“What do you think you’re doing?”
She jumps, nearly dropping the bag, a guilty look on her face.
“It’s okay,” Aaron says. “I thought you were asleep or I’d have asked first. Taylor’s searching for something she can use to track Deo.”
“Exactly what do you mean by track?”
Taylor’s nose wrinkles. “Yeah, Aaron. You make it sound like I’m a damn bloodhound. I’m looking for something that might give me a reading. Is there anything in here that Deo is especially attached to? Something he sleeps with? Or that he might have worn next to his body recently. Jewelry is better than fabric.”
I try to rein in my skeptical look, but it’s been an emotional day, and I probably fail miserably. Taylor rolls her eyes, then closes them, shaking her head wearily, as though praying for patience.
And yes, I realize I’m being unfair. I’d have realized it even without Molly muttering in the back of my head.
I told you already. Taylor finds stuff.
Taylor takes a deep breath, and with her patience wish apparently granted, opens her eyes. “I’m the only reason they found Molly’s body, Anna. Officially, they got an anonymous tip from a hiker, but I sketched the woods where they took her. I drew a map of the winding dirt road that led back to the highway. It wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough.” Tears are building in her eyes. “It took me more than three months of doing nothing else but trying to match the map I’d drawn to satellite views, but I finally found the location. I hoped it would give her Pa and Mimmy some closure, but . . .” She’s quiet for a moment, then shrugs, a defeated look on her face. “Maybe it would have been better for them to keep hoping. I don’t know.”
No, Tay. Not your fault.
“They needed to know,” Aaron says. “Even if we couldn’t find anything to pin it on Lucas, you finding Molly was a good thing.” He gives her shoulder a squeeze, but she doesn’t look convinced.
“Molly just said the same thing, Taylor. She doesn’t want you blaming yourself.”
I hold out my hand for Deo’s bag, but I don’t hold out much hope for this avenue of investigation. Even if Taylor succeeded in finding Molly, she admitted it took months. And she found a body. I shove that thought away so hard that I can feel the recoil. I can’t even consider the possibility that all we’ll find is his body.
“I think I put his phone back in here last night . . . ,” I say, rummaging around.
“Um . . . not so sure about a phone,” Taylor says. “Seems to work better if it’s something they wore.”
“Deo wore his phone more often than anything else. But . . .” I pull out the phone and unclamp the ear cuff from the top of the case. “I was actually looking for this. I gave it to him last Christmas. He was—”
“Wearing it at Sam’s office,” she says. “Yeah. I noticed.”
I drop the cuff into her hand, and she scoops up her sketch pads and a pink sparkly bag lying next to her on the sofa, which I guess is a pencil bag. It looks familiar for some reason.
“I’m going to take over one of the rooms upstairs,” she tells Aaron. “You didn’t bring your headphones by any chance, did you? Forgot mine on the table back home.”
He shakes his head.
I pull out Deo’s purple-and-white earbuds from the pack, and my mind flashes back to him leaning against the brick wall at Carver’s Deli with these in his ears, waiting for me to get back from my meeting with Porter.
“Here.” I toss Taylor the earbuds. “No guarantees on the sound quality. I think Deo buys this brand as much for color coordination as anything else. And because they’re cheap.”
“They’ll do. I just need something to help me block out any noise.” Her eyebrows go up slightly. “Deo was carrying a blue set of these last night, wasn’t he?”
I nod, even though I hadn’t actually remembered that until she spoke.
Taylor turns to Aaron and hands him a folded note she’s just pulled from the pocket of her sweater. “I found this next to the coffeepot this morning, which might explain why Daniel didn’t answer his cell last night. I don’t want to talk about it now, because it will piss me off and that interferes with my focus. But you might want to let Sam know.”
She grabs the overnight bag next to the stairs and hurries up to the second floor.
Aaron curses and wads up the note.
“What is it?” I ask, as Aaron, who’s apparently decided it was a bad idea to crumple it up, unwads and refolds the note.
“Daniel. Of course. Says he got a call last night and they want him to report early. So he’s off again without bothering to tell Taylor or Mom a proper good-bye.”