by L. T. Vargus
“OK, what can you tell me about the days before Kara left? What she did, who she saw, anything unusual that might have happened.”
“Since the kids are on break, the girls have been watching Tyler for us during the day,” Misty said. “As far as I know, everything’s been normal. Up until Kara realized she really wasn’t going on that trip, things had been fine with her.”
Charlie looked over at Rachel, who was fiddling with the sleeve of her shirt.
“What do you think? Had she seemed normal to you?”
Rachel nodded.
“Yeah, I mean, she complained a lot about having to meet with her probation officer. She said it was Christmas break, and she should get a break from everything.”
“What day was that?” Charlie asked.
Misty gripped both sides of her head with her hands.
“The day before we had the fight. Tuesday. And she’s had an attitude about her probation requirements this whole time, so that was certainly normal. I kept telling her she should be thanking her lucky stars it was only probation.”
“And how often did she see her probation officer?”
“Once a week or so. Sometimes her officer would show up for random check-ups, but usually they’d meet up at her lawyer’s office. Kara could walk there after school, and her lawyer wanted to be sure she was keeping up with the requirements. I was so grateful that he kept her out of jail, and now this.” Misty started to tear up again. “I thought the worst was behind us.”
“Would you happen to have her probation officer’s name and number?”
“I have it written down right over here,” Misty said, scooting her chair out and moving to a small notepad on the counter.
She scribbled the information down on a Post-it and handed it to Charlie.
“And her lawyer?”
“Oh, that would be Will Crawford, right here in town. I’m sure you remember Will.”
“Of course,” Charlie said.
Another classmate. Will had been a grade ahead of her and Allie.
Charlie glanced down at her notes. She had a solid list of friends to talk to, plus Kara’s father, probation officer, and lawyer.
“This is a good start,” she said. “Is it OK if I take a look around Kara’s room before I go?”
Rachel raised her hand, as if she were in math class instead of sitting at the dining room table in her own house.
“We share a room. I can show you.”
Chapter Six
Rachel hovered in the doorway while Charlie entered the room. There were bunk beds against one wall, and Charlie could guess which bed belonged to which girl with a single glance.
The bottom bunk—Kara’s—had a purple feather boa wrapped around one bedpost. The wall next to the bed was adorned with rows of Christmas lights, and Polaroids of Kara and her friends had been clipped to the wire strands.
The top bunk, Rachel’s space, was more low-key. There was a Beatles poster, a print of Van Gogh’s Starry Night, and a single photo. Moving closer, Charlie saw that it was a black-and-white strip from a photobooth. Charlie took in the miniature photos, top to bottom: Kara and Rachel with their tongues out, Kara wearing Rachel’s glasses, Kara and Rachel holding their noses up like pigs, and lastly, Kara and Rachel smiling sweetly, arms slung around each other’s shoulders.
“You two are close?”
Rachel took a step into the room.
“It’s hard to share a room with someone for eight years and not be close,” she answered. “She’s probably my best friend.”
There was a dresser and desk on the opposite side of the room from the beds. The top of the dresser was cluttered with makeup, lotion, jewelry, and more photos. Clearly Kara’s stuff. In contrast, the desk beside it was neat and orderly, with a laptop, notebook, and some pens and pencils in a cat-shaped mug.
Charlie noticed as she studied Kara’s photo collection that Rachel was not in any of them. Nor did she remember seeing any photos of Rachel on Kara’s Facebook or Instagram. An uncomfortable feeling wormed in her gut. She knew she should leave it, but something wouldn’t let her.
She gestured at the Polaroids.
“Looks like Kara has a lot of friends.”
Rachel smiled, but there was sadness in her eyes.
“Yeah.”
“How well do you know them?”
“We… don’t really hang out with the same people.”
Charlie felt a familiar twinge in her gut. She was getting the strongest reminders of herself and Allie in this room. Was it the bunk beds? The way the two girls’ spaces were so different? Kara with all of her friends and Rachel with… her computer?
She and Allie had always been close. They were twins, after all. And yet the older they got, the more Charlie had felt like they were drifting apart. Except that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t so much a drifting apart as Allie pushing her away, at least in public. At home they’d been closer than ever. It was at school that Allie had seemed to want nothing to do with her.
Charlie understood Allie’s need to be separate sometimes. There were times when being a twin felt like everyone viewed you as only one half of a person. But it was the push-pull of it that stung, even now. The way Allie could fall right back into BFF mode at home after ignoring Charlie at school all day. Charlie shook these thoughts away, wary of getting sucked into a black hole of nostalgia.
“Is the computer…?” Charlie gestured at the laptop.
“It’s mine,” Rachel said. “But Kara uses it sometimes. For school, usually. Though most of the time she talks me into typing up her reports for her. She says it’s because I’m faster at typing, which is true, but…”
“But she also likes getting people to do things for her?” Charlie guessed.
Rachel looked surprised but nodded.
“I had a sister like that,” Charlie said, thinking of the time she constructed an entire diorama for Allie’s history class. “Can I check the search history real quick?”
“Sure,” Rachel said.
Charlie opened the browser and checked the history for the days leading up to Kara’s disappearance. Searches for “makeup tutorials blue eyes,” “best tanning spray,” “SpongeBob memes,” and “clubs in Cozumel” were obvious enough. Charlie scrolled further down the list, but nothing gave an indication of where Kara might be now.
“Does she ever use your dad’s laptop?” Charlie asked.
Rachel’s head shook from side to side.
“No, that’s his work computer. It’s strictly off-limits because one time Misty was using it to play Bejeweled, and she accidentally downloaded spyware. Dad got really mad and banned any of us from touching it.”
Charlie chuckled.
“And aside from that, is this the only computer in the house?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you know if Kara ever talked to people online? People she didn’t know in real life, I mean.”
“I don’t think so. She would think that was… I don’t know, dorky or something,” Rachel said, then tilted her head to one side. “But maybe if it was the right kind of person.”
“A cute guy, you mean?”
A shy smile spread over Rachel’s face. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
“Does she have a boyfriend?”
“No. At least I don’t think so.” Rachel looked like she was about to say more but stopped herself.
“What is it?”
“It’s just that Kara has a big heart, but sometimes she trusts the wrong people. And lets them get away with treating her like crap.”
Rachel went quiet then, her eyes on the photostrip of Kara pinned to the wall.
“She acts like she’s invincible.”
This comment struck Charlie as odd, at least without some sort of context.
“How do you mean?”
Rachel startled slightly, as if she’d forgotten Charlie was even there.
“I… don’t know. Just things she does sometimes.”
She was trying to p
ass it off as nothing, but Charlie wasn’t buying it.
“What kind of things?”
When Rachel started chewing her lip, Charlie knew she was onto something.
“If you’re hiding something, I need you to tell me what it is. Keeping Kara’s secrets right now isn’t helping her. There’s a chance she’s in trouble, and I’m not talking about the kind that gets you grounded. You understand?”
A tear spilled down Rachel’s cheek. Her voice came out a whisper.
“She’s been sneaking out after her curfew. Not every night. Usually on weekends.” She wiped the wetness from her face and sniffed. “I figured it was to go to parties or to hang out with a guy or whatever. I told her it was stupid. That if she got caught, she could end up in juvie.”
Charlie only nodded, waiting for Rachel to continue.
“She kept saying she had a plan.”
“A plan?”
“To get out of Salem Island. For good. She’s always hated it here. But it got worse after the trouble she got into. I don’t know why she hates it so much, really. I figure Salem Island is probably mostly the same as everywhere else. It’s not perfect, but it isn’t so bad,” she said, shrugging.
Charlie thought Rachel was right and wrong at the same time. Salem Island wasn’t so different than any other small town. But Charlie knew the feeling of wanting to escape it. Some places had more ghosts than others.
“And you have no idea where she went those times she snuck out?”
Rachel shook her head.
“She outright refused to tell me where she was going or what exactly her big plan was. And that was weird. Because she tells me everything.”
“OK,” Charlie said, with a nod of her head. “Just one last question. If you had to guess the first person Kara would have called or gone to after she left the house on Wednesday, who would it be?”
Charlie’s gaze followed Rachel’s to the photos on Kara’s wall. The girl seemed to scan the faces, trying to decide who Kara trusted most.
“Probably Maggie.”
“Last name?” Charlie asked, getting out her pen.
“Stahl.”
The pen scratched over Charlie’s notepad. She took a business card from her pocket and handed it to Rachel.
“If you think of anything, even something small, please let me know. You never know what detail might help.”
Staring down at the simple card with Charlie’s name, phone number, and email address printed in neat black letters, Rachel swallowed. Her brown eyes flicked up to meet Charlie’s.
“Do you really think she’s in trouble?”
“I hope not.” Charlie tucked her notepad back in her bag. “But I intend to find her either way.”
Chapter Seven
When Charlie returned to her car after talking to Kara’s family, she shut herself inside and sat for a minute, not moving. A thousand memories of Allie flashed through her mind. Being in that bedroom had felt like ripping off a scab—a familiar injury reopened.
After a couple minutes, Charlie started the ignition and headed toward town, trying to push away the negative feelings. Kara wasn’t Allie. This case had nothing to do with Allie. Continuing to compare the two girls wasn’t helping. It was only clouding her thoughts, dredging up old feelings that helped exactly no one.
She’d made arrangements earlier to talk with Kara’s friend, Maggie Stahl—a prospect that seemed all the more critical after what Rachel had said about Kara sneaking out at night—but that interview wouldn’t happen until the following morning. In the meantime, there was another lead she could pursue.
Downtown, Charlie pulled to the curb in front of an old Victorian house and parked. It had been converted into offices sometime during Charlie’s absence from Salem Island. The place had been in bad shape when Charlie was growing up—peeling paint and a sagging porch roof—but someone had really put some work into it, restoring the exterior to its original condition. The sign out front listed two businesses: Judy Walenski, CPA and Will Crawford, Attorney at Law.
“Well, well, well…” Allie said. “You didn’t even have to look up his address or anything. You dirty dog.”
“Shut up.”
The wooden steps out front creaked under Charlie’s feet as she climbed the porch and opened the door. The ground floor had been split into two separate spaces, and there was also a stairway leading to a second floor. Charlie spotted Will’s name next to the door on the left and entered.
A middle-aged woman with a Bluetooth earpiece in her ear sat behind a desk in the waiting room, having what sounded like a conversation with a child.
“Then you’re ready to put the clothes in the dryer,” she was saying. There was a pause. “I don’t know. It’s different every time. Start with sixty minutes and go from there. And don’t forget to empty the lint trap.”
She sighed and held up a finger in Charlie’s direction.
“The pull-out screen thing. Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “OK. Love you. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Pursing her lips, the woman shook her head and ended the call.
“Sorry about that. My thirteen-year-old is going bowling tonight, and now he’s in a panic because his favorite shirt is dirty. A year ago it was a fight just to get him to shower regularly. Now he’s obsessed with cologne and body wash.” She sighed dramatically. “Now, what can I do for you?”
“I’m here to see Will… er… Mr. Crawford?” Charlie said, her nervousness making it come out more like a question than a statement.
The woman smiled pleasantly, ignoring Charlie’s awkwardness.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I—”
Just then the door beyond the woman’s desk opened, and a man in a suit came out. It took a beat before Charlie realized it was Will. She’d still been picturing him as a tall, gangly eighteen-year-old with red-gold hair that hung in his eyes. And definitely not wearing a three-piece suit.
His hair was still on the long side, especially for a lawyer, though it wasn’t quite the surfer-esque mop it had once been. But it was the eyes that really gave him away. They were bright hazel. Intense. Perhaps retaining some mischief even after all these years.
Will stopped short in the doorway, staring at her. At first she thought he was only trying to place her, but she saw the recognition on his face. It was a beat before Charlie realized he wasn’t seeing her. He was seeing Allie. The Allie that could have been. Because Allie was the one everyone remembered, and it would have been that way even if she hadn’t disappeared. If Allie had lived, Charlie probably would have gone her entire life being mistaken for her.
Finally, he seemed to find his voice.
“Charlie. Wow.”
“Hello, Will,” she said, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Like she was imposing. Why hadn’t she called first? “I was hoping you had a minute.”
“Of course.” He gestured that she should follow him into his office. “Come on in.”
Will’s office looked like something out of a TV show. Barrister-style bookcases lined either side of the room, each one filled with leather-bound books. On the back wall, Will’s credentials hung in large gold frames. The walls were midnight-blue, the ceiling coffered.
Will took a seat behind a large mahogany desk. As Charlie slid into the velvet wingback opposite him, she couldn’t help but notice that his chair sat much higher. She wondered if it was on purpose. To make him seem more dominant or imposing or something.
“Nice office,” she said, glancing at a pair of antique-looking brass sconces flanking the window. “I kind of feel like I’m a contestant on The Apprentice.”
Across from her, Will’s mouth popped open. He was quiet for a moment, and she worried she’d hurt his feelings.
But then he burst out laughing.
“You know, I used to have a much more casual office. Fewer books. Way less desk,” he said, pointing at the carved behemoth he was sitting behind. “Simple. Minimalist. But Marcia, that’s my assistant
you saw out front, she suggested hiring a designer to come in. She said that my clients have certain expectations. And she was right. Business has more than doubled since we put in fancy bookcases and moody lighting. Everyone wants something that looks like a TV procedural or something.”
He hooked a thumb at the wall. “Most of those are fake, by the way. The books. If you try to pick one up, the whole row comes with it. It’s just an empty shell with book spines stuck on.”
“I don’t know if anyone’s told you,” Charlie said, “but you’re not supposed to brag about being illiterate.”
Will flashed a good-natured grin.
“What I’m trying to get at is that so much of litigation is about the theatrics, especially in the courtroom. But it applies even in the privacy of your office. It was an incredibly valuable lesson to learn. About life and about people. All the world’s a stage, right?”
“Are you quoting Shakespeare now just to prove to me that you can read?”
“Shakes-who-now?” Will asked, feigning seriousness.
It was his favorite kind of joke, pretending to be stupid.
“Anyway,” he said, “what brings you to my humble establishment?”
“I’m here about Kara Dawkins.”
The smile on his face turned to a frown.
“What about her?”
“She’s missing. Her mother hired me to find her.”
“Missing?” he repeated. “For how long?”
“Since Wednesday afternoon.”
“Shit. Hold on one second.”
He lifted his phone from the desk, swiping and tapping at the screen. Charlie heard a number being dialed as Will pressed the phone to his ear.
“Amanda? Hi, it’s Will Crawford.” He paused. “I’m calling in regard to Kara Dawkins. Yeah. Well, apparently she’s missing.”
Will nodded as the other person spoke.
“Wednesday… I know that.” He sighed. “I know that, too. No, that’s why I called. Can you try? OK, thanks.”
He hung up then looked apologetically at Charlie.