I scrawl the name Claire out on the notepad. While I’m guessing she had nothing to do with Emily’s disappearance, she might have been the last person to see her after me. She can confirm whether Emily made it in to that audition room. She might even know what happened after.
Because there’s the strong possibility that something stopped her from going in. I think of the excuse Joanne-as-Emily gave for disappearing—of her getting a phone call about an injured boyfriend—and while I know it’s just a story she came up with on the spot, it’s entirely plausible that a phone call did drag the real Emily away. An urgent call that would require immediate attention. My eyes flick to her phone on the table.
I know exactly when she disappeared, so all I’d need to do is check the last call before then. Emily even told me she was expecting a call after her audition. Perhaps that call came early.
I pick up her phone and gingerly tap the screen. A passcode keypad appears.
I stare at the screen hopelessly, my own blank expression reflected back at me. I have no idea what her code might be and I’m guessing there’s no way to bypass it. I scrabble over to my own bag on the couch opposite and pull out my phone. I google bypass iPhone locked screen.
A couple of hokey videos about unlocking come up. I watch one until it becomes obvious it’s nonsense then head directly to the Apple website instead.
The website tells me it is possible to bypass the locked screen but if I do that it will wipe the whole phone. Which obviously is the exact opposite of what I want to do. There’s also an option of trying to retrieve her call log through iCloud on her laptop, and for a moment my heart skips a beat, but as I read on it becomes clear I would need her iCloud password to do that—which I also do not have.
That only leaves trying to guess the six-digit number and I’m reminded of a horror movie I once watched where the hero, needing to open a stranger’s phone, simply holds it up to the light; as he tilts it we see the fingerprint traces of a code on the phone screen. Then he traces the fingermarks and the screen opens. Easy-peasy.
Apprehensive, I raise Emily’s iPhone screen toward the light and tilt it.
The screen is a mess of indecipherable finger smears impossible to read. I console myself with the fact that though I can’t open it, I can hand it over to the police tomorrow. Perhaps they’ll have a way of accessing her call log that I don’t. But the idea that I might never know if they do spurs me on in a different direction.
I put the phone to one side and spin around her laptop. I might not be able to see her call log but I know I can read her iMessages from her computer.
I take a breath and depress the power button, praying that, now charged, it still works.
The screen flares to life. I inhale sharply as the Apple symbol appears and then opens onto her home screen. No password protection. I let out a little cheer in the silence of the apartment and allow myself another slug of cold beer as I watch the desktop icons load.
Emily’s desktop settles. It’s a mess, crammed with script files, self-tape thumbnails, and casting breakdowns. Compared with my relatively ordered laptop, Emily’s is enough to break me out in hives.
I click on the iMessage icon on the dock and for the first time something actually works. All of Emily’s text messages appear on the screen.
21
Not the First Time
SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13
The application opens showing Emily’s text chains to the left. Names I do not recognize, the people in her life unknown to me. At the top are the people she was in contact with recently, the people who should have noticed that she’s not around anymore.
I see my own number, second from the top, replying that I’ll be over in an hour.
Above it another message, received this evening, and its conversation chain opens up filling most of the screen—the contact name is Dad.
My stomach flips. I hesitate, unsure if I should read on. Up until now it hadn’t occurred to me that her family might already be looking for her. Officer Cortez didn’t mention anything like that on the phone. If Emily’s disappearance had already been reported she would have mentioned it unless, I suppose, it was reported in a different state. I scroll up to the last reply Emily made on Wednesday before she disappeared.
Weds Feb 10, 12:04pm
Sorry I missed your call. Just heading to a casting, I’ll call when I can.
No worries. Lemme know how it goes. And…break a leg?
Yesterday, 8:17am
Hope the audition went well?? Any news on the big one?
Yesterday, 7:43pm
Tried to call. Know you’re busy. I’m watching the game tonight so I’ll try you tomorrow. I want to hear about that big job.
Today, 6:49pm
Everything going good? You’re probably driving. Call me back xx
What job is he talking about? She must have been waiting to hear back about something. Curious, I scroll further up the conversation to find out more, roll back as far as January before I notice something odd. I stop scrolling abruptly.
To my surprise there’s another large gap in the conversation between her and her father. A gap where she didn’t reply to any of his messages for almost a week between the sixth and the twelfth of January. So Emily’s gone missing before.
The days preceding the gap read:
Fri Jan 1, 12:04am
Happy New Year honey! Hope it’s a good one
Sat Jan 2, 11:27am Sorry for not calling New Year’s Eve honey. It got a bit out of hand at the bar. D’ya have a good one? Love ya kiddo xx Love you too dad. Yeah, sorry, things are a bit crazy here right now too. Talk soon No worries. Don’t work too hard. Call me when you can Mon Jan 4, 3:15pm
Things calmed down yet? Lol! You still hanging out with Marla? You guys have fun over New Year? It’s good to know you got company out there.
Yeah, she’s fun. Listen dad, I don’t want to jinx it but there’s this big job, and it’s kind of out of the blue. It’s a big part, it could change everything. Anyway, I’m gonna find out by the end of this week. If it comes through I’ll head back home to celebrate before it all starts x That’s such great news honey. I’d love to see you either way. Let me know when you might be coming back home & I’ll book some days off work. We’ll do some stuff Weds Jan 6, 08:02am
They’re letting me know this evening…I’ll keep you posted. Dad, this could be so good!! Can’t wait to tell you x
That’s the last text she sends before the six-day gap. Again the job is mentioned, and I can’t help feeling that’s relevant. To disappear on the exact same day you’re expecting to hear life-changing news has to be more than a coincidence.
Receiving bad news could definitely explain her sudden absence. My eyes instinctively flick toward the living room window to the sign I know hides behind the heavy drawn curtains, and I think again of the actress who jumped from it. People kill themselves over bad news.
And yet Emily couldn’t have heard she’d lost the job because she was still talking about hearing a month later. Something else must have happened that day. I scan back up the messages and note down the name Marla, the friend her father mentions, on my pad. It’s the name on the back of the photograph I took from Emily’s apartment too. They were obviously close. It might be worth trying to contact her, I’m sure she will have noticed Emily’s disappearance by now. She might even have an idea where Emily is.
I read on. After the six-day gap Emily starts responding to her father’s texts again:
Tues Jan 12, 2:54pm
Sorry for the radio silence! Things got a little complicated, but the good news is I’m fine and that job I was telling you about is still looking good. So, fingers crossed. Apparently, I have to wait until they cast the male lead to get my contract offer X
Em-Em. It’s great to hear from you! Got a bit worried when I couldn’t get hold of you. That does all sound complicated but I’ve got everything crossed for you. And let me know about dates to book off work. Looking forward to seeing you.
Weds Jan 13, 12:56am
Probably not going to get the chance to fly back and see you before the job starts, dad. If it even happens. Sorry x Weds Jan 13, 7:04am