“Is that a typical evening for your family?” Bel asked.
“It is,” he confirmed. “We’re very close. It’s just the three of us.”
“Did you fight last night?” Griffin asked.
“No. It was an uneventful evening.”
“And her belongings are still here, correct?” Bel said. “Did you notice anything missing after you called us?”
“No, that’s her car right there.” Mr. Triton pointed out the window, and the officers followed his directions to where the quintessential teen’s first car sat parked on the gravel. “Her keys are on the hook by the door. Her purse, with her wallet inside, is in her room, as is her cell phone. Her clothes and shoes haven’t been touched, and our suitcases are still in the closet.”
“What about your wallet?” Bel asked. “Is your credit card missing? Or perhaps your cash?”
“I didn’t think to look.” Mr. Triton crossed the room to the foyer table and snatched his wallet out of the collection basket. “My cards are still inside. Cash too. Ariella has her own credit card, though. Why would she need to take mine?”
“Because she has her own card,” Bel said, “therefore, that’s the payment form you’d expect her to use. Maybe she hoped that if she left her wallet behind, you’d see her money still inside and assume she hadn’t taken anything, ignoring your own wallet. And by the time you realized you should check, she would’ve purchased whatever she needed to disappear.”
“My daughter didn’t run away,” Mr. Triton insisted.
“There were no signs of forced entry, and she left everything traceable behind,” Bel said. “There’s a good possibility that’s exactly what she did.”
“I don’t like what you’re implying.”
“It doesn’t mean she left for good,” Bel said. “She probably snuck out to attend a party, drink, get high, or hook up with a boyfriend. There’s a whole host of reasons why she might?—”
“Ariella isn’t that sort of girl,” Mr. Triton cut her off. “She doesn’t drink or do drugs, and she certainly isn’t off having sex with some boy. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, plus she knows how we feel about that?”
“Feel about what?” Bel pushed.
“I just meant she’s too young to be having sex. She is going to community college to save for her bachelor’s. She’s a smart and innocent girl. Arielle isn’t sneaking out for a night of debauchery.” The man grimaced, and Bel and Griffin exchanged a half-formed look.
“Okay, well maybe she’s at a sleepover or out for a run,” the sheriff interjected diplomatically. “You said there were no signsof forced entry, so I doubt she was taken. If she was, it was by someone she knew, but?—”
“Taken?” Mrs. Triton spoke for the first time. “No, she couldn’t have been taken.”
“I don’t think she was,” Griffin said. “Did you check her phone? Maybe she got into a fight with a friend and needed to cool off with a run? Or maybe a friend picked her up for Sunday brunch, and she forgot her phone. There’s no need to panic yet.”
“But her shoes are here, and I drove the surrounding roads earlier searching for her,” Mr. Triton said. “I would’ve found her if she’d gone for a run.”
“Do you mind if we check her room?” Bel asked. “If I know anything about teenage girls, it’s that they have a lot of clothes. It’s possible she wore new shoes or ones you haven’t seen before. I grew up in a house with six sisters. Clothes literally spawned from thin air.”
“Um… sure.” Mr. Triton patted his wife’s knee. “Sweetheart, why don’t you go put on a pot of coffee while I show the officers upstairs?”
“Yes… coffee, okay.” Mrs. Triton stood on unsteady legs and drifted toward the kitchen. She believed their only daughter was missing. Bel prayed Ariella would stop playing games and come home soon for her mother’s sake.
“This way.” The burly man gestured for them to follow him, and the trio climbed the stairs to find a girlishly cute room at the end of the hall.
“Who’s this?” Bel plucked a framed photo of two smiling girls off the dresser. The redhead wearing a shell necklace was the spitting image of the mother downstairs, but the dark-haired girl was unfamiliar.
“That’s Ondine Mar,” Mr. Triton said. “Ariella’s best friend.”
“Did you call her?” Bel asked.
“We did, but Ondine hasn’t seen her.”
Bel nodded before throwing Griffin another look. “Do you mind giving us a minute?” she asked their host.
“Yeah…” Mr. Triton’s eyes flitted about the bedroom.
