Someone Must Die

A knot formed in Aubrey’s throat. It had been a favorite song of Aubrey and Mama’s—“My Hero Knight.” She remembered how her mother’s face would change when she listened to the lyrics. It occurred to her only now that for her mother, the song had been about Dad.

“He looks like a movie star,” Aubrey said. “Was he in costume for something?”

“That’s how he dressed back then. Back in the late sixties, everyone was playing some part.” Her mother rubbed her left hand with her right one, as though feeling for the wedding band she had once worn. “I never met a man as charismatic as he was.”

Aubrey studied the photo. He had once been a hero—to Aubrey and her mother. And she realized she and her mother had been attracted to the same kind of charismatic men. “I’m sorry, Mama.”

“Sorry? About what?”

“That he hurt you so much.”

“It was my fault as much as his. I changed a lot more than he did.” She took another photo out of the box. “Look at this one.”

Aubrey examined the second photo. It was of both her parents. How beautiful her mother was! Long dark hair framing her heart-shaped face, large brown eyes filled with light. Her parents had their arms around each other’s waists. Behind them in the distance was a large crowd, a lake, and trees with red-and-orange leaves. Mama was smiling. No—it was more like she was laughing. Aubrey couldn’t recall ever seeing such pure joy on her face.

“It was taken the day we fell in love,” Mama said.

The nagging feeling in her gut was back. It didn’t make sense that her mother was sitting here reminiscing and looking at old photos when they both needed to figure out who’d taken Ethan.

Unless she was looking for something in the photos.

Aubrey picked one up from the top of the pile. “Who are they?”

“Friends. The one with the glasses was my roommate.”

Three very pretty young women holding up two fingers in the 1960s symbol for peace. They were all roughly the same height, but otherwise very different. Her mother was in the middle, smiling broadly, her dark brown hair loose on her shoulders. The girl to her left was blonde and meek-looking. The girl to her mother’s right had a muted smile and a strong chin. She wore wire-rim glasses with pink lenses, and her black hair fell in a single braid across her embroidered white blouse. With her other hand, she fingered the rectangular shape on her necklace.

“Your roommate looks awfully intense.”

“She was.”

“What’s she holding? It seems very dear to her.”

“Her brother’s dog tag,” her mother said. “She never took it off, even when she showered.”

“Did you stay in touch with either of these women?”

Her mother stiffened, then took the photo out of Aubrey’s hand. “No. We lost touch.” She dropped the photo into the box and put the lid on.

End of subject.

But for Aubrey, something was opening up. These girls, or something else in the box, might have a connection to Ethan’s disappearance. At least, that was what she was certain her mother believed.

Why else would she be looking at these photos?

Aubrey wasn’t buying that it was because of nostalgia. Unfortunately, it was also clear to her that Mama wasn’t ready to share.

“I’m going to the hotel to check on Kevin and Kim,” Aubrey said. She knew her mother wouldn’t be comfortable going into Simmer territory herself. “Will you be okay?”

“Yes, of course.” Mama held the small box tightly against her, as though she were protecting it, or its secrets.

Aubrey left the room, wondering what secrets could possibly be worth protecting when Ethan’s life was at stake?





CHAPTER 21

She held the small box tightly against her. It had been a reflex to grab the photo from Aubrey, but Diana knew it would serve no purpose to tell her daughter about that time of her life.

She took the lid off and went through the photos one more time, lingering on the one of her with Gertrude and Linda. She had forgotten how close the three of them had been at the beginning of freshman year. Before things changed.

She put the photos back in the box, trying to ignore the small white envelope, yellowed with age, but finally gave in to the nagging sensation and slid the card out of the envelope. It had accompanied a dozen roses sent to her dorm room the day after the Central Park antiwar demonstration.

Diana studied the cursive writing, similar to his careful script once he became a lawyer, but stronger and more determined, as he had once been.



D-Our love is stronger than the pain. Love, L-



Maybe that had been true once, but not anymore.

She put the card back in the envelope, stuck it between the photos, then tucked the box back into the old blue suitcase where she had kept it all these years. It wasn’t a hiding place, exactly—or was it? But if she’d been hiding the box, it had been to keep the memories from herself.

She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, shivering with the memory of her bare midriff on that chilly night.




The brownstone belonged to a freshman named Michael Shernovsky, who had recently joined Stormdrain. Although belonged wasn’t quite the right word. The building was owned by Michael’s parents, who were letting him live there with a couple of roommates. It was on the border of East Harlem and Morningside Heights. But if Michael had told people that, many of them might not come—the whiteys who attended Columbia weren’t big favorites in the black community. At least, that was what Lawrence said when he explained about the Halloween party they were going to.

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