There were a lot more names with check marks next to them than asterisks.
“I wonder if that’s my aunt,” I said, pointing to the name Grace.
“It could be. She was only mentioned once, and the context made it a little hard to tell. Ashleigh did have a girl in her grade named Grace she would hang out with sometimes, but I didn’t remember hearing much about her once they graduated. So... I’m not sure. You can take a look if you want, in the journal. I should’ve written down page numbers.”
I picked up the journal and thumbed through it. “I do feel a little weird going through her journal,” I said. “Even if what we’re doing is trying to find her.”
“You’re telling me. It felt really weird. I sure as hell am not someone who makes invasion of privacy a hobby. But... what other choice do we have, really? To not read it and put it away in a drawer somewhere? And...” He paused. “There was something kind of comforting about just seeing her handwriting again, getting to read her words. At the same time, though, it makes me want to start looking for her again. Not that I ever stopped—or that’s at least what I’m telling myself.” He looked a little uncomfortable all of a sudden, like the idea of him not actively looking for Ashleigh all these years made him a horrible person.
“You can’t feel bad about any of this,” I said. “I mean, I know that you did, and might still do, but you can’t just dedicate your life to trying to unravel the mystery of where someone went. It could be all-consuming, if you let it.”
“I know. And it was, for a while.” He gazed at the journal. “And now I’m just not sure what to do about it all.”
I sighed but didn’t say anything, because I really wasn’t sure what the right answer was.
Chapter 13
Drew
It was obvious what I needed to do: either forget about this whole thing and carry on with life as though this journal had never made an appearance, or get the ball rolling and try to get some answers.
The first choice would be easier, in the sense that it wasn’t going to create any waves, wouldn’t change my current lifestyle. And really, what were the chances that I would be able to track down Ashleigh after all these years? It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried to find her on Facebook or Instagram or other social media channels. Not that I didn’t think she was on there, but it sure as hell wasn’t as Ashleigh Parker.
There were a lot of reasons why I should just stick with that first option. Business was good. I’d carved out my own little niche of social interactions—playing with FoV, going on my first dates—and I was content with the way things were. But I knew that if I stayed, if I did nothing, it would eat away at me. And what would eat away at me most of all was the fact that I didn’t know: did she leave because she wanted to?
The other thing was, I was entering dangerous territory with Gwen; I knew this. That whole inviting her over for food the other night? What the hell was that? But I’d had fun. It had been a good time—the nicest time I’d had in a while, as a matter of fact. Low-key. Relaxing. No expectations. And of course when she’d left that night, all I’d wanted to do was take her in my arms and kiss her.
If I stayed, chances were good that I’d hang out with her again, and who knew where things would progress. That was tempting, of course. I wanted to. Badly. But I also didn’t trust those feelings, not one bit. I hadn’t been involved with someone in a very long time, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to start now.
Which meant I knew what needed to be done, what I had to do. And in a way, I’d been waiting for this day ever since Ashleigh had disappeared: I was going to go find her.
***
The thing about deciding that you were going to go off and find someone who was missing was that it was probably going to be disruptive, particularly since I had things tying me down to San Francisco. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me, nor was I going to dissolve the business or some crazy shit like that.
No, Parker Security Services was a company that was run a certain way. Check out our website and it would say that I was the founder, but I didn’t have my own goddamn page; you could see my face right there with Jason’s, Lena’s, Cole’s, and Ben’s. I wasn’t consciously aware of this at the time, necessarily, but when I started the company, I knew that I didn’t want it to be some hierarchy with me at the top; I wanted to be doing this with people I trusted, people I knew could run things just as well as I could.
Some people wouldn’t be interested in doing things like that, because they wanted the power, the control; they wanted to be in charge. But I had always liked the idea of an even playing field. For sure, people had their own individual strengths and weaknesses, but instead of trying to jockey for more authority or a better position, we would leverage that as an asset and all work together. It sort of seemed like a no-brainer, and I’d often found myself wondering why more companies didn’t operate that way. Why there had to be CEOs and COOs and whatever other alphabet-soup title you wanted to throw together, people who lorded over their employees and threw temper tantrums when things didn’t go their way. I had never wanted to be one of those people, and I had never felt afraid that anyone I worked with would ever try to usurp me.
So I supposed that you could say I was prepared for this sort of situation to arise, the sort of situation that would require me to do what I was going to do. I was prepared. I had, in effect, grown the company to be able to endure—maybe even thrive through—something like this.
Even still, the look on Jason’s face was not exactly thrilled when I asked him to come talk with me in my office. In fact, he looked rather pained, as if he had some idea of what I was going to say and didn’t think it was a good idea at all.
I smiled first, hoping to reassure him a bit. He did not return the smile.
“So,” I said. “I wanted to talk to you about this first, before I made the announcement to everyone else.”
Jason took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay,” he said. “I’m not sure I like how this sounds.”
“It’s not bad.”
“Glad to hear it, but... I get the feeling that it might not be particularly good, either.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Ever since this journal has come back, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about all the shit that happened. I mean, we had some good times, all of us. You remember that?”
“Sure, I do.”
And I did, vaguely, but almost like it was a scene from a movie I had watched, or that it was someone else’s life and they had recounted all the moments to me. When I thought back on it, I could see myself, like a third-person video game, going through the motions that I had gone through, yet it was like witnessing someone else. There’s Ashleigh and me sitting on the stage in between bands at Redroom, hanging out in Skeet’s backyard where we used the drained in-ground pool as a bowl to skate, driving up the 1 with a car full of our friends, convinced that something better, something more exciting could certainly be found up North. And then of course, Ashleigh and Ryan. They were always together. Sitting in a booth at Sweet Mary’s, hanging out downtown, visiting every thrift store they could find. But were they really not a couple? Or not a couple in the way that everyone assumed?
“But more than the good times,” Jason continued, “is that I’m thinking about all the shit that happened after... after Ashleigh disappeared. And that sort of shit isn’t something I want to relive again. I sure as hell haven’t brought a single word of this up to my dad, by the way. The last thing he wants or needs to hear is that Ryan might’ve been gay.”
Jason’s dad was the one who had found Ryan, who had hung himself. Obviously, he had no idea that he was gay, and knowing Jason’s dad as I did, I didn’t think he’d be particularly thrilled with the idea.
“I won’t either,” I said. “I wasn’t going to call him up and share any theories I might have. He’s been through enough.”
I couldn’t even imagine, of course, finding your own child dead because they had decided to end their own life. But
this new possibility that Ryan was gay changed things with that, too, didn’t it? We had assumed it was because he was heartbroken over Ashleigh. He had been questioned by the police—he had been a suspect, even though no one had come out and said it quite like that. There was a lot of focus on him during that time, though; I did remember that. Everything was such a blur, such a clusterfuck of emotions, but I did remember knowing without a doubt that Ryan did not have anything to do with whatever the hell had happened to Ashleigh.
“Thank you for understanding.”
“Listen, Jason,” I said. “I’m not trying to stir shit up for you, or bring back old memories. I’m really not. But... this has happened, and there was always a part of me that knew this wasn’t over. This wasn’t how this ended.”
“How does this end?”
“I don’t know. But I at least need to go and find out. Find some answers.”
“How are you going to find answers after all these years? What’s different, aside from this journal?”
“That’s exactly it—the journal. The journal is something new, something that we didn’t have back then. And it could change things.”
“Really? Could it? Did she write something down about where exactly she was?”
I took a deep breath and folded my hands on my desk. Jason sounded irritated, which was unusual for him; of all of us who worked here, he was the most even-keeled, mild-mannered, laid-back. Not that he couldn’t get worked up about shit when needed, but he had always been one of those go-with-the-flow sort of guys who didn’t get his feathers ruffled. I didn’t want to be the one responsible for pissing him off right now, yet at the same time I couldn’t just ignore the journal because he didn’t want old memories dredged up.
“She did not,” I said. “Which is unfortunate. But she wrote enough about enough people that I think I have something to go on. I am at least going to try. I’ve got to try.”
“So, what does that mean?”
“I’m going to be taking off for a while.”
He blinked. “A while?”
“Yes. I know that sounds vague, but it’s only because I don’t know exactly when I’ll be back. That being the case, you are now in charge until I return. I have full faith that you’ll be able to handle things. Probably better than I do.”
“I don’t mind handling things if you’ve got somewhere to go, but this sounds like... well, it sounds like a big deal. What are you up to?”
“I’m not exactly sure. I’m going to try to find answers. I can’t just sit back and not do anything; that’s not an option.”
“What exactly does ‘going to try to find answers’ mean?”
“I’m going to go talk to people. I wrote down all the names in the journal. I remember some names of the crew we used to hang out with; I’ve been able to track people down. I’m going to go talk to them. See if anyone remembers anything.”
“Oh, geez.” Jason looked like he had never heard a worse idea. “Are you sure you should do this? You’re going alone?”
“I’d offer to bring you with me, but I have the feeling you’d say no. I mean, not to mention you have a wife and a child who probably want you home. Also, who would be in charge if you came with me?”
“Lena could handle it. Or Ben. Even Cole.”
“Are you saying you want to go with me?”
“Of course I do. But... I’m also not single anymore. I can’t just leave my family like this and go on some road trip with you.”
“That’s what I assumed. I wasn’t expecting otherwise. And honestly, Jason, it’s one less thing on my mind if I know that you’re here taking caring of things and I don’t have to think about it.”
He was silent for a moment. “You sure you really want to do this? Who knows what it might dredge up.”
“I’ve got to,” I said. “What’s the other option? Just throw the journal away and act like I never saw it? Look, don’t misunderstand me here—I know the chances of finding anything are pretty fuckin’ slim. I don’t have high hopes for this. But this is something I need to do. And there is always that tiniest of possibilities that I might find... something.”
“I hear you,” he said. “It’s just... this whole thing is messed up. You’re prepared to do this, just take off? Go on this wild goose chase?”
“Yeah, I am. I’ve been playing the long game on this one, Jason. I told myself a while ago that if the opportunity ever came up to really find out the truth, I was going to take it, no matter what it messed up, or how it inconvenienced me. I got passive as time went by, but now that something concrete has found its way to me, I’m not going to let this opportunity pass me by. No way.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute, and then exhaled loudly. “All right, man. There’s nothing I can say to change your mind. Not saying that I want to, but... all right.”
After he left, I leaned back in my chair, exhaled loudly. That hadn’t gone exactly how I thought it would, but it had been all right.
The next person I needed to inform about this was Gwen. She wasn’t someone who “needed to know” the way Jason did, but I felt that it was important for me to tell her. I owed her that courtesy.
I could tell her over the phone, but... I wanted to talk to her in person. Really, I wanted to see her one last time. So I sent her a text and asked if she wanted to meet up this afternoon, maybe grab a coffee, adding at the end that there’s something I want to talk with you about, nothing serious.
I stared at the message for a moment after I sent it, that nothing serious part. I had added that because I didn’t want her to think that it was some urgent matter or something bad, because it wasn’t.
She didn’t get back to me right away, but almost an hour later. Sorry, she wrote. Was teaching a class. Sure, I can meet up with you—just let me know when/where.
I figured meeting up at a coffee shop would be a good idea, so I asked if she knew where Superior Coffee was, which wasn’t far from the office. I had a couple more things I had to take care of here, and then I could meet her and let her know what my plan was.
***
She got to Superior a few minutes after I did, looking fresh and healthy in purple yoga pants and a silver T-shirt.
“You don’t want anything?” I asked when she came over and sat down.
“No, I’ve had my fill of coffee for the day. How’s it going?” She smiled as she said this, but I could tell that she wasn’t quite sure of what to make of me asking her to meet up because I had to talk to her about something.
“Pretty good. Thanks for meeting me.”
“Yeah, of course. What is it you wanted to talk about?”
“Well... a couple of things, I guess.” I took a sip of my coffee. “First, I wanted to thank you for getting in touch with me about the journal.”
“Of course,” she said. “I couldn’t not. I mean, for some reason or another it took me a couple of tries to do it, but... it was obviously something that you needed to have.”
“The second thing is I wanted to let you know that I’m going to be taking off for a while. I’m not sure for how long, but... maybe when I get back into town, I can give you a call.” I frowned. That last part was not what I had been planning to say, but whatever. Enough time would probably elapse between now and me getting back that this strange desire I had for her would have abated.
“Oh. Are you going somewhere?”
“Yeah. I’d be more specific, but I’m not exactly sure where I’ll be headed. I’ve got a few people I need to talk to here and, depending on what they tell me, that will sort of decide where I’m going.”
She nodded slowly. “You’re going to try to find your sister, aren’t you?”
“I’ve got to. I know it most likely won’t be successful, but I’ve got to. I know it probably sounds foolish, but...” I shrugged. “Sometimes I do foolish things.”
“You?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “I would never have guessed.”
“And who knows? Maybe I’ll find some
answers. But I wanted to let you know, because I wouldn’t be doing this if you hadn’t given me the journal. So... thank you.”
“You already said that,” she said quietly. She frowned, not looking at me, but staring off into the distance. Then her gaze refocused, and she looked me straight in the eyes. “I’m coming with you,” she said.
“Wait—what?”
“I’m going with you. It’s not just your sister that you might find answers about—you might find something about Brandon, too. And another thing—I don’t know all the people you’re planning on talking to, but I think talking with my aunt, Grace, would be a good first step. She’s been wanting me to go over and see her, and I’m sure she’d be glad to meet you. But if you want to talk to her, you’ve got to bring me.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, not quite believing the turn this had taken, “but you do understand that I might be gone for weeks? Maybe even months? I have no clue. I have no clue where this could take me. Can you just up and leave everything like that?”
“I can,” she said, not missing a beat. “I’ve got some money saved, so I can cover rent for at least a month or two. And if it’s longer than that, my roommates wouldn’t mind a sublet situation, so long as it was the right person.”
“And what about your job? Your students? Won’t they miss you?”
“Probably, but it’s not like Laurel doesn’t have a waiting list of teachers who would love the chance to work with her.”
“But what if they want to stay? What if you don’t have your job when you come back?”
“Life is a big buffet of what-ifs,” she said. “What if I had stayed and hadn’t fled to San Francisco when I was a teenager? What if I hadn’t gone to Grace’s to help her clean up after Joshua died? What if I had never given you the journal?”
“Okay, okay—point taken,” I said. “I guess I just want to make sure that you understand things might not be the same when you get back.”
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