The Missing Woman: Utterly gripping psychological suspense with heart-thumping twists

by Georgina Cross

  July 5 at 11:55 a.m.

  Did Jacob Andrews switch cars or something?

  Jennifer Krel Why would he switch cars?

  Heather Stephenson Maybe there’s a chance it wasn’t him after all.

  Lamar Jackson The man says he was at a woman’s house. And that’s not his Tesla. So…

  Scott Wooley I still have my money on him. He had someone help him. Sabine is in the trunk of that Buick.

  Christine Blanchard Scott, can you remove yourself from the group posts? I’m sick of

  seeing your accusations.

  Scott Wooley Whoa! We can write what we want in here.

  Carolyn Castillo Christine, if you don’t like it, why don’t you leave the group yourself?

  Heather Stephenson Everyone needs to calm down.

  Eric Nichols We’re heading out in five minutes.

  Fifteen

  Is Mark Miller lying? Is he making up the fact he saw Jacob Andrews, or did he see him in the Buick and left that detail out on purpose?

  And how did he know Jacob was in a rental car in the first place?

  I think of Sabine’s best friends sitting by him at the pool. The way Monica said they won’t try it again. If he and Monica are so sure they know who they are and they claim Jacob threatened them in the past, then why would Mark lie about seeing the Tesla? A cherry red sports car with an American flag bumper sticker is highly identifiable. The detail about him using his left turn signal is incredibly specific too. Why would Mark say those things but describe the wrong car?

  And not to mention the most chilling part—what Tish is going to freak out about the most—the vehicle captured in the video looks like the one Jacob must have driven to her house.

  I pace in the kitchen and agonize over when Tish will see this video herself. The moment she’ll watch it with bated breath as I did, only to discover it’s a car looking very much like the one her boyfriend was driving.

  Did Jacob Andrews lie to Tish? He told her he was in her house until after 8 p.m. but he snuck out early. Either that, or someone else happened to be driving a black Buick at the same time Mark Miller was going home. What are the odds?

  Which means Jacob returned to Tish’s house only to take more photos of himself in the kitchen. He wanted to show that it was dark outside. He staged it all.

  But I still don’t understand how Jacob could have swung it. How he could leave Tish’s kitchen, show up at the Millers’ house, and have enough time to confront Sabine before chasing her through the woods. And even more time-consuming, take Sabine to where she still hasn’t been found and still beat it back to Tish’s house for a couple more photo ops? With him wearing that wretched mustache on his face and standing in front of a repaired dishwasher with nightfall outside her window? We’re talking about an hour block of time. Maybe less. It almost seems impossible.

  But as shrewd as Jacob Andrews is, wouldn’t he also know that by driving down Honors Row, someone was bound to have a security camera? They would capture him traveling down their very street? That eventually the police will find out he’d rented a Buick earlier in the afternoon?

  I steal a glance down the hall to my friend.

  Does Tish have any idea who she’s dealing with?

  When Tish emerges from my bathroom, I don’t want to tell her. I’m trying not to look jumpy, trying not to panic.

  Has she seen the video yet?

  But Tish isn’t carrying her phone in her hands and instead says, “I’m going to check on the kids,” before heading for Taylor’s bedroom.

  My phone dings with several news alerts. Every local station is parked outside the Millers’ home with additional crews staked out on the golf course where her blood was found. A CNN crew has shown up too, the news of what has happened to Mark Miller’s wife reaching national levels.

  I scan through the alerts, viewing images of the Millers’ back porch and a close-up of their back door, the one that shows glass smashed in—the door they believe she ran from and escaped to the woods. In another article, yellow caution tape stretches across a bank of trees, the golf course in the distance. Additional crime scene tape marks off the golf cart path, and beside it, several wooden stakes are shoved into the ground.

  Is that where they found her broken bracelet? More of her blood?

  I read the headlines:

  Day Two: the search for Sabine Miller

  Jacob Andrews released from police questioning for now

  I lift my eyes:

  Mark Miller to give another press conference at 2 p.m.

  Is there new information?

  And then another striking headline:

  Jacob Andrews’ Tesla Roadster remains at his property

  Underneath the copy reads:

  Wife Meredith Andrews cannot confirm her husband’s whereabouts between the hours of 4 p.m. and 8 p.m. but does confirm his sports car was parked in their driveway. Mark Miller is to provide a statement about his sighting of this vehicle in the Green Cove subdivision which is located eighteen miles from the Andrews’ home. Is Mark Miller mistaken?

  I shake my head. Both men have a lot of explaining to do…

  My phone lights up with an incoming call, and for a split second, I’m wondering if it’s Terry—the man I’ve been dating. He’s finally checking in or he’s heard the news while on his work trip and wants to make sure we’re okay. But, no, it’s Amanda.

  “Hey,” she says. She is once again breathless, reminding me of the last twenty-four hours where she’s sounded nothing less than shocked, and my heart ratchets a few beats.

  What else have they found? What has she learned? Does she know about Tish?

  “It’s Monica,” she says. “They’ve brought her in for questioning.”

  I pause. “Monica? Wouldn’t that be a formality? She was with Sabine last night.”

  “Yes, but they’ve already questioned her. Carol too. But something else happened. They found something else. Hate mail.”

  “Hate mail? You’re kidding.”

  “Some horrible letter she wrote to Sabine. Something vicious.”

  “They got in a fight. What’s the big deal?”

  “Trust me. What she wrote is making everyone’s head spin. It’s stunning.”

  Facebook Group Post

  Praying for Sabine Miller (Private Facebook Group)

  Anthony Castillo

  July 5 at 1:05 p.m.

  Unbelievable. Looks like Monica Claiborne is in the hot seat now.

  Tamyra Meeks What have you heard??

  Alice Chin She wrote some letter. The cops found it balled up in Sabine’s house. It doesn’t look good.

  Kerry LeBlanc Where are you guys hearing this?

  Carolyn Castillo We’ve got connections.

  Tamyra Meeks What did she say? Have you guys seen the letter?

  Anthony Castillo Not yet. But from what I understand, she threatened her.

  Kerry LeBlanc What in the hell? They’re best friends. Why would she do that?

  Christine Blanchard Aren’t you guys supposed to be out there searching?

  Alice Chin We are. Just stopping to check Facebook.

  Hector Suarez There were about 300 people at the pool who can say they saw Monica, Carol, and Sabine together and they looked fine. There was no fighting. No animosity.

  Alexis Redfield I saw them too. They looked happy.

  Hector Suarez If there’s a hate letter, they’ve gotten over it since then.

  Hillary Danners Why would someone write something like that and then actually go after the person? Wouldn’t that immediately give them away?

  Carolyn Castillo People are stupid.

  Scott Wooley She probably thought Sabine tore the letter up but she didn’t.

  Alice Chin You guys, this is crazy… but I just I heard Monica used to date Mark Miller back in the day.

  Tamyra Meeks No way!!

  Carolyn Castillo I heard that too. They dated in college before he met Sabine.

  Scott Wooley So tha
t’s it then.

  Alice Chin I think she’s always been jealous. She wanted him back.

  Anthony Castillo Could be motive…

  Heather Stephenson Why don’t we wait until we hear the next news report?

  Sixteen

  At the last minute, Mark Miller cancels his appearance at the additional press conference. Instead, the spokesperson for the police department makes brief remarks—a total of one minute and four seconds, which sends the media into a frenzy asking questions and demanding to know why Mark is suddenly refusing to speak to the press when he appeared only hours earlier.

  Tish finds me watching the event streaming on WAFF 48 News and sits beside me on the couch, tucking one knee under her chin as we listen to reporters call out with questions that go unanswered. The spokesperson is stepping away from the cluster of microphones and trying her best to smile when several more reporters throw in a few extra requests.

  Is Mark Miller mistaken about what car he saw?

  Why would he say it was Jacob Andrews?

  Who is the woman Mr. Andrews was with last night?

  By now, Tish has caught up with every message on her phone. She’s finished watching the movie with the kids and collected her phone from the charger, her eyes widening the moment she checked the video post, the color in her face blanching.

  The revelation the car is a black Buick LaCrosse isn’t lost on her. Her mouth dropped open the moment she hit play—a sickening worry filling her eyes. But she hasn’t said a word to me about it. Every fear and doubt and question about whether that’s him or not—the same questions running through my head—are, I’m sure, filling her brain. This latest revelation hangs heavy in the air between us.

  Mark Miller is lying. And Jacob lied to her too.

  Another reporter calls out:

  Can you discuss details about Monica Claiborne?

  Is she now a suspect?

  But the police spokesperson waves her hand; she’s done. And no one else is moving to replace her at the microphone stand. They’re shutting down the press conference.

  Well, that won’t go over very well. A lack of transparency from authorities will either mean they don’t have the first clue or they’re hiding something before coming clean with the public.

  If I had to guess, with half the police department including the lead detectives and that very spokesperson already working with the county commissioner’s office, they’re supporters of Mark Miller. He’s that popular and that loved. More than likely, they’re good friends and voted for him in the last election, which means they plan on voting for him again in November.

  But now this. They’re in damage control mode. Turmoil not only for Mark Miller’s family and the safety of his wife on the grandest of national scales, but for his political campaign too.

  Behind closed doors I can only imagine a team is scrambling to help him make sense of his story. What he thinks he saw. What he thinks he knows about Jacob Andrews. Whatever threat he claims the man has made to them in the past. If he’s going to have to backtrack on his original accusation.

  And now Monica.

  Did he make up the part about Jacob Andrews’ car to protect her? When I heard her say at the pool, they won’t try it again, did Mark automatically jump to accusing Jacob because he couldn’t imagine it would be Monica—a close family friend and someone devoted to his wife? Someone who, coincidentally, also used to be his girlfriend.

  Taylor and Lydia don’t want to leave. We’re finishing a thrown-together dinner of spaghetti when my ex-husband Derek rings the doorbell ready to take them back to his place.

  This is what we do: the children transfer back and forth to our houses every week with Sunday evenings being the most convenient time to pick them up. But it’s never easy. It hurts every time I see them go.

  Lydia doesn’t get up from the table; her hands remain tucked in her lap as she shoots me a look. She’s worried and doesn’t want to leave me alone. But Taylor scampers to the door and swings it wide open. “Daddy!” she squeals.

  I slide my eyes to Lydia. “We’ll be all right,” I tell her. “I’ve got Aunt Tish.” But even as I say this, Tish is mindlessly pushing noodles around with a fork, lost in her thoughts, ready to hide or scream or curl up into a ball.

  Lydia says, “What about Aunt Amanda?”

  “She’s stopping by again tonight. She wants to talk to Tish and me about some things.” And I glance at my friend wondering if she’s seen the latest text—if this is any indication Amanda has learned Tish is Jacob Andrews’ alibi.

  Taylor pulls on her dad’s hand until she’s led him into the kitchen. He doesn’t greet us, only smiles at Lydia, who eventually stands from the table and gives her father a hug, her head pressing against his chest before she steps away. “Hi, Dad,” she says.

  “Hey, sweetheart. Do you have anything you want to bring?”

  She shakes her head.

  “I’ve missed you,” he says, scooping both girls in for a hug. “I’ve missed you both so much.”

  When he says this, he accidentally makes eye contact with me. But I know good and well his sentiment doesn’t include me. It never has, not since he started running around on me behind my back.

  As the girls say goodbye, he says, “I’ll bring them back Sunday.” When he stops on the porch, he adds, “Make sure you lock your doors.” A worried glance toward the front yard. “Something in Green Cove isn’t right.”

  Seventeen

  Amanda sends a heads-up she’s five minutes away.

  Tish immediately turns in my direction. She’s finally speaking. “I’m telling her as soon as she gets here. You’re right. I need to get this over with.”

  I finish rinsing the plates from dinner; the pots I leave in the sink to soak. Tish asks if she can borrow my iPad and brings Charlie to the couch so he can watch cartoons. He settles against the sofa cushions, his head tilted to one side as she presses play.

  When she returns to the kitchen, she asks, “Do you want to tell the police about finding Sabine’s bracelet?”

  I silently place the sponge on the counter.

  “Or tell Amanda you have it?”

  I shut off the water. “I don’t think it has that much significance.”

  “But what if it does?” Tish looks to the door that will soon open with Amanda’s appearance. “You said it yourself, she can help. I’m telling her about Jacob and maybe when you tell her about the bracelet it might mean something. She’s hearing so many details and something like this could click.”

  “But you saw her at the pool, the amount of jewelry Sabine was wearing.” I shrug. “It fell off. It doesn’t mean anything—”

  The door yanks open.

  It’s Amanda, hot and sweaty with her curls mashed beneath a white baseball cap stained with sweat. Dirt and grass marks run from the hem of her track pants to her knees.

  I turn from the sink. “I thought it was just the golf course?”

  She brushes past me and reaches for a glass, filling it to the top with water. “It was. But there are a lot of hazards out there. Sand dunes. Tall grass.” She chugs the water greedily before wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve. “It’s hot out there.” She fills the glass for a second time. “Be glad you’re inside.”

  Tish sits at the table. She opens her mouth, ready to tell her, her shoulders rising in preparation for what she has to say, but Amanda doesn’t give her a chance.

  “They think Sabine may have cut through the woods to another side of the trees before she got to the golf course. Like she ran in a zig-zag pattern or something as if she was being chased.” She takes another big gulp of water and this time instead of her shirt sleeve, she tears off a piece of paper towel and runs it against her mouth. “Monica and Carol said she’d been wearing a couple of bracelets at the pool and since the cops found one of them snapped in two, they had us looking for anything else that could have been yanked from her body.” Tish rips her eyes to me but I give the tiniest shake of my h
ead to hold off for now. “There was also a charm someone found near the golf course,” Amanda says. “But they’re not sure if it’s hers or not.”

  Tish clears her throat. “What did it look like?”

  “Red, I think. Someone said it could have been a heart since Mark gave her an I Love You charm a few years back. The police are asking him to identify it.” She balls up the paper towel and tosses it in the trash. “I’m hearing several other comments too.”

  “Like what?” I ask.

  “How Sabine disappearing in the middle of Mark’s re-election campaign is either hurting his election chances or helping him. Causing turmoil. Costing him valuable time where he could be out there campaigning.”

  I scoff. “People really care about that during a time like this?”

  “His team does. I’ve heard them talking. But they’re confident he’s getting the sympathy vote since there’s not a speck of evidence against him, with everything pointing to an outside job. Pinning it on Jacob Andrews, for example. Their marriage was on the up and up,” Amanda continues. “Mark is the devastated husband who won’t rest until his wife is found.” She sets down her water glass, meeting our gaze. “And can you believe this craziness about Monica’s letter too?”