“It was like a mystery, wasn’t it? I was worried about her, of course, but it was a mystery, too. That’s how it looked, anyway, but I guess it wasn’t a mystery at all. She just met a guy on the Internet and went to visit him.”
That last sentence summed up everything Finn had feared for Hailey, and yet now it did seem as mundane and innocuous as Jonas was suggesting. Okay, she was somewhere she wasn’t meant to be, no doubt doing things her parents wouldn’t want her to be doing, but she was almost certainly safe and, for a few delirious days at least, happy.
“No, I’m not disappointed. I’m relieved for her and her family. Because it could’ve been so much worse.”
“Have you seen an old film called Picnic at Hanging Rock?”
“Yes, I have. I’ve read the book, too—by an Australian.”
“Joan Lindsay.”
“That’s correct. And you know what, she made it up. In real life, girls don’t just vanish into thin air—they run away or they’re taken, and there’s no mystery about what happens to them. It’s nearly always bad.”
Jonas nodded. “I’m glad she’ll be coming back, despite everything.”
Despite everything. Those two words summed up how hurt he was. Finn felt the urge to comfort him, as little as they knew each other. But he had no doubt he’d bounce back, if not with Hailey then with someone else.
“I have to go and see the Portmans.” He stopped short of thanking him, remembering the way it had been received earlier, but said, “Hopefully we’ll be back in a day or so—maybe I’ll see you then.”
Jonas laughed. “Okay, but it’s not like we’re gonna start hanging out together.”
Finn laughed, too, and they left. They stopped briefly outside in the bracing cold, and Jonas put his hat on. It was similar to the others but yet another design.
“You have a lot of hats.”
“I have six.”
Finn nodded and pointed as he said, “I’m going this way.”
“Me too.” So they set off walking together, and after a few paces Jonas said, “You probably think I’m pretty lame.”
It was the closest he’d come to an admission of how he really felt, perhaps emboldened because they were both facing forward as they walked along the night-lit street.
“I don’t think you’re lame at all.” Finn thought back across the messiness of his own life and added, “Thinking you have a special connection with someone and then finding out it’s not actually reciprocated, it’s the toughest thing.”
They walked in silence for a few seconds, long enough that Finn wondered if he’d talk again, but then Jonas said, “You’ve been there?”
“Yes, I have.”
“You think it’s why she left? Adrienne, I mean.”
Finn’s thoughts stumbled, because he hadn’t been thinking of Adrienne, but he could only say, “What are you talking about?”
“Oh—only, Hailey said she saw her crying a couple of times, when she was talking to Mrs. Portman. And once we heard her saying it was like you were never really there.”
And now Finn’s confusion crystallized into shock and shame and an urgent desire to call her, so injured was he by the thought that he’d ever reduced her to tears.
“I didn’t know that. I’ve been a pretty crummy boyfriend.”
“I thought that, too, so did Hailey, but actually, you’re okay. You should be more like this with Adrienne.” They reached a corner, and Jonas stopped before Finn could answer and said, “I turn here, you carry on.”
“Okay. Well, thanks for the help, and maybe I’ll see you when we get back.”
“Okay. Bye.”
He raised his hand and walked away, but just as Finn prepared to cross the street, Jonas called to him.
Finn looked in his direction and Jonas said, “Actually, I have seven hats, but one’s too small for me now. That’s why I said I have six.”
He really didn’t lie. Finn waved and watched him walking off with his easy stride, feeling an odd affection for this kid who’d seemed so strange, but who no longer seemed strange at all.
Chapter Thirteen
He stopped before he got home and used a phone booth to book a seat on the next day’s flight. He was either being too careful or not careful enough, though he doubted Gibson and his superiors were searching for Hailey Portman, not least because they knew nothing about the memory stick.
When he knocked on the Portmans’ door, there was a short delay before it opened to reveal them both standing there, the same mixture of expectation and dread followed by disappointment.
Ethan said, “Oh, we thought because of the hour, it might be the police.”
Or Hailey were the unspoken words at the end of that sentence.
“I’ve found her—I know where she is.”
Debbie’s mouth opened, but whatever she’d thought of saying remained unformed. Her legs buckled and Ethan, his arm already around her, caught her and helped her away. Finn followed them through to the living room as Ethan helped her into a chair.
“I’ll get some water.”
“I’m fine, really.”
She didn’t look it. The color had drained from her face. Finn and Ethan sat down, too.
“She’s in Uppsala, in Sweden. Jonas helped me find her.”