As they waited for their food to be assembled, Ellery’s cell phone buzzed. She dug it out and saw the message was from Reed. She thought he might be checking to see that she’d kept Tula alive for ten consecutive minutes, but his message turned out to be about the Lockhart case: I’m doing reconnaissance on Ethan Stone, Teresa’s first husband. Turns out he was speaking at an economics conference this week. His talk was on Friday. Care to guess where?
Boston, she typed back.
Bingo. It was hosted by MIT.
Is he still here? She would love to get a look at him.
Doubtful. Conference wrapped up this AM. He will be my first target in Philly.
He’d shot to the top of Ellery’s list, too. She wondered if she could convince Conroy to allow her to accompany Reed to Pennsylvania. She was still lost in thought about this new development as they received their bag of sandwiches and started the walk home. Tula had hold of her hand again and she was humming some tune that Ellery barely registered.
“Ellery! Ellery!”
It took her a moment to hear her name. People recognized her in public all the time, but usually they responded with whispers and furtive attempts to snap her picture, like she was some lioness they spotted on safari.
“Ellery!”
“What?” She looked down at Tula with a trace of impatience. “What is it?”
Tula pointed across the street. “It wasn’t me. It was her.”
Ellery turned to see an unfamiliar young woman with a large backpack loping across the street. She stopped in front of them with an excited little hop, her cheeks pink from either the effort or the unusually warm evening. “Wow, I was just heading to your place when I happened to see you. I can’t believe I found you here!”
“Well, you did.” Ellery frowned, trying to figure out who the hell she was. Up close, the girl pinged around her brain, but she couldn’t recall her name. “Can I help you with something?”
“It’s me,” she said, spreading her arms and smiling brightly like a model in a fifties soap commercial. “Ashley.”
Ashley. Her stomach dropped and her mouth went dry in sudden recognition before the girl could add her final words.
“Your sister!”
Tula looked up at Ellery and made a noise of dismay at her incompetence. “You don’t recognize your own sister?”
“It’s okay. I didn’t have hair the last time I saw her. It’s growing out real fast now, though.” Ashley Hathaway sported short black hair worn in a slightly spiky style. She ran a hand through it. “What do you think?”
“I, uh … it looks great.” Her mind whirled as she tried to find the right words for this situation. Last she knew, Ashley didn’t know who she was. Their dad had skipped out on Ellery’s family to start a new one, unbeknownst to anyone at the time. He’d only returned when his new daughter needed a bone marrow transplant. Ellery had gone through with the procedure and abided by their father’s wish that she not reveal her identity to the teenager. “How are you feeling?” she asked her now.
“Really good.” She became shy and gave Ellery a mild shove. “Thanks to you.”
“No need to thank me. Really.” She hoisted the sandwich bag on her hip. “Uh, what brings you to town?”
“I came to see you. My sperm donor of a father finally confessed everything a couple of days ago. We had this huge fight and now here I am.”
“Wait. You’re saying your parents didn’t bring you?”
“No, Peter Pan did.” Off Ellery’s look, Ashley rolled her eyes. “You know, the bus?”
“You took the bus all by yourself?” Tula clasped her hands in admiration.
“From Michigan?” Ellery echoed.
Ashley’s bravado faltered. “I thought you’d want to meet me. For real this time.”
“I did. I do. It’s just—you didn’t tell your parents where you were going?”
“He said to leave you alone! He said you didn’t want anything to do with us. I knew that wasn’t true or you wouldn’t have agreed to be my donor.” She looked hurt, angry, and hopeful all at the same time—a trifecta that only a teenager could pull off.
Well shit, Ellery thought. Now she had a second missing kid to deal with, and this time she’d be booked as the kidnapper if she didn’t watch her step. She sighed and took Tula’s hand again. “You may as well come home with us for now,” she said. Her one-bedroom apartment was starting to resemble a crowded subway car.
12
“She looks healthy,” Reed said as he watched Ellery pace the length of her bedroom. They had shut themselves away while Ashley and Tula devoured the sandwiches in Ellery’s kitchen. “That’s something, right?”
Ellery halted and looked at him, her gray eyes pensive. “It’s everything.”
“I know you’ve wondered how she’s been doing.” The last time Ellery saw Ashley—the only time—had been just before Ellery donated the bone marrow cells to treat Ashley’s leukemia, when she lay half-alive in a hospital bed. Ellery’s antigens hadn’t been a match for her brother, Daniel, years ago, and she’d been afraid to check up on the girl for fear that she had failed a second time. Ashley, it seemed, had no such compunctions.
“I can’t believe she just hopped a bus and traveled over eight states without telling anyone. She’s only sixteen.”
Reed folded his arms. “There must be an impulsive streak in the family.”
“Ha, ha. Funny.” She resumed her pacing. “I have to get in touch with my father, but I’m kind of enjoying the fact that he doesn’t know where his kid is. That’s terrible, right? Hell, maybe he doesn’t even care. He didn’t give a rat’s ass where I was for twenty years.”
“It’s not terrible.” John Hathaway had hared off for twenty years, leaving a wife and two devastated children. He hadn’t returned when his daughter was abducted by a serial killer. He hadn’t returned when his only son died of cancer. He hadn’t known about any of it because he hadn’t cared to know. “But you’ll still have to tell him soon. Or have her do it. Otherwise, we’re going to end up on the wrong end of a missing child investigation.” He imagined another version of themselves in Michigan, a cop and an FBI agent starting the search for a lost child. “Tula and I can clear out of here and give you two some space.”
Ellery looked alarmed. “You can’t leave me alone with her. I don’t know anything about kids.”
The first baby Reed had ever held was his own. “No one does at first,” he said with sympathy. “It gets better with practice.”
“Easy for you to say. You’ve been on the job seven years.”
“Oh, I never said it was easy.” He crossed to take her gently by the arms. “She has parents, yes? She doesn’t need that from you. She came here to find her sister. That, as I recall, you do know how to do.”
She looked at him for a moment. “So, I should put her in a headlock and tell her I’ll cover her sheets with itching powder if she ever reads my diary again?”
He allowed himself a rueful half smile because her comment underscored how young she’d been when she lost Daniel, first to chemo and later to the cancer itself. “You keep a diary?”
“Don’t you go snooping or I’ll sic my attack dog on you.”
Reed glanced at Bump, who was belly-up on the bed, snoring. “I’m not especially concerned.”
Ellery only tolerated physical touch for so long. She extricated herself from his hands and wiped her palms on her jeans. “It would make our lives easier if Chloe kept a diary, huh?”
“I think that’s all online now,” Reed said, resigned. “No one bothers with private thoughts anymore.”
“All the more reason we need her cell phone and computer data. I’m going to check to see if it’s come in yet.”
Reed nodded toward the other room where her half sister waited. “Don’t you have something else to attend to first?”
Ellery already had her phone out to consult her email. “I’ll multitask.”
Reed bit back any further criticism
or prodding. It would only make her retreat further behind her wall. Back in the kitchen, Ashley was painting Tula’s fingernails a neon blue while Tula peppered her with questions about her trip. “Did you get to sleep on the bus? Like, all night?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What about when you had to go the bathroom?”
“They had one on the bus.”
“A bus with a bathroom? How was it?”
Ashley made a face. “Smelly,” she said, and Tula giggled.
“Okay, time to wrap it up,” Reed said, rubbing his hands together. “Tula and I need to get back to the hotel.”
“Aw,” Tula replied. “She’s only done eight fingers.”
“Once you hit ten, it’s time to go.” He began clearing away the sandwich wrappers while Ellery remained engrossed in her phone.
“You don’t live here?” Ashley asked him.
“Nah, we live in Virginia,” Tula answered as she admired her fully painted hands. “But maybe we could move here instead of Houston. Right, Daddy?”
Ellery’s head jerked up in surprise. “Houston?”
So she wasn’t completely checked out of the conversation. “I’ll explain later,” he said.
“You’re moving to Houston?” she said as though he hadn’t spoken.
“Ouch, touchy subject,” Ashley muttered.
Tula rolled her eyes like she, too, was sixteen years old. “I know. My mom and Randy whisper about it when they think I can’t hear them.”
“It’s not me moving,” Reed said to Ellery sotto voce, although the whole room was in on the secret now. “Sarit, maybe.”
“How would that work?”
“I don’t know.” He rubbed the side of his head, which had started to throb.
Her phone pinged and she looked down at it. “The records are in,” she said. “We should have a month’s worth of Chloe’s data.”
“Can you send it to me?”
She gave him a cool glance. “I don’t know. Are you officially on this case now, or what?”
Okay, he thought, you’re still mad about the Houston thing. Join the club, darlin’. “It hasn’t been an issue so far.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Granting you access to evidence that requires a warrant might be a good place to start.”
He pursed his lips and shook his head slightly. Ellery had never been a stickler for rules, which meant the point of this exchange was just to stick it. To him.
She looked him over, her gaze challenging. “What’s it going to be, Reed? Are you in or out?”
Tula jumped down from her stool and flapped around like an excited bat, drying her wet nails. “Wait till I tell Mama about this!”
God help me, Reed thought. “I’m in.”
* * *
Reed took Tula to the hotel and they enjoyed a brief swim in the pool. He parked her in front of cartoons on the bed opposite his and pulled out his laptop, eager to see if Ellery had forwarded the information from Chloe’s mobile phone and computer. When he saw she had sent the files, he propped up the pillows and settled in to read. Most of the exchanges were banal or ridiculous. Chloe and her friends had entire conversations in emojis. We’ve come full circle to hieroglyphics, Reed thought as he scrolled onward.
Did u c the sequin boots Emily wore 2day? McKenna wrote last week. I need them!!!!
Kinda extra if u ask me, Chloe wrote back.
Yah, extra AWESOME. That’s facts.
Whatever. They r like $1000.
Ok, I’ll put them on my b-day list.
Maybe I will get them 4 u. If ur nice enuf.
Ha! U don’t have that much .
Ive been saving up. Plus, someone gave me a late b-day present.
$1000?????
Close enuf, Chloe said.
U lie.
Chloe sent back a picture of a hand (hers?) closed around multiple hundred-dollar bills.
HOLY SHIT, grrrrrl. What U been doing … turning tricks lol?
I told u. It was a present.
Don’t even tell me it was Ty.
U don’t believe he’s real, so I won’t tell u.
Even if he’s real, u said he’s what … 17? He doesn’t have that kind of .
Ok, he doesn’t have it. I do.
Ha ha ha. Ok, slut. We’ll sneak you out & have sum real fun.
I wish. My warden can’t be bought off.
Ask ur mom if you can sleep over this wknd. My dad will b working late and we can do wut we want.
If ur dad isn’t home, there’s no way my mom says yes.
So we don’t tell her.
She always checks.
Reed scanned through a bunch of texts from Barnaby pestering Chloe for math help. He was apparently in summer school. Chloe seemed happy to reply. Each day, there were multiple texts from Teresa:
Hi, sweetheart. Did you find the fruit salad for breakfast?
Yes, sir.
Mimi said she’d be happy to take you swimming at the club today. It’s gorgeous outside.
If it’s nice out, I want to go to the beach. Not the dumb old people’s club.
No beach. There was a shark spotted there last week.
You never let me have any fun.
One particular exchange with Teresa three days before Chloe disappeared caught Reed’s attention:
Honey, the Metrowest Symphony Orchestra is holding auditions this fall for a young artist’s concerto competition. I think you should try out with the Mozart 21.
I don’t know if I feel like it.
You have a gift, Chloe. You should share it with the world.
If it’s my gift, I should choose what to do with it, right?
Yes, but your father and I are the ones who pay for the lessons.
I didn’t ask for those either.
You did. You begged me for a straight month when you were five.
I’m 12 now. Almost 13.
As the person who gave birth to you, I’m well aware of your age. Just think about the audition, okay? We can talk about it later. It would be a good thing to have on your resume.
My resume??? Mom, I’m not getting a job. Just playing the piano.
Honey, competition for good schools starts early. Many of your peers are juggling twice the extracurricular activities that you are. Remember, we agreed to let you drop French for the summer.
My “peers” are at the movies seeing Avengers right now!! Not me.
We can go this weekend. I have Saturday off.
I don’t want to go with you. I want to go WITH THEM. No chaperone. Def. no NANNY!
I know you think we’re too protective, but you don’t understand the dangers.
I don’t care. I wish some “predator” would come and take me. At least then I’d get out of the stupid house!
You don’t mean that. The very fact that you could say it shows you’re not mature enough to make these decisions. Your brother didn’t get to be thirteen and—
I’m sorry he died!! I really am. But I’m alive, Mom. I’M ALIVE …
Reed did a search on file for “Ty” and he got a lot of “ty” for “thank you.” Chloe did not appear to be conversing with anyone named Ty at any point. His name cropped up a couple of times in other chats, such as when someone named Aimee suggested Ty could give them a ride to Providence to see some YouTube star’s appearance:
Get your bf Ty on it! The whole point of dating an older man is bcuz they have wheels!
He’s not my bf, Chloe wrote back.
That’s bcuz he doesn’t exist, McKenna wrote.
One day u will c. I expect 2 c your apology on a cake. Chloe had attached an example—a multilayered professionally decorated cake that had a beautiful bouquet of frosted flowers and an elegant I’m sorry written out in sugar form.
His cell phone buzzed and he glanced at Tula before answering it. She had dozed off with a stuffed pony in her arms. Reed muted the television and took the call from Ellery. “Did you read it yet?” she asked by way of greeting.
“I’m looking at it now.”
“Nothing on this Ty kid.” She sounded frustrated. “If they were communicating recently, it wasn’t through this phone or through her computer. I’m wondering about the gaming system she had in her room. Maybe she met him that way.”
“Worth checking out. Did you see the picture of the cash? She must have amassed at least six hundred dollars.”
“I saw. It could explain where she got her second phone.”
“Except she said someone else gave her the phone.”
“Ty, maybe. Or maybe she bought it to escape the Lockharts’ monitoring and she just wanted to be mysterious with her friends. Either way, we have to find this kid Ty and find out what he knows.”
Reed made a noise of agreement. “Speaking of wayward children…”
“I made Ashley call our father. He said he was going to get on a plane to come get her. She told him to fuck off.”
Reed smiled in spite of himself. “Bet that felt good.”
“She’s in the shower now. But Reed, she can’t stay here. I can’t drop everything with this investigation to look after a kid.”
Reed took off his reading glasses and rotated his neck to crack it. All the lost people are not your personal responsibility, Sarit used to say to him. He always had the same comeback: What if it was our daughter who was missing?
She is missing, Sarit would inform him. She’s missing her father.
The cutting remark drew blood because he knew it to be true. Tula would love to see him more, as he would her. If he had a regular nine-to-five job that required no travel, he might have scored fifty-fifty physical custody of his daughter. He wouldn’t miss a single recital or a soccer game. The FBI could slot another profiler into his job and the search for the missing people would continue. What he was coming to understand, though, was that everyone was lost at some point. Sarit had been lost in their marriage and he had not recognized it until she’d faded from sight. He’d been lost himself last year when he had discovered the truth about his parentage. Tula would be lost one day, too. What he hoped she saw now was his dedication to helping other people, his willingness to listen. He hoped she knew how his heart followed her wherever she went. He hoped she knew he would travel the earth to find her and bring her home, no matter what form that took.
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