By the time they drove away from the Rectify Megachurch, it was nearly seven thirty in the evening. Josie’s body ached and her eyes burned from exhaustion. She knew they should go home and get some proper rest, but all she could think about was Amber. What if Amber was alive and being held somewhere like Eden had been? Every moment meant something. Although she knew they’d have to sleep at some point, Josie wasn’t ready to call it a day. As Noah navigated around all the street closures, Josie said, “Let’s go to Mettner’s house.”
“You got it,” said Noah. “Speaking of Mett, what about his phone? Find anything on there?”
“Hang on,” she said, fishing in the pockets of her coat for Mettner’s cell phone. She scrolled through it while Noah drove. Mettner’s social media platforms were hardly used at all and seemed only to exist so he could like and comment on his brothers’ wives’ posts and, judging by the number of photos of his nieces and nephews that he liked and commented on, to keep up with their lives. One photo showed two young boys, Josie estimated between seven and ten, out fishing with one of Mettner’s brothers over the summer, each one holding up a trout, wide, toothy smiles splitting their faces. Mettner had commented: They’re getting so big! Great catch! Tell them Uncle Finn will take them ice fishing in the winter! Below that, his brother had replied with a thumbs-up emoji followed by a smile emoji and the words: They can’t wait to see you again. You should take them for the whole winter. LOL. Then their mother, judging by her name, commented: This momma bear is keeping her cubs all year round! But they do miss you, Uncle Finn! She ended it with a heart emoji.
There were only a handful of photos of Mettner and Amber on his page, but he hardly ever posted, so Josie was not surprised. There were, however, hundreds of photos of Amber and the two of them together on his phone. Josie scrolled and scrolled. Amber at Komorrah’s Koffee; Amber in the city park; Amber at Mettner’s house—in his living room, kitchen, bedroom, even brushing her teeth and wearing a tiny silk pajama set. In the bathroom picture, Mettner stood behind her, bare-chested, both of them caught in the mirror. Amber smiled suggestively at him even as she brushed her teeth. Josie swiped quickly past it, again feeling like a voyeur. There were more photos of things they’d done together: fishing, hiking, attending a Fall Festival, a concert, Josie and Noah’s wedding. There were photos of them at Mettner’s family Christmas from the year before and this year’s Thanksgiving.
“I don’t think you’ve ever had this many photos of me on your phone,” Josie mused.
Noah glanced at her, smiling. “I’ve been obsessed with you since I was fourteen years old, Josie. I’ve got pictures.”
She laughed and swatted his shoulder. “Don’t be creepy. But seriously, at what point does this go from love to… obsession?”
“Unhealthy obsession?” Noah asked.
“I don’t know,” Josie sighed. She kept swiping. “She looks so damn happy in all of these photos.”
“Maybe she’s got just as many pictures of him on her phone. We haven’t been able to look at it yet.”
“Or maybe she just smiled for pictures, and she was thinking of leaving him. Maybe that’s what they fought about, and he didn’t take it well and then something bad happened?”
Noah didn’t answer.
Josie closed out the photo gallery app and opened Mettner’s email. Most of it was work-related. The only personal emails were from his brothers about buying a joint Christmas gift for their parents. There were weeks of text messages between Amber and Mett, most of them sweet and saccharine. Some were suggestive. Others had to do with whose place they were staying at that night or where they were going to eat. At the end, from Sunday morning through Monday afternoon, were numerous texts from Mettner to Amber with no response from her at all. No red flags. Nothing useful. With another sigh, Josie closed out of the texting app and put the phone back in her pocket. “Nothing,” she said.
“You should be happy about that,” Noah said. “I don’t think any of us wants Mett to be some kind of…”
She knew he couldn’t bring himself to say murderer. “Monster,” she filled in.
“Right.”
Again, she heard Gretchen’s voice in the back of her head: what if he erased anything questionable from his phone before he gave it to you?
“This is it,” said Noah.
They pulled up in front of Mettner’s house. They’d both been there before, whether it was to pick Mettner up for a shift or the occasional barbecue or other get-together. He lived on the edge of the city, on a rural road. His sizeable driveway led to a modest three-bedroom house with gray siding and maroon shutters. The spacious porch was filled with rustic wooden furniture. Mettner had a few acres behind the house, part of which was wooded. There was no garage, but Mettner had built a carport under which he kept a four-wheeler and a small boat, covered in tarps for the winter. The headlights of Noah’s vehicle flashed across both of them as they parked next to the house.
Josie unlocked the door and let them in, flicking on lights as they went from room to room. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was invading Mettner’s privacy. Even though he’d given them permission, it still felt wrong. But she knew it was all in the service of finding out what had happened to Amber and hopefully, her sister as well, so she pushed her guilt away as they moved through the house, searching for anything amiss.
Mettner’s home was the opposite of Amber’s. Every room seemed overcrowded with furniture. A crumpled fleece blanket sat in the corner of his puffy brown couch. A pair of men’s slippers sat under the coffee table. A pair of women’s slippers were tucked neatly in the downstairs closet. Framed photos of Mettner’s family adorned every room. In one corner of the kitchen was a mess of fishing rods leaned against the wall. In the living and dining rooms, plain wooden crosses hung from the walls.
Evidence of Amber was everywhere: a travel coffee mug that matched her desk set sat in the draining board. A pink robe lay across one of the recliners in the living room. Two issues of Cosmopolitan magazine sat on the coffee table. A sweater that Josie had seen her wear at work on multiple occasions was on the back of one of the dining room chairs. Upstairs, the bathroom counter was cluttered with toiletries that clearly belonged to a woman. There were feminine hygiene products in the bathroom closet next to a basket that contained a hair dryer, hair straightener, and round brush with strands of auburn hair in its teeth.