“Yeah,” Nic answered. She went on then to explain about the truck and the letters on the orange purse, and about Edith Moore and how she’d been driving from town that night.
Watkins nodded as though taking in the information.
“Okay,” he said. “I get it. Why you came back. I would do the same if it was my family. Gotta sleep at night, right?”
“Something like that.”
“So how can we help?” Watkins asked. His tone was patronizing.
She rambled off the list she’d made, things about the DMV and dark pickup trucks in the area, and finding their owners and asking where they were the night of the storm, driving their trucks.
Watkins groaned, but he humored her, listening, nodding. Then he leaned forward, clasped his hands in front of him on the desk. He had the authority moves down to a nice little dance. This was something else she now remembered, how he had provoked her with the comfort he seemed to find in his position of power.
“You should have someone with you,” Watkins said then. “She could be after that money. It was too much for around here. That kind of money—makes people a little crazy.”
“I’m meeting her tomorrow at ten—at the Gas n’ Go.”
Watkins nodded, palms now pressed into piles of papers. “I’ll get Reyes to meet you. Remember him? Officer Reyes?”
“Yes,” Nic said. But not exactly. She remembered a lot of cops—the two local policemen and the state troopers. Their names, faces, had all melded together behind the uniforms.
“Are you staying at the inn?”
“I guess so.”
“All right. Meet Reyes at the diner next door—nine thirty? If she seems legit, we can run the registrations for dark-colored trucks.”
“Thanks,” Nic said. She stood to leave. Watkins stood as well, something clearly weighing on his mind.
“Hey,” he said, stopping her at the door. “Is this because of the handwriting analysis? Because, you know, an inconclusive report is not the same as a negative report.”
Nic had no idea what he was saying, and her face gave her away.
Watkins turned suddenly, finding a box in the back corner of his office. He sifted through it. Pulled out a thin bundle of papers stapled together.
“This,” he said, handing the papers to Nic. “It’s the handwriting analysis.”
Nic stared at the report, scanning each page quickly, reading things about slants of letters and spacing of words, turning them until she got to the end—and the word “inconclusive.”
“I thought it was confirmed—the note? That it was my mother’s handwriting?”
Watkins was at a loss.
“And my father knew about this?” she asked.
“Jeez, listen. I had no idea,” Watkins said now. “I assumed he told you. It came in a few days after you left.”
Nic sat back down, stunned by these new facts, but also her father’s lie. She knew why he’d done it—he wanted her to move on the way he had. The way he’d forced Evan to do by sending him back to school. He’d said as much on the phone when he’d gotten her text earlier that morning, saying she was coming back to Hastings to follow a lead.This is absurd…I’m having my PI look into this woman, what’s her name? Why would you do this? Do you need me to come?He was in Chicago for a sales conference.I’ll be on the next flight.And then, after he’d relented,When you get back we are going to have a long talk about your life.
They’d been having this part of the conversation for days. With her mother gone, he’d suddenly taken up parenting as a new hobby, insisting she get on with her life. Stop herbad behavior.His favorite new expression—you’re not your mother.
She tried to explain this to Watkins. “My father thinks what you think—that this new lead is a scam. And that even if it’s not, my mother doesn’t want to be found. He wants me to come home.”
“I see,” Watkins said. “Well, I can’t argue with him. Everything supports that conclusion.”
“Is that why the case wasn’t reopened—after this report came in?”
Watkins shrugged. “The facts haven’t changed, that’s why. Look—the report is inconclusive. It’s not negative. The note was found in the hotel room she paid for. It was on paper from the notepad in the room. She was upset, nervous. Maybe her hands were shaky.” Then he said it again—“It wasn’tnegative.”
