“I don’t think your father would like the idea of you walking around the neighborhood alone.”
“I’ll be with the police, I’m fine.” Walter hesitates, and I put my hands on my hips. “I’m not asking permission, you know. This is just a courtesy so that you know where I am.”
“Fine,” Walter says as I retreat. “See you later.”
I rush outside without bothering to grab a hat.
Mariano has his back to the door when I come out, and he turns to smile at me. “This is good of you, Piper. Neighborhoods can be impossible to understand without an insider’s perspective.”
“I’m just happy to feel useful. To be able to do something other than sit by the phone and wait.” I charge through the gate that he holds open for me. “Did you see Dr. and Mrs. LeVine?”
He nods.
“And?”
Mariano glances at me, his brown eyes searching. “They were how you’d expect. Tired. Scared.”
“I was there yesterday after school, and I don’t think Mrs. LeVine ever stopped crying.”
“They said you had come by. I got the impression you were a great comfort to them.”
“I hope so.” Because that’s not the impression I left with. I hug my notebook to my chest. “They’ve never particularly cared for me.”
Mariano’s face creases with his frown. “Why do you say that?”
“Because they don’t.” My laugh holds no humor. “Lydia . . . Well, she’s as close to perfect as they come. Sweet and kind-hearted and well-mannered. We were a strange match, and her parents wouldn’t have minded Lydia spending time with other friends.”
“Are you not sweet, kind-hearted, and well-mannered, Piper?”
“No. I’m not.”
He chuckles at this, though amusing him wasn’t my intention. “And how long have you lived here?”
“As long as I can remember. I was two when we moved in.”
“So you know all the neighbors, then?”
I nod and, feeling bashful, hand him the notebook. “I made this. Just in case . . . You know. In case something happened to her.” I tuck my hair behind my ears and swallow a gulp of air. “I don’t know how helpful this will be, but I tried to think of everyone I could who might have had even a slight grudge against the LeVine family. I listed neighbors in there. With a map.”
I feign interest in Mrs. Jensen’s peonies as Mariano looks through my notebook. I should brace myself for the likely response—that it’d be better for everyone if I stayed out of this. That the professionals are more than capable of handling Lydia’s case. But I can’t stop myself from thinking he might appreciate my efforts. Detective Mariano Cassano seems to be the only person who realizes that what I know could matter.
Mariano taps on an open page. “What’s this one?”
“Oh.” Heat stains my cheeks. “I tried to document every conversation Lydia and I had in the last week. Just in case it was of any importance.”
Mariano’s footsteps slow. “She hoped to marry Matthew?” He looks at me. “Things were that serious?”
“Yes. I mean, no.” I shake my head. “I don’t know, honestly. I think she was just feeling theatrical when she said that. But when you first told me she was missing, I wondered if maybe she’d run off with him.”
Mariano stops walking, and his thoughts are clearly far away. “I talked to Matthew extensively yesterday and today. He insisted that if Lydia had feelings for him, he was unaware.”
I read skepticism in Mariano’s expression. “He told me the same. But when Lydia left my house on Tuesday, she said she was going to tell him as soon as she got home.” In my memory, I see her waving to me from her gate, beaming. Tears flood my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” I reach into the pocket of my gray skirt only to find it empty.
“No apologies necessary.” Mariano pulls a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his suit. “If I may say so, Piper, I think you’ve shown remarkable strength these twenty-four hours.”
I attempt to laugh, but it sounds more like a hiccup. “I don’t think it’s sunk in yet, to be honest.”
“That’s normal, I promise. In your opinion, how does Matthew feel about Lydia?”
I dab my eyes with Mariano’s handkerchief, which has a minty, clean smell. “I don’t know for sure.”
“I’d like to know your thoughts.”
I bite my lower lip as I look up at him. “Matthew has always seemed very closed off to me. My brother Nick was much more obvious. I could tell he fancied her. But Matthew . . .” I sigh. “I don’t understand how he couldn’t, but I also can’t point to evidence he did either.”
I hold Mariano’s handkerchief out to him, but he shakes his head. “Hold on to it for now.”
“Thank you.” I grasp it between my fingers and find we’ve wandered off Astor Street and toward State. All without me mentioning a single neighbor. “I’m sorry, I’m being a terrible tour guide, aren’t I?”