Caryn could ignore her sore throat now. A feeling of new power had replaced the weakness of her illness.
“We’re going to your appointment at the university right after school. Then, after that, we’ll get Suzanne.”
Ekhard nodded.
“Eks?”
He kept his gaze forward. “Yeah?”
“We’ll take care of it. We’re family. We’ll take care of her together.”
CHAPTER 51
MORGAN
Metro Homicide buzzed with activity that morning. The noise level in the room was higher than normal. In the days surrounding the holidays the number of violent crimes rose.
When Rob called, Morgan hoped he wanted to go out. Or come over later. She needed the distraction. That notion fell in the gutter when he growled, “Stan? How the fuck could you, Mo?”
She hadn’t spoken to Rob since she’d gotten Stan suspended. “What do you mean?”
Rob spoke in short, clipped blurts. “Let’s see. Stan’s told, um … everyone. All the guys at the station are talking about you. Everyone in Mounted …”
“That I turned him in for abusing that girl?”
Rob shouted, “Turned him in?”
“He made her pay for his generosity with sex.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Stan has been bragging about his latest conquest. You, Morgan!”
Morgan held her phone with a shaky hand. Known to brag about his sexual experiences, Stan had spread rumors about Morgan. It was his revenge. Blood the color of shame rose to her cheeks. “What did he say?”
“He says that you invited him over. That he stayed all night.”
“It never happened. Stan is a liar.”
“Why is he telling everyone you’re such a good lay?”
When Rob stopped to give her the opportunity to speak, Morgan cringed about the truth. “Because I followed him. I spied on him to get access to a case.” She talked fast, as every word counted. It was her word against Stan’s, and everything was on the line. “You know how I feel about that slimeball.”
“He said you invited him over,” Rob argued.
“It’s not true.”
Morgan sat down in her desk chair. Nearby, Donnie peeked at her over the stacks on his desk. “Rob, I would never …” I didn’t mean to hurt you. “He’s a liar, Rob. And he’s trying to get back at me.”
Rob breathed into the phone, silent.
Morgan didn’t feel bad about Stan. She had ordered Chinese food and celebrated the night she took Jenny’s files home. The cloying smell hadn’t even cleared from the house when Morgan found out the truth. That she’d been wrong about Jenny. And she’d gone about it in a way that made her feel icky. After the meeting in the diner, Morgan had taken three showers. Yet she couldn’t wash the disgusting, slime coating her body because she felt like a bad person.
Now, she wondered how a relationship with Rob could last with the level of distrust he had just shown. Perhaps she’d been looking for an excuse. God, he was such a nice guy. It broke her heart to do what she was about to do. She sat in her desk chair and tucked her knees up to her chest. “Rob…”
“I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“I can’t go on like this.”
Confusion clouded his tone. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know.” Is this what I want? Morgan struggled with her feelings.
“Mo. Don’t back out on me again. Let’s talk this out tonight.”
If they did, she would give in. And Morgan needed to remain strong. She was afraid of committing to him. Afraid of loving him. This was as good an opportunity as any.
“I’m on my way. We’ll talk in person.”
“Please don’t. I need space.”
“I don’t understand. I’m sorry I thought…”
Morgan leaned back in the chair, one arm around her knees, the other with the phone pressed against her ear. Things had been going well. There was no denying that. Yet she heard herself saying, “I don’t love you.”
It wasn’t true. The ache in her heart after saying those words confirmed it.
Rob was silent.
She whispered, “I don’t want to string you along anymore.”
“So be it then,” he said.
Both remained silent on the line. Morgan waited.
“Fine. I’ll give you the space you need. Call me if you change your mind. But don’t expect me to be there for you when you do.” His tone was firm.
“I’m sorry.”
“Save it. See you around.” Rob hung up.
Morgan lost her grip on the phone and let it fall onto her desk.
With her desk facing Donnie’s, she had an unobstructed view. Donnie appeared to have been listening in to her conversation with Rob. He stood up and gathered his things together. “Take the weekend, Morgan. Get your head together.”
The world closed in on her. The last thing she wanted was for Donnie to come down on her. “Donnie …” Morgan couldn’t feel any worse. She had been making some bad decisions lately and she knew it.
He put a hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “This will be over soon. Go home and get some sleep.”
CHAPTER 52
MORGAN: 16 Years Ago
“All right, listen up, people!” A uniformed police officer held a megaphone up to his mouth. “Here’s how this will work.”
About fifty people faced the officer, who was standing beside a fire truck. Service professionals and EMTs remained in waiting, just in case they found Fay Ramsey. Near the truck was a poster-sized photograph of her. Next to it Victoria Ramsey huddled under an oversized black umbrella.
Low-hanging clouds leaked a fine mist that seemed to soak the world. It was as if Mother Nature held a giant spray bottle to coat the city in wet, dewy droplets.
Where are you, Fay?
At the back of the crowd, Morgan held her navy-blue jacket tightly wrapped around her body. Because her jacket hood blocked everything on the periphery, tunnel vision was her point of view.
Where are you Fay? Get your ass back here. Can’t you see what a scene you’ve caused? Morgan didn’t even hear the officer.
On the way there, she had watched throngs of university students walking over the footbridge toward the IU campus. I should be one of them, she thought. Fay and I should both be attending classes today.
Fall semester classes had begun, but Morgan didn’t move into the dorms. Not yet, not without Fay. Two weeks had passed since Fay went missing.
A blur of thoughts ran through Morgan’s mind as she tried to fit together the last days before Fay disappeared. Victoria had pointed fingers, telling police that Morgan knew where Fay had gone. It wasn’t true. If Morgan had known for sure that Fay had come here to meet Larry, she would have told them. If she’d known Fay was dating someone else, Morgan would have told them. Wouldn’t she?
Morgan had suggested this park because it was one place Fay loved. She was happiest here, walking on the path beside Jackson Creek, sitting on rocks or downed trees with a book in her hand and her headphones on. Morgan felt sick to her stomach when she thought of Jackson Creek Trail, so she mentioned it to the investigators. It was just a guess.
As grief wore her down, anger crept into Morgan’s mind. What had Fay kept from her? Jealousy had become part of that emotional cocktail too. How could Fay want to be with anyone but me?
Morgan wasn’t listening to the instructions from the police officer. His voice boomed, bringing her back to the living. “Are there any questions?”
Four or five hands went up.
Yes, I have a question, Morgan thought. Why are we doing this? Fay is alive. Fay will come back as soon as she realizes how pointless the drama is.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Jeremy nudged her with his elbow.
“We’ll find her. She’s alive. I think she’s run away from her mom, that’s all,” Morgan spouted her auto-reply.
Jeremy had dodged work to be with her. “Yes, but you don’t have
to do this if you don’t want to. I can take you home.” He gripped her arm and ducked into Morgan’s limited, restricted view. His scruffy, unshaven face and long, grunge-style haircut were wet with dewy raindrops.
Aware that her hands and jacket were also wet from the continuous spray, Morgan whispered, “I’ll find her. I have to find Fay.”
The officer continued his instructions. “Form groups of two or three. Stay within visual distance of the groups flanking you. The fog is thick today.”
“Stay with me then,” Jeremy said.
“In her journal, Fay had written she was meeting Larry. She’s probably still with him. God, I wish she would stop this charade.” Morgan lowered her head.
Split in two, the groups moved from the swing sets at Sherwood Oaks Park toward the wide Jackson Creek Trail. Parallel to Jackson Creek on the western side was the long walking path and a park named after the creek. The path was ten to twenty feet from the creek’s edge due to woods along the water.
Residents of the area used the park for recreation, jogging, bicycling, and relaxing. This time of the year, it was common to see families lying in the grass with books open wide, dogs chasing Frisbees, runners training, and cyclists speeding past. However, the fog and rainy weather had forced most inside. The only people here today were walking with the search group.
A few steps ahead of Morgan, Jeremy had his hands in his pockets and his head tucked low against the drizzle. When they reached the trail, officers leading their group peeled off to the right.
“All right, everyone. Split up here. I want you to stay within six feet of your neighbor because of the fog. Together, we’ll cover more ground.”
At the front of the group, Victoria Ramsey’s black umbrella bumbled forward.
Jeremy turned around. “Are we going over by the water?”
The shroud of dense fog intensified sounds of the creek churning on the other side of dense brush.
“Yes.” Morgan knew the creek’s edge. Numerous times this past summer she and Fay had walked this trail together. They had sat beside the water and smoked pot in broad daylight under the shelter of the brush. Led by familiarity, Morgan’s feet tripped ahead, one in front of the other. Jeremy followed.
“Dimitri, huh?” Morgan hadn’t believed Fay was covering for someone at work that day. A broken record of their last conversation played over and over.
“Where are you really going?”
“Work. Like I said.”
“I thought your mom didn’t let you work the night shift at The Hamburger Stand.”
“Today she did.”
Victoria strictly enforced curfews. She would never have let Fay go out alone after five o’clock. Victoria blamed Morgan, and Morgan blamed herself.
I should have been more responsible. I should have asked her, “Who is Larry, Fay? Are you dating him?”
The guy Fay wouldn’t talk about. Fay had probably run off with this guy named Larry. The guy who no one could find. Morgan’s face reheated with anger and regret.
Sporadic drips from the trees above fell on Morgan’s hood. Beneath her feet, the grass and rocky ground were soggy from last night’s downpour. Closer now, she could see the edge of the creek.
“I’m right beside you,” Jeremy said.
Thick fog made it impossible to see ten feet ahead through the trees. Fay has run away. She is alive, Morgan thought.
“Keep moving. Everyone keep moving. Make sure you can see your neighbor.” The officer shouted from an unseen location in the fog to her left.
In soaking-wet rubber-tipped high-tops, Morgan stepped onward, pushing the dripping brush out of her way. To her right, the foamy water lapped the muddy ground. To her left, wet Jeremy in his dark-gray sweatshirt tangled with bushes and tree limbs.
Heavy brush, a few bent trees, and thick undergrowth loomed on her right. Jeremy closed the distance between them and came up behind her.
Branches tugged at Morgan’s clothing as if trying to keep her from something. At one point, when she had to step into the rocky creek bed, cold water filled her shoes and soaked her pant legs.
Jeremy took her arm.
“Hey, neighbors, where are you?” a woman’s disembodied voice hollered through the trees.
“On the water’s edge,” Jeremy shouted back.
“Okay, I see you now.” A woman in a purple raincoat waved.
The watery smells were thicker now, more pungent than ever. Among the odors of wet, rotting vegetation and general river scum, Morgan caught a whiff of something else.
“Oh man. What is that?” Jeremy asked.
Morgan made her way to higher ground, stepping on a boulder to get out of the creek. When a branch caught her jacket, it threw her off balance. As she pulled away, the thorny bramble tore it. “Shit,” she cursed under her breath. Turning to examine her damaged jacket, a bright, unnatural color on the ground caught her eye.
“God, what is that smell?” Jeremy asked again.
It took Morgan’s brain a few seconds to register the familiarity of the yellow object. One of Fay’s yellow high-tops lay there covered with mud. Its match lay on its side a foot away.
“Oh God!” Jeremy exclaimed. He grabbed Morgan’s arm and shouted something she didn’t hear over the sound of rushing blood in her ears.
Attached to those yellow shoes were Fay’s unnaturally pale legs. Mud covered her crumpled skirt. She wore a jean jacket over her blouse, but it, too, was drenched and filthy dirty.
“Fay,” Morgan whispered. You must be cold, she thought. Strength left her legs, and she dropped to her knees beside her friend. “Why are you out in the rain?” The desire to care for her friend, to mother and protect her from harm, filled Morgan’s heart. “Let’s get you inside.” She reached for Fay’s hand and found, instead, a shattered and broken appendage.
I’m so sorry …
Heavy rain the night before had washed the damaged, bloated flesh clean. Vague awareness registered in Morgan that Fay’s face was smashed beyond recognition. Morgan brushed Fay’s wet hair out of the dark hole that had been her nose. “What happened to you?”
Jeremy lifted Morgan up and carried her away from the body, but she struggled against him.
“Stop it!” Morgan cried out, kicking her brother, fighting to remain with her friend. “Fay!” She wanted to remain by her side. “I’m sorry, Fay!”
“Come on, let’s go. She’s dead, Mo.” Jeremy held Morgan by the waist and dragged her backward.
“No—she’s not! Let me go!” With all her might, she struggled against her strong brother, but Jeremy didn’t let her go. Tears streamed down her face. “I want to see Fay. Let me talk to her!” Morgan cried.
Jeremy stood strong, holding her in place until the police and other professionals came running out of the fog to surround Fay’s lifeless body.
CHAPTER 53
CARYN
Christmas lights gleamed on the wet pavement. Happy people hurried, ducking away from the wet, slushy mix raining from the sky. Couples, dressed up and decorated like the packages they carried, ran from their cars to the warm, well-lit Rapture at 86 West Hotel.
Mack’s holiday party for hotel employees had been scheduled early this year, the weekend after Thanksgiving. With the approaching season, he and Erin planned a long December trip to the Florida Keys. He had told Caryn it was over between them. That was impossible.
Caryn admired the decorated Japanese maples on either side of the entrance. Well-practiced at changing clothes in the car, she slid out of her camouflage pants and athletic shoes, careful of the scabs on both of her palms. At least Ekhard had only pushed her. He could have done far worse. She peeled the black Under Armor over her head without mussing up her hair. As she switched to high heels and a skin-tight party dress, she thought about Erin. Mack talked about her a lot lately. I can’t wait to meet her.
She placed sport trainers sole to sole and put them with her clothes in a medium-sized trash bag. The bag with the shoes fit inside her arm
y-green carryall, which she tucked into the trunk of her car.
Behind a revolving glass door, heavy helpings of glam decorated the Rapture at 86 West. Gold glitz and white lights hung from the Christmas tree in the center of the lobby. A centerpiece in a snowy-white vase held white lilies and pine boughs sprayed with gold glitter.
Since she had not been invited, Caryn had to ask the red-coated attendant at the front desk where the party was. “I’m with the Mackintoshes,” she explained.
“Go up in the elevator to the third-floor dining room. You’ll hear the party before you see it.”
As the elevator slowed, it thumped to the beat of the music. The doors opened to a party in full swing. People filled the dance floor or stood in groups around the bar. Employees of the hotel and guests sat at tables covered in white linen, sipping drinks and finishing their dinners. “Jingle Bell Rock” blared from a stack of speakers.
In the coatroom, Caryn shed her outer layer. Under her jacket she wore a striking, low-cut black number with just the right amount of lacy trim added at the V cut to draw the eye.
She threaded her way through the loud, crowded room, unable to find an empty bar table or unoccupied stool away from the bartender, Erin. So she changed her mind and walked boldly up to her, knowing she wouldn’t be recognized.
“I thought I knew all the employees here, but I haven’t met you.” A tall brunette with soft brown eyes, Erin wore a red sleeveless top showing off muscular biceps. She had a smile as wide and friendly as Christmas morning.
Caryn reached across the bar for a handshake. “I’m Caryn. We haven’t met. I’m in accounting.” I’m not lying.
Erin took Caryn’s hand in both of hers. “So nice to meet you. What are you drinking tonight?”
Caryn pulled away. “Bourbon on the rocks.”
“Are you having a good time? Did you enjoy the food?”
Some women were like that, mothering others. To Caryn, it felt like being smothered with a cold, wet blanket.
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