And each night I’d get the same answer. “Not a thing.” One of the men had met Amy Raye at a convenience store. Two of the other men had met her on dating sites. Aaron said he hadn’t been involved with her for six months. Kenny had broken down several times during the questioning. But every one of the men passed the lie detector test, including Farrell. And each was willing to cooperate, though Aaron was reluctant at first because of his family. He said his wife didn’t know, and he had recommitted himself to her and wanted to make things right. But what got to Colm most was Farrell.
“Up until her disappearance, he didn’t have a clue. Then he gets home from the search and he’s trying to talk to the kids. The girl doesn’t think Amy Raye is dead. She thinks her mom will be coming home, like Moab, their dog who’d run off one night, only to return the next day. So here Farrell is trying to talk to the kids, trying to hold himself together, and he goes to bed one night and turns on his wife’s phone.”
“I thought you were holding the phone as evidence,” I said.
“Evidence of what? We didn’t know about this other life she had going on. We gave the husband back all of her belongings. We’d rather spend our time pulling records than trying to break a passcode.”
Colm went on to tell me that Farrell had tried different combinations of numbers, and one of them had worked. Amy Raye had at least ten new voice messages. Seven of the messages were from Kenny, telling her how much he loved her and how worried he was. Another message was from one of the men Colm had brought in. The guy had heard Amy Raye had gone missing. He’d called to hear her voice. The other two messages were from Farrell.
“And get this,” Colm said. “The PIN on her cell phone was her and Farrell’s anniversary.”
“What about text messages?”
“There were plenty of those. And I don’t have to tell you the nature of them.”
“Any pictures?”
“The last pictures were from their daughter’s birthday party,” Colm said.
“I don’t get it,” I said. “No pictures from the hunt, or photos after Kenny and Aaron filled their tags?”
“I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe that wasn’t her thing.”
“How long has the husband known?”
“A couple of weeks.”
“And he didn’t say anything to you? Do you find that odd?”
“You don’t know men.” Colm exhaled into the receiver, more like a drawn-out sigh. “Let’s just say a wife’s infidelities aren’t something a man is proud of.”
I hesitated, thinking about what Colm had said, and wondering if he had meant more. Then I asked, “How is Farrell taking all of this?”
“He’s confused. He’s upset. He’s angry. But I’ll be damned, that man loves her. If there’s a trump card to this whole thing, it’s that. He’s got one hell of a broken heart. He really believed she’d loved him.”
Colm’s words made me sad, not just for Farrell, but for the woman. I wished she could know how her husband felt.
“Have you changed your mind about Kenny?” I asked. I’d already told Colm about the photo Joseph had pulled up. I’d told Colm that we might be looking at a tree stand and that I was going to be checking it out after Christmas.
“Yeah, I guess I have.”
I was sitting in the living room next to the wood stove. Joseph and I had put up a tree, a pinyon we’d cut from the woods. We’d be driving over to Boulder at the end of the week. My parents would be meeting us there, as well. “It’s weird, you know. It’s like we’re angry with her, and we don’t even know her. It’s easy to forget that she’s someone’s mother and someone’s wife, and they’re having to get on without her.”
The tree lights flickered. Kona was lying beside me on the sofa. I stroked his warm fur.
Colm had become quiet. After about a minute, I said, “Are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” And then, “When are you and Joseph heading out?”
“He’s got his last final Friday morning. We’ll leave after that.” I had a couple of sites near the Coos shelter I still needed to check out, so I was glad we weren’t leaving any sooner. Sometimes getting to those sites was prohibited by the snowy terrain, but I could at least look for any disturbances in the immediate area.
Colm had remained quiet, and in that moment, I felt a bigger sadness stirring up inside me. “Colm, are you okay? You got any plans?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Dean wants me to stop by their place. Wants me to swing by early so I can watch the kids open their presents.” I heard Colm moving around in his kitchen, heard the sound of a skillet on the stove.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Just fixing some dinner.”
“It’s late,” I said. Joseph and I had already finished and put the dishes away.
“A man’s got to eat,” he said.
“What are you cooking?”
Colm opened a drawer and shut it. A couple of utensils clinked. “I’m frying a steak,” he said.
“It smells good.”
And Colm laughed.
I heard him turn the steak over, heard a cabinet open and close.
“I better let you go,” I said.
A few seconds passed. “Have a good trip, Pru. Drive safe.”
“I will. Merry Christmas, Colm.”