“She’s due in six weeks.” After a quick calculation, I correct, “Five weeks.”
“Then there you fucking go!”
“You don’t know Macy. She could solve this case in five weeks. You’ve just got to give her the chance.”
“I—”
“Meet with her. Show her what you’ve got and give her the chance to show you her skills. If you still don’t believe me after that, I’ll never suggest it again.”
His pause is longer this time around.
I take it as an agreement.
“I’ll forward you an address. You can meet with her tomorrow at ten.”
I’m about to disconnect our call when Crew shouts my name.
“Yeah?” I reply after squashing my phone back against my ear.
“Why are you doing this?”
I don’t know him, so he doesn’t need an explanation; however, I give it to him anyway. “Because I need to know she’s going to be okay.” I should stop there, but I can’t. “I need to know that I didn’t break her.”
31
MACY
Recently cleaned wet hair swishes against my back as I peer out the window for the umpteenth time this morning. I’m early. I always am with anything related to Kendall. I’d rather be early than show up late. It was the one thing my father ingrained in me before his staff took over his teachings.
I intertwine my fingers to stop my fidgeting as tension bubbles under my skin. I’d thought about this for years, but I pictured myself anxiously pacing, waiting for my colleagues to brief Kendall before they released her into my care. I never expected to meet the man who loved her enough to keep searching for her long after most gave up.
But here I am, waiting in the foyer of a local hotel for Crew to arrive. I feel off balance, like I’m about to step onto a moving train. But I am also excited. My veins are bubbling with as much euphoria now as they were when Grayson was adamant he needed to tape my belly before our meeting. Though he knew the bed rest was fabricated, he erred on the side of caution.
The tension in the bathroom this morning was off the charts. Mercifully, my unborn son has no issues keeping the focus onhim. He booted Grayson’s hand hard enough for me to fold in two, and for Grayson’s laugh to boom around the bathroom.
It was lovely to hear after so much uncertainty.
When Crew enters the hotel, I immediately recognize him. His face doesn’t look as harsh as it did when I confronted him in the parking lot of the Lamaze class. He also doesn’t appear as old since suspicion isn’t hardening his features. He is a handsome man in his mid-thirties, and he wears a suit like he should be commanding the boardroom of a Fortune 500 company.
He exhales sharply when he spots my gawk before he crosses the room. He’s carrying a battered messenger bag, and his strides are efficient and long, reaching me quicker than three heartbeats.
“Macy?” He thrusts out his hand in offering as if confident in his assumption.
I nod, and we shake hands. His hold is firm but lacks the arrogance often seen in powerful men. It is reassuring and genuine. “Crew, it is so nice to meet you.”
After I officially introduce him to Grayson, we settle into a corner booth of a little café attached to the hotel. Crew removes a handful of files from his bag and spreads them over the table between us while I stare at him, trying to reconcile the man across from me with the boy who was pictured with Kendall a month before her abduction.
It’s weird imagining him with Kendall. Even after all the composite sketches and age-progressed images, I still picture my sister as a fresh-faced college student, her hair in a messy ponytail and a bright smile across her face. She was always laughing, as if the world were her own private joke.
The faint wrinkles creased in the corners of Crew’s eyes, and the flecks of silver at the temples of his dark hair, prove that time has passed.
We’ve all changed.
I more than anyone.
Crew seems like Kendall’s type, though. He has a magnetizing intensity and a sturdiness that draws you in like a magnet. I want to trust him and believe that together we will bring Kendall home.
Over the next hour, Grayson, Crew, and I dive into the files. We trade theories and piece together fragments of Kendall’s last known sighting. It isn’t as far back as I once believed, and it proves what I’ve always known. My sister is alive.
