“I’ll bet you anything,” Nicole said, “that you were one in a long line of girls. You weren’t the first. And you weren’t the last.”
Listening to her friends was like opening the door to a room that had been closed off for years, and filling it with sunlight and fresh air. Looking back, Allison saw how lonely and vulnerable she had been. And how expertly Mr. Engels had manipulated her. Had Senator Fairview done the same thing to Katie?
Allison vowed again to get justice for Katie Converse. No matter what it took.
MARK O. HATFIELD UNITED STATES COURTHOUSE
December 24
Allison Pierce,” Allison said in a distracted tone. The office was beginning to empty out as people left early to celebrate Christmas Eve.
But Katie had been missing for eleven days, and Allison felt she couldn’t ease up. Line by line, she was still paging through the dozens and dozens of pages from Senator Fairview’s trap and trace. They had gotten information for the phones in his Portland home, his DC apartment, and his office on Capitol Hill, as well as for his personal cell. Three months’ worth, beginning with the day Katie started as a Senate page and ending now. The resulting stack of paper was nearly four inches thick. Just trying to read the tiny lines of type was giving Allison a headache.
Only silence had answered her greeting, so she repeated, “This is Allison Pierce,” in a sharper tone.
“Ally?” The voice was that of a child, but it wasn’t really a kid. Just her kid sister.
“Lindsay,” she said warily. How long had it been since she had heard from her sister? Two months? Three? “What’s wrong?” There was always something wrong.
“I screwed up.” Through the phone line she could hear Lindsay gulping back tears.
“What happened?” Pushing down her impatience, she resisted adding this time.
When their dad had died and their mother had gone to pieces, Allison had shouldered the burden of being the adult, even if she was only sixteen. Lindsay had gone a little crazy. It was Marshall who had gently pointed out that, in a way, Allison and her mother had welcomed Lindsay’s problems. By focusing on Lindsay, they could temporarily forget that their father and husband was dead.
“I’m in Tennessee, I think,” Lindsay said. “Or maybe Alabama.”
“What are you doing there?” Allison asked. Exhaustion crashed over her like a wave. She didn’t have the energy to deal with Lindsay. Not on top of everything else.
“I met someone new.”
On the surface that was good news. Allison hated Chris, Lindsay’s most recent boyfriend.
“So how did you end up in Alabama? Or wherever you are?”
“This guy’s a long-haul trucker. But it didn’t work out. And now, now I don’t have anything. All my stuff is still in his truck. And I think I sprained my ankle jumping out of it.”
Allison rubbed her temple. “So where are you exactly? Are you some-place safe?”
“I’m at a gas station. Look, could you put some money in my checking account? I just want to come home. Home for Christmas. Wouldn’t that be great, Ally? Like old times.”
Allison was long past falling for an idea like that. Give Lindsay some money, and it would more than likely go up her nose or down her throat. At least those were the only places Allison hoped it would go. Please, God, not in her arm. Lindsay chased after a high so hard that if she used IV drugs it wouldn’t be long before she started sharing needles to save time and ended up with hepatitis C or HIV.
“Look, Linds. Get to the nearest airport, figure out what city you’re in, give me a call, and I’ll arrange a ticket for you.”
“Yeah, sure,” her sister said sullenly. “I knew you wouldn’t help me. I call you on Christmas Eve, Christmas Eve, and you turn me away.”
“I will help you, Lindsay, but I won’t give you cash. We both know why.”
“How am I supposed to even get to the airport? I don’t have the money for a cab. I don’t even have the money for a bus.”
Allison sighed. Tomorrow was Christmas, after all. And if Lindsay really did show up, it would make a better present for their mother than the Este Lauder perfume and the book about the Civil War Allison had already bought her.
“I’ll put fifty dollars in your account, but that’s it. And then you call me as soon as you’re at the airport, okay? And I’ll buy you a ticket.”
“Oh, thank you, Ally! Thank you! I will, I will. Merry Christmas! I’ll call you soon, and I’ll see you tomorrow!” She hung up before Allison could even say good-bye.
How long would it be before she heard from Lindsay again?