She laughed. “Put it this way: If you’d offered me whiskey earlier today, I might’ve taken you up on it.”
“Nah,” Kent said, a slight slur to the word, like his tongue was swollen. “Docs can’t tie one on like this on a random weeknight. All I gotta do is sit in a van with Sanj tomorrow. If I’m too hungover, he’ll take the entire scene for me. We cover for each other like that. You? You gotta perform tomorrow. You gotta be on. Right? Can’t be cloudy with what you do.”
Livia smiled. “I’m going to get you that coffee after all. I think you need it.”
“Don’t bother,” Kent said. “I’m gonna crash, if that’s okay with you.”
“Couch is all yours.”
Livia watched him take another sip of wine cooler.
“Your job is very important, Kent. You shouldn’t diminish what you do.”
“It’s not that. I love my job. It’s just that I’ve got backup if I need it, that’s all I’m saying.” There was a pause in their conversation. “But that’s what I do. I figure out crime scenes. I document what happened when someone dies.” He paused again, as if reluctant to go on. “So that’s why I’m asking about what you’re working on. Maybe I can help.”
“I’m not really working on anything. Not officially, and certainly with no supervision from anyone.”
“Dr. Cutty’s gone rogue?”
“Hardly. It’s just something personal I have to look into.”
Kent took another sip of strawberry mango. “It have to do with your sister?”
Now Livia squinted her eyes slightly, lifted her chin. Slowly, she nodded. “Yeah.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“I don’t know.”
Kent laughed. It sounded forced and Livia couldn’t tell if it was real or fake. “Hey,” he said. “I made you listen to my problems for a whole week in the van. I can at least return the gesture.”
Livia lifted the tea bag from her mug and placed in on the table. She took a sip. “Fair enough,” she said. “Girls have gone missing from this state and two others in the last three years. I think the same guy took them all, including my sister. If I widen the search beyond border states, there have been others, too.”
Kent stared at her with glassy eyes, mouth-breathing in the labored way of a drunk. Livia wasn’t sure he’d remember a thing about their conversation tomorrow, but for thirty minutes she told him what she knew and what she suspected. Kent asked few questions while she talked, just sat and listened.
Finally, he said, “Those are some serious allegations. You talk to the cops?”
“I’m trying. But it’s complicated with the girls being from different states. It means getting different police forces together, rival detectives pairing up and sharing information. It’s a tall order for someone with no contacts. But I’ve talked with the sheriff of Emerson Bay. He was involved with my sister’s case and sounded like he was willing to help.”
“I know some of the homicide guys. We have drinks on the weekend. I could ask them for help.”
“Thanks, Kent. I’ll let you know what happens with Terry McDonald first.”
Exhausted by one a.m., Livia stared at Kent. “Why don’t you just tell your wife it’s over?”
This brought Kent back from the place he’d been for the last thirty minutes as he listened to Livia recount her findings from the past few weeks.
When he didn’t respond, Livia continued. “These last few weeks have taught me a lot. Mostly that keeping things inside and not expressing how we feel doesn’t help anyone. Most of the time it ends up hurting the people we’re trying to protect. I still haven’t told my parents how guilty I feel about ignoring my sister in the months before her disappearance. Or about skipping her phone call that night. They haven’t yet mentioned to me that they can hardly exist in the house that is a replica of the place it was before their daughter was taken. Megan McDonald won’t tell her parents that the girl she was before she disappeared doesn’t exist any longer.”
Livia looked at Kent.
“If you don’t think things are going to change between you and your wife, just tell her, Kent. Don’t tell me. Don’t tell Sanj. Tell your wife. We’ll be there to listen, don’t get me wrong. But tell your wife, Kent.”
Livia stood and took the empty wine cooler from in front of him and dropped it in the garbage. “I’ve got an early morning.”
“Yeah,” Kent said. “Sorry to barge in like this.”
“It’s no problem. Thanks for listening to me.”
“You too. Oh, one other thing,” he said as he shuffled his body in the chair and reached into his front pocket. “I’m taking your advice.” He pulled out his cigarette lighter, tossed it to Livia. “Keep that as a souvenir for saving my life. I picked up a stress ball.”
Livia stared at the Bic lighter. “Good for you.”
Later, after she got Kent settled on the couch with a pillow and blanket, Livia lay awake in bed. It was close to two a.m. She thought she heard the floorboards creak outside her bedroom, then heard Kent’s snoring on the couch. Sleep felt far away. Maybe it was the fact that a man hadn’t spent the night since she started her fellowship, or maybe it was the intimate pictures of Paula D’Amato and Nancy Dee that rolled through her head. Maybe it was Nate’s chilling descriptions and insights from earlier. Whatever the reason, Livia lay in bed that night but never found sleep.
CHAPTER 42