The Drowning Girls (Detective Josie Quinn #13)

“You don’t think that’s it?” asked Mettner.

“Can’t be,” Noah said. He leaned forward in his chair and plucked a piece of cheese from the meat and cheese tray Lamay had left for them, popping it into his mouth.

“He’s right,” said Josie. “If he’d committed adultery, I think he would just come out and say that. Why not?”

“Because if you outright say it, people can get pissed at you. The whole ‘atonement’ thing can backfire,” Mettner said. He waved the book in the air. “This is just vague enough that it won’t make people so disgusted with him that his career would be ruined.”

Noah shook his head. “Think about what he said, Mett. Inappropriate. A stain on his soul. Taking advantage. Gratifying only himself. Moral obligations.”

“Could all apply to adultery,” Mettner said.

“You’re both missing the major tell,” Josie said. “Let me see the book.”

Mettner handed it to her. She flipped it open to the Post-it note and ran her fingers over the text until she found the line she was looking for. “Here it is: ‘I had become entangled with someone who was not in a position to make the kinds of decisions that I made easily every day.’ Who would not be in a position to make the kinds of decisions he made easily every day?”

They both stared at her. The puzzle pieces in the back of her mind were shifting at warp speed now. “Really?” she said. “You don’t know?”

Neither of them spoke.

She tossed the book onto the desk, knocking over a plate of pigs in blankets. “A minor!” she said. “An underage girl or boy!”

Both of their faces changed as the realization dawned on them. Mettner’s features drooped, a pallor creeping into his skin. Noah made a face as though he’d eaten something sour. He said, “That’s what Hugo was talking about when he said we were looking at the wrong man.”

“What do you mean?” asked Mettner.

Josie told him about their meeting with Hugo Watts.

Noah said, “What could be worse than what Hugo did by forcing one of his daughters to falsely accuse Dr. Rafferty and then blackmailing him?”

“Actually having a sexual relationship with an underage girl,” Josie answered. Suddenly, all the food displayed before them made her nauseated.

Mettner’s voice was a croak when he said, “Oh my God, it was Amber, wasn’t it? It had to be one of them, right? Her or Eden? I mean, I guess it could be Eden, but Eden talked to him in the coffee shop. She watched all his videos. She wouldn’t do that if it was her, right? Amber hated him. She hated him so much, and she wanted me to choose her over my family because they wanted to join his stupid church. It was her, wasn’t it? He did things—he—” The words lodged in his throat. “He was going to her house to atone, wasn’t he? Except she was already gone.”

Josie stood up and guided him back to his chair. “We don’t know that for sure,” she said. “Mettner, all of this is still speculation. You understand that, right? We could be wrong about some or all of it.”

Mettner stared at his lap. A tear fell down his cheek. “But you’re not,” he whispered. “You never are.”

“Sure I am,” Josie assured him. “Listen, the most important thing right now is to find Amber. Are you listening to me?”

Noah stood and walked over, putting a palm on the back of Mettner’s neck. “Finn,” he said. “I know this is upsetting. I want to throttle this guy just as much as you do, but Josie’s right. We have a job to do. Right now, we have one focus and that’s finding Amber. The best thing you can do for her at this point is to keep it together, okay? You’ve been a huge help to us so far just by sitting here at your desk. We still need you. Are you with us?”

Mettner’s head shook slowly from side to side. He shrugged off Noah’s hand and stood up. Without looking at either of them, he rasped, “I have to get some air.”





Forty-Four





Mettner didn’t come back. Josie and Noah wrote up a few more reports and then they drove past his house to make sure he was accounted for and not off on some vigilante mission to destroy Thatcher Toland. His truck sat in the driveway. The lights glowed from his first-floor windows. Josie walked up and took a peek through one of the windows where the curtains parted just enough for her to see inside. Mettner sat on his couch, head in hands. She wanted to knock on his door and try to console him, but she knew there was nothing that any of them could say or do for him now. Except bring Amber back, and with every hour, that possibility seemed more and more remote.

Back in the car, Noah held up his phone. “Talked to the Chief. He and Gretchen are still out there overseeing the search for Gabriel. No luck. They’re talking about calling it off altogether. Called the Eudora. Hugo Watts is still there. Hasn’t left his room all day. Spoke with Hummel. His team processed Lydia Norris’s house and found nothing. The Russell Haven postcard was still there. They took it into evidence, got some prints from it but none of the prints are in AFIS.”

Josie groaned, resting her head against her seat back and closing her eyes. “Where is Amber, Noah?”

He didn’t answer. There was nothing he could say. Nothing he wanted to say out loud, she realized. If Gabriel had taken Amber, and it looked as though he had, then where would he keep her? She wasn’t at his house. He didn’t own any other property. The only alternative, it seemed, was that Amber was dead and he’d dumped her body somewhere. The thought of it made the lump in Josie’s throat grow so thick so fast, she felt like she might choke.

The snow flurries had become full-blown flakes. They fluttered down from the sky at a steady pace, unexpected beauty in a world of horror. Noah said, “The Chief wants to meet tomorrow morning at eight a.m. to go over a plan for approaching Thatcher Toland at his church tomorrow. The Christmas Eve service begins at ten a.m.”

Josie opened her eyes and waved a hand dismissively. “Fine,” she said. “We confront Toland. Tell him that we know he had an inappropriate and illegal relationship with Amber or Eden when they were underage. Even if he admits it, which he won’t, that doesn’t help us find Amber.”

“You don’t think he’s a part of this?” asked Noah. “He was seen with Eden before she died. He went to Amber’s house. He was the last person to see Lydia Norris alive.”

“You think he’s out there murdering members of the Watts family?” Josie said. “To what end? To shut them up? Keep them from exposing him? He’s already publicly admitted that he had some kind of inappropriate relationship.”

Noah said, “The statute of limitations for sexual crimes against a minor in Pennsylvania is extremely long. He’s still well within the possibility of facing criminal charges if his victim were willing to testify.”

“Eden is dead. Amber is missing. No matter which one of them it was, neither is here to testify against him. Still, I can’t see him doing the actual dirty work.”

“Then we’re back to Gabriel,” Noah said with a frustrated sigh. “As Toland’s proxy.”