head. “That ship has probably sailed, and it’s fine.”

  Regina washed her hands. “As much as Thad works, that’s probably for the best. I saw him at the office last week at eleven p.m. I told Sam that it was crazy—that he needed to get home. I mean, working hard is great, but he needs to remember he has a life outside of work.”

  Gen automatically agreed, then paused.

  “You go to the office?”

  “Sometimes. I usually take Sam lunch or dinner when he’s too busy to get it himself, and the other night I went with him when he forgot a file. That’s when I saw Thad working so late.”

  “Was he alone?” Gen asked, before she could stop herself.

  Regina stared at her. “I think so. Why?”

  “No reason,” Gen mumbled. But Regina wasn’t convinced.

  “Girl, spill it. What’s going on?”

  Having had three glasses of wine, Gen’s judgment wasn’t its best, so she wound up on the settee in the ladies’ room, telling Regina all of her suspicions. Worse, Regina didn’t soothe her fears.

  “They always say that he’s a flirt,” she offered helpfully. “To get things done around the office, he’ll charm the girls into doing things his way. Maybe he took it too far. I know he loves you, though.”

  “If you love someone, you don’t cheat on them,” Gen pointed out.

  Regina shook her head, like she was talking to a child. “Oh, girl. The real world isn’t always like that. Just call him on it, and move on.”

  Gen stared at her. “Are you high? No. That is not acceptable. I deserve more respect than that.”

  “Of course you do,” Regina soothed her. “But your husband is a partner now. All of your struggles from earlier are over. You are set for life. Don’t let some girl from the mail room mess it up.”

  Gen froze. “A girl from the mail room? That’s oddly specific.”

  Regina put a hand over her mouth. “Damn it. I didn’t mean to... I mean, I don’t know for sure. It’s just gossip...” She stood up. “I’m sorry, Gen. Forget I said anything.”

  As if that were possible.

  Gen made her way woodenly back to the table, and she felt like everyone was laughing at her. They all knew about the girl from the mail room, and she’d been little naive Gen...writing alone at home, completely oblivious.

  She fumed all through dinner, and by the time they were in the cab for the ride home, she was boiling over.

  “Who is the mail girl?” she turned to him and demanded.

  She’d had four glasses of wine by this point and couldn’t feel her lips. Thad’s lips pressed into a line.

  “You’re drunk. And not making sense.”

  “Who. Is. The. Mail. Girl?” she asked. “Does that make enough sense for you?”

  She saw the cabbie glance back at them and should’ve felt humiliated but didn’t.

  “Regina told me,” she blurted. “Everyone in your office knows about it. What did you do? How long did it last?”

  Thad sighed.

  “The mail girl’s name is Christy, and there was nothing going on. She helped me with a big mailing and spent a few hours in the evening in my office, and that set the rumor mills going. You know how the office is. It’s all gossip, Gen. And why would you listen to Regina? You know she’s the most gossipy of them all.”

  He wasn’t wrong about that.

  Gen stared at her husband, and he looked straight into her eyes. If he was lying, he was damn good at it. But then again, he was a lawyer.

  “On my honor,” he said now.

  Did he have any left? Gen was immediately aghast at her own thoughts, and then couldn’t help but wonder...when did she start feeling that way about her own husband?

  For hours, after they went to bed, she thought about that. She came to realize that she’d lost respect for Thad when he decided to become an accident attorney, preying upon people in some of their most difficult moments. It seemed like a field of leeches and it didn’t have honor.

  She’d lost respect for her husband and hadn’t even realized it.

  22

  Thad, Now

  Thad grabbed his bag off the luggage carousel and strode down the airport passage. Coming to New York City to sort this situation out was the last thing he wanted to be doing.

  He hailed a cab and ducked inside, his lip curling at the smell of body odor permeated in the seats.

  He’d barely had time to settle in when his phone rang with a familiar number.

  “Hey,” he answered, his entire demeanor shifting, his face almost gentle for a moment.

  “Thad,” a female voice replied. “You said you would call this morning.”

  “Oh, man. I’m sorry. Do you remember when I said I had to go to New York City for a few days? I rushed out so quickly that I completely forgot. But let’s talk now. I have a few minutes. How’s your trip?”

  He sat and intently listened to the female chatter on the other end, his fingers drumming on his knee as he did.

  “Well,” he finally replied. “It sounds like you’ve been really busy.”

  “You have no idea,” she answered. “We’ve been doing all kinds of activities. I wish you called when you said you would. I was waiting for it.”

  She pouted, and he was patient. “Jody, I call when I can. You’ll be back from your trip in a few days. I’ll see you when I get back.”

  She paused. “When will that be?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “Soon, hopefully.”

  “Well, call first,” she said. “I’m busy.”

  Thad rolled his eyes and sighed, accustomed to her pouts. “Okay. I’ll call first. But it will be soon. There’s no reason to be upset.”

  “I’m not,” she protested, but she was.

  He knew and she knew it.

  She paused for a beat and then continued, “Genevieve isn’t worth all this fuss.”

  Thad bit his lip. He didn’t know what he thought anymore.

  Gen had seemed to go off the deep end this past year, and even though he was used to her dramatic, even at times mercurial, moods, it had grown thin. He had enough to deal with without his wife adding to his stress.

  In all honesty, she hadn’t known about everything, but still.

  He fully believed that spouses should support their partner, not add to the worry.

  “Jody, you know I don’t like to talk about her with you.”

  He imagined her nodding her head when she sighed. “I know. I’ll see you soon.”

  He hung up, and waited for the cab to finish weaving through traffic and finally pull up to the curb at the hotel. A bellboy rushed out to unload his bag. Thad tipped him handsomely, as he always did. Gen said he was condescending, but he wasn’t. Just because he didn’t chat with everyone he came in contact with didn’t mean that he was rude.

  Gen, at least in the past year or so, had found fault with everything that he did, and in fact, everything that he was. She felt impossible to please.

  But he was the asshole. At least, that’s what he was told.

  He took the elevator to the third floor and found his room.

  He considered calling Meg to tell her he’d arrived and had checked into the hotel, but then thought better of it. He wasn’t on the list of her favorite people presently, so he’d wait for her to call him.

  Once upon a time, they’d been so close.

  And then there was that one time...but, of course, that was then. This was now.

  Everything had changed.

/>   He picked up the phone and called the detective to let him know that he’d arrived in the city. Voice mail picked up, so he left a message.

  Then he reclined on the bed.

  Was this room like Gen’s had been? He stared at the gray ceiling, the magnificent view. What had she been thinking that night? Had she been upset?

  He knew his wife better than anyone. Probably even better than Meg did.

  Imagining her last moments before she disappeared wasn’t too much of a stretch.

  She’d been out with Meg, so they’d had a few drinks. They’d probably drunk texted their mother to annoy her, and then they’d gone back to the hotel, this hotel, to hang out and relax. Meg had probably tried talking Gen into going shopping earlier in the night. He was sure he’d been a hot topic of conversation, the verbal crucifixion of Thad Thibault.

  He closed his eyes to take a short nap.

  He should be used to the verbal lashings.

  He was an attorney, after all.

  23

  Gen, Now

  Gen squirmed against the duct tape.

  Her arms had lost feeling long ago, and she wondered if that could cause permanent damage. Would she ever be able to feel her fingers again?

  The person holding her here hadn’t been in for almost a full day, and Gen was thirsty.

  She couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman, young or old. She couldn’t tell if she knew them. It. She’d decided to refer to the person as an it, since a real human being wouldn’t be able to do this.

  She wondered who was looking for her.

  Meg, certainly. Was Thad?

  Doubtful.

  He was probably holed up with one of his whores and hadn’t thought twice about her.

  She should have been used to that by now.

  24

  Gen, Then

  Gen spun her wedding ring around and around on her finger. She’d never actually liked it despite the size of the diamond, and now, today, it seemed more of an anchor than a promise. She took it off.

  “Who is it?” she whispered aloud, staring out the window.

  Yesterday, after a few hours of troubled sleep, she’d woken to Thad in her bed. He was asleep, too, his face relaxed in slumber. Her dreams had been filled with him and another woman, a faceless woman. And her gut... It was screaming at her to listen. She’d hovered above him with a pillow in her hands, watching him inhale and exhale. Her anger was beyond rage, and her hands had shaken.