Love You More: A Novel

“What if he hurt her child?”


Mrs. Ennis looked up sharply. “Oh dear Lord. You can’t mean …” She covered her mouth with her hand. “You think Brian killed Sophie? You think she’s dead? But the Amber Alert … I thought she was just missing. Maybe run off because of the confusion …”

“What confusion?”

“The news said there was an incident. Left one dead. I thought maybe there was a breakin, a struggle. Maybe Sophie ran away, to be safe.”

“Who would break in?” D.D. asked.

“I don’t know. It’s Boston. Burglars, gangsters … These things happen.”

“There’s no sign of breakin,” D.D. said quietly, giving Mrs. Ennis time to let that news settle in. “Tessa has confessed to shooting her husband. What we’re trying to determine is what led up to that event, and what happened to Sophie.”

“Oh my Lord. Oh my … Oh my …” Mrs. Ennis’s hands moved from her mouth to her eyes. Already, she had started crying. “But I never thought … Even if Brian had … lost his temper a few times, I never suspected things had gotten so bad. I mean, he went away, right? If things had gotten so bad, why didn’t she and Sophie just leave him when he was away? I would’ve helped. Surely she knew that!”

“Excellent question,” D.D. agreed softly. “Why didn’t she and Sophie just leave once he’d shipped out?”

“Sophie ever talk much about school?” Bobby spoke up. “Did she seem happy there, or have any concerns?”

“Sophie loved school. First grade. Mrs. DiPace. She’d just started reading all the Junie B. Jones novels with a little help. I mean reading, just like that. She’s a bright child. And a good girl, too. I can … I can get you the principal’s name, teachers, I have the whole school list since I dropped her off half the time. Everyone only ever has wonderful things to say about her, and oh my, just …”

Mrs. Ennis was out of her seat, walking in a tight circle before she seemed to remember what she needed to do. She crossed to a little end table next to the sofa, opened the top drawer, and started pulling out information.

“What about after-school activities?” D.D. asked.

“They had an after-school art program. Every Monday. Sophie loved that.”

“Parents volunteer as part of that?” Bobby probed.

D.D. nodded, following his train of thought. Parents who they could grind through more background checks.

Mrs. Ennis returned to them, holding several pieces of paper—a school calendar, contact information for administrative personnel, a phone tree of other parents to notify in the event of snow days.

“Can you think of anyone who might want to harm Sophie?” D.D. asked as gently as she could.

Mrs. Ennis shook her head, her face still stricken.

“If she ran away, can you think of where she’d hide?”

“In the tree,” Mrs. Ennis said immediately. “When she wanted time alone, she always climbed the big oak in the backyard. Tessa said she used to do the same thing as a child.”

Bobby and D.D. nodded. They had both studied the bare limbed tree. Six-year-old Sophie had not been perched among the branches.

“How do you get to the house?” D.D. thought to ask, as she and Bobby rose out of their chairs.

“The bus.”

“Has Sophie ever ridden it with you? Does she understand mass transit?”

“We have been on the bus. I don’t think she would know how.…” Mrs. Ennis paused, her dark eyes brightening. “But she does know her coins. The last few times we rode, she counted out the money. And she’s very adventurous. If she thought she needed to get on the bus for some reason, I could see her trying it alone.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Ennis. If you think of anything else …” D.D. handed the woman her card.

Bobby had opened the door. At the last moment, just as D.D. was exiting into the hall, Bobby turned back.

“You said another officer introduced Tessa and Brian. Do you remember who that was?”

“Oh, it was at a cookout.…” Mrs. Ennis paused, searched her memory banks. “Shane. That’s what Tessa called him. She’d gone to Shane’s house.”

Bobby thanked the woman, then followed D.D. down the stairs.

“Who’s Shane?” D.D. asked, the moment they were outside, puffing out frosty breaths of air and tugging on their gloves.

“I’m guessing Trooper Shane Lyons, out of the Framingham barracks.”

“The union rep!” D.D. stated.

“Yep. As well as the officer who made the initial call.”

“Then that’s who we’ll be interviewing next.” D.D. glanced at the distant horizon, noticed for the first time the rapidly fading daylight, and felt her heart sink. “Oh no. Bobby … It’s nearly dark!”

“Then we’d better work faster.”

Bobby turned down the walk. D.D. followed quickly behind him.





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