Yeah, that’s what Emery thought, too. He never seemed to care that Tiffany was his niece, the daughter of his wife’s baby sister. He saw Tiffany as an extension of her mother and he hated Aunt Louise. Thought she drank too much, liked to party too much, wasn’t serious enough. Certainly wasn’t good enough for his best friend, Gavin, and only brought his wife down when the sisters got together.
And she couldn’t defend herself. Could no longer fight for Tiffany. Aunt Louise had died years ago. Ran her car into a tree and never woke up. Uncle Gavin had already lost a daughter and had to make the call to take his wife off life support. But they were over long before that. Emery remembered watching as time and pain ate away at both their souls. Turned them inside out and ripped them apart.
After Tiffany disappeared, Uncle Gavin stopped defending his wife. He no longer talked about her being funny and sweet. Emery suspected the mix of guilt and her father’s negative comments wore on Uncle Gavin.
Some said alcohol killed Aunt Louise. Others blamed Uncle Gavin’s indifference and the cold that moved between them and froze them both from the inside out. Still others thought she never recovered after losing Tiffany. She became an empty shell, shuffling around the house and circling the phone as if the call could come at any moment.
Emery believed her aunt died because she gave up. Uncle Gavin ran around, pushing the police and putting up posters. Aunt Louise withered. With both of them gone, that left her as the sole person to speak for, to fight for, her cousin. The idea of Tiffany being out there, needing help and for someone to storm in, had haunted Emery’s sleep for years.
With time, some memories had faded but she fought to hold onto mental snapshots, small pieces of her days with her free-spirited cousin and best friend. The hikes, the bike rides, the visits to the water park they loved. The debates they’d have over which movie star was cuter, and which one they’d marry. Stupid girl stuff that would double them over in laughter or have them communicating in code or sneaking behind their parents’ backs.
That sneaking had cost Tiffany everything.
Emery had tried to engage her dad about what he remembered since they’d lived a few doors apart for almost three decades. Right there on the tree-lined street in Bethesda, just three blocks from where Tiffany disappeared forever. He insisted there was nothing left to tell.
But Caroline supported her. Encouraged the investigation, and that made Emery’s life so much easier. “Your tough love is why I love it here.”
Caroline winked at her. “And your refusal to be bullied and pushed around is why I hired you.”
“I also volunteered as free labor while I went to college and then begged you to give me any position around here, no matter how low the pay.” She started by changing the printer’s toner cartridges and emptying trash cans.
The memory almost made Emery laugh. She’d been so eager, so happy to be close to the people who might find Tiffany one day, or at least be able to explain what happened. She carried that same hope today even after meeting Wren.
“Oh, I hired you for your willingness to work for pennies.” Caroline’s smile came back. “That, too.”
“I feel anxious and jumpy. Like I’m right on the edge of finding that one piece that will open this case up.” Emery said it because she knew Caroline would understand. The office found answers for so many families. That rush as the information started to fall into place never went away.
Caroline held up a hand. “You know I have to warn you—”
“Not to get too excited or wound up in the emotion of the hunt,” Emery said, finishing the sentence. “Follow the facts.”
“Do I say that a lot? If so, I’m brilliant.” This time when the person manning the phones called out Caroline’s name she responded. “I’ll be there in a second.”
“Thanks for letting me work on this.” Emery meant that. Not many jobs would let her pursue a lifelong vow.
“Our job is to bring them all home. The ones we know and the ones we don’t.” She winked. “Keep digging.”
Emery planned to do just that.
Wren eyed up the folders spread across his dining room table. He wasn’t one to entertain, so it was about time the room saw some action. Figured it was in the form of work and not actual food.
He picked up the takeout Chinese container and jabbed a shrimp with his fork. Mrs. Hayes would yell at him tomorrow. She came in most weekdays, straightened up, cleaned, organized even though nothing was ever out of order and made him dinner. Tonight he’d ignored whatever was on the plate and bribed Garrett into ordering at the office. Only Garrett, who was extremely well paid, would insist on a free dinner before he’d make a phone call and order.
Most days Wren wouldn’t have cared about getting home, but tonight something drove him. A strange sensation nagged at him ever since he left the senator’s office. He worked until after eight in the office, earlier than his usual workday end, then headed out because he wanted to close the door, block all distractions and dig into his new side project.
Tiffany Younger. She literally vanished off a Maryland sidewalk at age thirteen.