The Night She Went Missing by Kristen Bird

Author:Kristen Bird
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hachette Headline Review
Published: 2021-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

19

Late April

Catherine

After all of the teenagers and their parents left, Catherine finally made her way out of the police station. She and Rosalyn had watched the questionings together behind the one-way glass, the older woman tutting and shaking her head and generally driving Catherine crazy. Whitey debriefed with the two women for an hour afterward, only to finally conclude by saying, As you can see, we still don’t really know anything new.

Carter was at home with the twins, and as Catherine drove in that direction, thinking back over the not-quite-confessional words she’d heard, she decided that she had one last stop to make. She had unfinished business.

When she showed up at Morgan’s loft, Catherine knew she must look awful with her stringy hair and red eyes, but she’d already run into Morgan that evening and frankly, Catherine didn’t care. She couldn’t remember when she’d last showered or ironed clothes or put on makeup, none of those simple actions that once seemed routine and necessary. She hadn’t seen her daughter in weeks, and that evening through the glass she’d watched each pathetic interview going nowhere. It was like watching a failed conductor, the instruments playing random notes.

Whiteside was supposed to find out what happened to her daughter. He was supposed to find out whether or not Alex Frasier was to blame, but Catherine would no longer leave this up to the police. She used the building’s entry code that Morgan had given her months ago, took the elevator to the top floor, and began knocking frantically at her door.

Morgan answered, her eyes squinting into the hallway light. Catherine had no idea what time it was, didn’t know how long she’d listened to Rosalyn rant to Chief Whiteside and Officer Cortez.

“Catherine?”

“Can I come in?”

Morgan opened the door. As if she had nothing to hide. “It’s practically the middle of the night.”

“Is it?” Catherine looked around the apartment. She’d been here several times in the past—to drop off a book, to pick up Morgan for dinner, to go with her for a walk around the Strand. “I need to speak to Alex,” she said, starting toward his room.

“He’s sleeping.”

“I know he’s sleeping,” Catherine said, stopping. “The entire damn island is sleeping, but I need to see him. Now.”

Morgan stepped in front of her. “All right, but let me wake him up first.”

A few moments later a kid-man, rubbing his eyes with balled fists and stretching his back to his nearly six-and-a-half-foot frame, sauntered into the living room. “Mrs. Callahan?”

Catherine hadn’t mentally rehearsed her next move. She’d been too eager to get here, to find out the truth. She looked down at her phone, opened the picture of the letter she’d pieced together and shoved it in his face. Something Whitey wouldn’t do. Be patient, he’d kept saying. She was done being patient.

“What is this? Who wrote it?”

Alex took the phone and read the words slowly before handing the image off to his mom, his eyes pleading for her to fix this for him. Not this time, Catherine thought as she waited, the tension tightening her chest.

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