“There’s coffee and toast in the kitchen,” the woman told Nora. She smiled at her. “It’s ‘to go,’ “ she added. “The shelter closes to clients at 7:30. We open again at eight pm. There’s a list in your bag of places offering free meals. There is also a list of our sister shelters if this one happens to be full. The brochure has state agencies, hours of operation, and locations to get you any other help you might need.” The woman reached out and grasped her arm, giving a quick squeeze before she moved along, offering the same spiel to the woman behind her.
She blinked her tears back quickly.
This is good. She had something now, a place to start. She opened the brochure as she waited in the line. She noted some agencies she could find in town, and then other locations around the state if she chose to get out of Brownington.
When it was her turn for the bathroom, she quickly did her business and then stood in front of the mirror. She washed her hands with the hand soap before taking out her tiny personal soap and washing her face. She looked into the mirror as she splashed the water in her face, surprised somehow, to see the same girl staring back at her.
She’d spent the night in a homeless shelter, and her eyes were still brown. She had a total of four personal effects, and her hair was still curly. She had dark circles beneath her eyes, but it was still her. Not letting herself dwell on her circumstances anymore, she carefully sealed her effects into the bag and left the bathroom. She followed the signs to the kitchen, accepting the to-go cup of coffee and toast with tiny packets of jam and butter. As she was getting ready to leave, she was handed a little backpack, the kind kids wore to soccer practice and fit a pair of cleats. It read, Brownington Temporary Shelter, on it.
She nearly laughed at the embarrassment she felt, but she was too grateful to have the bag. She tucked her toiletries inside, said “thank you” to the worker, and put the bag on her back before leaving the shelter along with everyone else.
It was funny. They all took off in different directions. No one lingered. It was not unlike a college dorm where everyone who had an eight a.m. class poured out of their dorms at the same time and trekked to their respective buildings.
Nora was the only one who hesitated. She tried to remember her plan from last night, but now, in the bright morning light, standing in the heart of her old neighborhood, everything she was leaving behind suddenly overwhelmed her.
Everyone, her mind supplied.
But this was better for them, she argued with herself.
Seok didn’t trust her, didn’t even like her. If she stayed, she would to tear the guys’ friendship apart, without them, there was nothing to keep her here. She told herself these things over and over, and made her feet move in the direction of the police station.
Stick to your plan. No matter how much you hate it.
***
She had to buzz into the police station.
“Nora Leslie to see Detective Vance,” she told the tiny bored voice who asked her why she was there.
The doors unlocked with a snick. She opened it warily, looking around for a receptionist, but Detective Vance was waiting for her.
“Come with me,” he directed and began walking away.
She followed him. “I want to sign for my things. That’s all.”
He squinted over his shoulder at her. “I already spoke to your lawyer this morning. They’re back here.”
The way he said, “lawyer,” made Nora think what he really meant to say was, “asshole lawyer,” or, “pain in the ass lawyer.”
It also made her think of Ryan. Not the asshole part, obviously. She could still hear his voice in her head, telling her she was innocent. In that moment, she missed him so much it was a physical pain in her chest.
Vance led her to an elevator, pushing the button before turning to face her. “Rough night?” He eyed her backpack. Nora met his stare, refusing to look away. He chuckled and got onto the elevator.
“Not quite sure how you’re going to carry all your things. Want to run outside and see if there’s a shopping cart?”
She crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow. “You’re supposed to help people. Not be a colossal…” She stopped, unsure about whether calling a cop a jerk could get her arrested.
“Call me jaded,” Vance countered. “Or maybe I have a dark sense of humor.”
“Or a bad one.”
He laughed. “I can tell you’re feeling better.”
The elevator opened, saving her from having to reply. He led her past room after room until they came to a cordoned off section of the building. A uniformed officer sat behind a steel grate reading a newspaper. He looked up as they came closer, nodding once at Vance, and then gave Nora a once-over. “Detective.”
“I need to collect the belongings of Honora Leslie from the Merchant shooting.”
The officer’s eyes narrowed. “That you?”
She nodded, and the officer reached under his desk, pulling out a sheaf of papers and attaching them to a clipboard. “Fill this out. I’ll go find your things.”
Nora took the clipboard from the man, reading over the information and began filling it out. She felt Vance move closer, and lean over her shoulder to watch her write.
“So it didn’t work out with your law student, huh? Kick you out?”
She bit her lip. “Ryan is a wonderful guy, but it was time for me to leave, find a job, and support myself.”
“So why did you leave employment blank. In fact…” Vance reached over and tipped the clipboard so he could better read her answers. “… you’ve left most of this blank. Phone, address, emergency contact. Pretty sad.”
With a little more force than necessary, she handed him the clipboard. “Why don’t you read the rest? I have nothing to hide. Any questions? Ask them. But be a human when you do.”
“I’m a cop,” he countered, stepping closer to her.
Nora refused to step away. Your backbone. Remember you have one.
“Detective?” the officer behind the desk sounded nervous.
“Take a break, Sergeant.”
“Detective Vance, I ca—.”
Vance fixed the Sergeant with a glare. With a look of apology sent in her direction, the man went into the bowels of the evidence locker.
“When was the last time you saw Reid?” The detective began right away. For a moment, Nora wished Ryan was with her, but then she forced herself to answer. She had to do this without Ryan. She wouldn’t have him again.
“It would have been before January. I was assigned the dormitories then, so I didn’t see Reid, not even in passing.”
“Come on, Honora. You never talked to him? I saw the manifesto. Reid thought he was saving those kids from something. He thought he was saving you from something.”
“Saving them by killing them,” she answered quietly. “He’d changed. The Reid who wrote a manifesto was not the Reid I grew up with. He was a protector. He’d never believe death was the alternative to hardship.”
Something changed in Vance’s eyes as she spoke. He scanned the basement, gesturing toward two chairs against the wall. He sat, patting the seat, and waited for Nora. “What do you think changed?”
She cracked her knuckles before biting on a fingernail. “What do you know about foster care, Detective?”
His eyes widened minutely in surprise before his lids dropped low. He answered her slowly, “I deal more on the parent end of things. I’ve seen some… really horrible things parents do to their kids.”
“You’ve seen my case history.” It wasn't really a question.
He actually looked away. “Yeah.”
“And you used it against me.”
“To be fair, at the time I believed you had something to do with a mass shooting.”
“But you don’t anymore?” A tiny bud of hope bloomed in her heart.
Vance met her gaze. His eyes were still hard and cold. “I don’t know. It’s not as clear as it once was. Going back to your first question, about foster care? I
don’t know a lot about the system.”
She leaned against the arm of the chair and then sucked in a breath when she pushed against her side. “We age out. At eighteen, we’re given a voucher, and a case worker to help us transition, but we’re on our own. Sink or swim.”
“You think Reid sank?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Until he did this, I would have said he was a success. He’d gotten into college, despite …” Smiling to herself, she remembered Reid in high school. “Questionable academics. He was working on a doctorate, he had a home. Now, consider me, Detective.”
He raised an eyebrow, leaving her to blush, but she continued on nonetheless. Backbone.
“I was third in my class in high school, and the most I’ve managed is a housekeeping job, a sandwich-making job, and a rundown apartment. The closest I got to continuing education was a substitute teaching gig. Right now? I own a sandwich baggie with four toiletries and a backpack announcing I’m homeless. For the kids who age out, there are more me’s than there are Reid’s.”
“What about the shooting, Nora? If he was the success story, why did he feel it was all so hopeless and society damned?”
“Miss? Here are your things,” a voice interrupted.
Startled, Nora saw the Sergeant was holding a stuffed garbage bag.
“I need to go through the items with you when you’re finished with the Detective.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “As far as your question, Detective, I don’t know, but you found the heart of the problem, right there, and I think you’ve finally identified the question you need answered, even if I can’t answer it for you.”
Detective Vance shook his head. He stood, hands on hips, staring down at the floor. “All right, Nora.”
Nora stood as well, walking over to the Sergeant who began taking items out of the bag and placing them on the counter.
A weight lifted off her shoulders with each item: identification, wallet, debit card, social security card, jeans, shirts, jacket, journal, books. It was a strange collection of items, but when viewed through a police lens, it made sense. They were looking for motive, DNA, a connection to Reid. A lopsided pile of less than twenty items was all she had left of the first twenty years of her life.
“Here.” Vance appeared next to her, holding a backpack. He began to gather the items, folding them and putting them inside the bag. With his packing skills, he managed to get everything inside. As he slid her journal into the front pouch, he held out a hand to her. Nora stared at it in confusion. He nodded toward the pack given to her at the shelter this morning, and she took it off, handing it to him. He grabbed a large leather purse sitting at his feet. “We get a lot of drunk college girls. They tend to throw their purses at us, and then they never come back for them. This was going for auction anyway.”
The tears she'd been holding back started to slip down her face. “Thanks,” she whispered.
“We have a locker room, with a shower,” he continued quietly. “Take your stuff. You can shower and change before you head out, okay?”
Nora nodded, not trusting her voice. With a gentle hand on her back, he led her to the women’s locker room. His eyes, when she met them again, were kinder and held a hint of guilt.
“Take as long as you need,” he told her. “Elevator is there. I’ll meet you upstairs. Second floor.”
Nora nodded, and hitching her bag on her shoulder, went inside.
thirty
Vance, Meet Everyone
Cai unlocked the door to the youth center. No one would be there this early. Aislinn would come in a little bit later to do paperwork, and then head out again for grocery shopping.
But he knew if he opened the center, he’d get a flood of kids in on their way to school. He started the coffee pot, and opened the fridge. Even if he didn’t have much, he could send them off to school or wherever with some coffee and—he closed the fridge and scanned the pantry—Pop Tarts.
“I’m walking to the shelter.” Matisse drummed the fingers of both hands on the metal island before pushing away and walking out the door.
Cai and Seok watched him leave, neither trying to stop him. He noticed the way Seok rocked back and forth on his heels, his anxiousness to follow Matisse clear. “I’ll send you after him in a minute, but I could use your help.”
He hadn’t missed how Seok was still a little lost. He wasn’t used to seeing his friend indecisive, worried. The Seok he knew never asked for permission; he did what he wanted.
“Hey! Why are you open?”
The first kids had arrived. Cai greeted them while calling out instructions to Seok. “You’re in charge of the to-go coffees,” he said. “Chat with them, see if they saw her.”
Seok cleared his throat, and took the stack of paper cups Cai offered him. He handed the first cup to a boy, and asked him, “Where did you stay last night?”
“Fuck off,” the kid said, grabbing the coffee with enough strength it sloshed over the side.
He rolled his eyes. “Sorry, Henry. We’re searching for a friend of ours, and we think she might have slept out.”
“Oh.” He handed Seok a paper towel. “Sorry man, habit.”
“It’s fine,” Seok said, accepting the towel and wiping away the coffee.
“What’s she look like? I was at the UU last night; there were only a few there.”
“Small, dark skin, curly hair.” Seok held his hands out from his head to demonstrate what he meant. “Her name is Nora.”
“The Nora from last night?” Henry took a sip of his coffee and winced. “I thought she worked here?”
Seok shook his head. “No, she’s a friend who has been staying with us, but she left last night after a misunderstanding. We didn’t realize until this morning.”
“Sorry. She wasn’t there.” Henry shrugged and walked away.
Cai handed out package after package of Pop Tarts, listening with one ear to Seok’s conversation, while checking in with his own line of kids. “You met Nora?” he asked person after person. “You see her out last night?”
Each of them said they hadn’t, and as Seok began filling the machine for a fourth round of coffee, Cai could see he was crawling out of his skin. He was, too, but Cai’d looked for runaways before. He had to balance the urgency of finding her with the patience it took to ask the right questions.
“I saw her.”
Cai dropped the package he was holding onto the floor. The girl in front of him reached down and picked it up, opening one side and sliding out a pastry.
“Last night.” She took a bite. “We were roommates at the shelter.”
Seok dropped the sleeve of cups and took off. The girl sighed. “Shelter closes at 7:30. She’ll be gone before he gets there.”
“Jolene, right?” Cai asked, nodding to her to step out of line.
She nodded. She was one of their older kids, probably only a year or so younger than Nora.
“Was she okay? Did you talk to her?”
“Calm down, Cai.” she said. “She was fine. I think. I was pretty out of it when she got there. I was awake before her, but I saw her get the first-timer bag and a cup of coffee before she headed out.”
“Did you see which direction she went?”
She nodded. “I did. I thought it was weird, because I thought she worked here. I didn’t realize she was one of us.”
“Where did she go?” Cai put the box on the island and stepped away. The line of kids was shorter, and only a handful of people stood around drinking their coffee.
“South end, toward the Battery and the police station.”
His eyes closed in relief. “Thank God.”
“I’m headed out in a bit, if I see her, you want me to tell her you’re looking for her?”
“Tell her to go home.” He nodded. “Tell her we’re sorry, but not to leave.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What’d you do? You didn’t hurt her, did you? Because I’m not sending some poor girl back to you if you’re going to mess w
ith her.”
“No.” He was fully aware of how he was muddying the personal/professional waters. “We’re roommates and she heard something that sounded like we didn’t want her to stay with us.”
“Oh.” She was still suspicious. “Well, if I see her, I’ll tell her.”
“Thanks again, Jolene.”
The girl gave him a small wave and selected an extra package of pastries before heading out. Cai pulled out his phone, sending a group text to the rest of the guys, and then waited anxiously for the last kid to leave. When he finally did, Cai locked up and jogged to his car. His phone vibrated and he pulled it out.
Headed to the Battery, stopping at station on the way. It was from Matisse.
Almost immediately another message came in from Ryan. Was just there. No sign of Nora.
Matisse responded quickly. I’m checking again. Meet us there.
He debated driving, and finally decided to risk the time it took to park. If she’d gone any distance, they’d want the car to get to her as quickly as possible.
When he got to the police station, he checked his watch; it was nearly nine.
God. For the first time since leaving his family, the name slipped from Cai’s lips in a prayer and not a curse.
God, please let me find her. Please let her be okay.
A wall in his heart disintegrated as the prayer left him. He’d built the wall brick by brick his entire life to protect himself from the God his father preached. The one who demanded insane sacrifices. The one who only wanted Cai’s pain, and not his love.
But thinking about Nora and God together made him feel lighter. He wasn’t religious anymore, and he knew he didn’t have it in him to be that way again. He cared about Nora, and his caring spilled out of his heart and pushed away the bricks like they’d never been there to begin with. He could breathe again.
Nora. It happened again. A lightness. Hope. It was Nora. It was because of her a sense of rightness filled him, and it happened just by thinking of her.
Finding Honor (The Searchers Book 1) Page 19