“We dated briefly back in the beginning of the year,” he says instead.
“Was the relationship serious?”
“No, no, definitely not. It was very casual. We were just ...” Townsend hesitates. “We were intimate, but it wasn’t romantic.”
“Okay.” Harris writes this down. “Did the relationship end on bad terms?”
Townsend shakes his head no. “I don’t think so. It just sort of fizzled out. I wouldn’t even call it a relationship, really.” In his hands, he fiddles with the TV remote, repeatedly removing the batteries and sliding them back into place again. Seeing this, Talia gently takes the remote from him and sets it next to her on the couch. She doesn’t like it, seeing him so rattled.
“Are you still in communication?”
“I haven’t spoken to her in three months.” Townsend pulls out his phone and crosses the room to show the officers the screen. Talia waits for him to show her, too, before remembering she isn’t the one leading this investigation. “See? The last text I received from her was on March third, and I never replied.”
“Got it.” Harris makes a note and then closes her pad.
“Do you mind me asking what this is all about?”
Burrows speaks for the first time, his voice gravelly and unsettling. “We’re following up on a missing person report filed by Amanda’s sister, Kaitlyn Reade. She said she hasn’t seen or spoken to Amanda for months, which she said isn’t all that unusual for her, but she’s starting to get worried.”
“Amanda told me she wanted to backpack through Europe this summer. Could she be traveling?”
“Kaitlyn mentioned that as well,” says Burrows, “but we don’t have any evidence to suggest that she has traveled abroad.”
“I didn’t know her well.” Townsend places his hand on Talia’s knee, seeming to remember her for the first time since the police arrived. “But I did get the impression she was a little ... wild. Like, maybe disappearing like this isn’t totally out of character for her. She said she flew to Vegas once on a whim and ended up staying for almost two months.”
“Is that right?”
“Apparently Amanda had some past brushes with the law,” Townsend continues, his voice on the verge of eager. “She told me she had a few DUIs on her record, as well as a breaking and entering charge from a couple years back.”
“Interesting.” It’s unclear whether this is new information to Burrows, but Townsend still looks pleased to have volunteered it.
“Hey, can I ask something?” Townsend takes his hand back from Talia’s knee, and her skin immediately feels cold. “How did you get my name? Like I said, things were casual between us, so our relationship wasn’t exactly public.”
“Kaitlyn said you were the last person her sister dated. Did Amanda ever introduce you two?”
“No. Amanda barely mentioned her sister.” Townsend clears his throat. “But she did tell me once that she and Kaitlyn didn’t get along. Apparently, when their folks died a few years ago, they left the bulk of their estate to Amanda, and the sister was pretty bitter about it.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know if that’s relevant at all. Just seems like something worth mentioning.”
Harris exchanges a look with Burrows. Then she opens her pad and jots this down. “One last question,” she says. “Where were you on the night of May eighteenth?”
“He was with me.” The words fly out of Talia’s mouth before she can stop them. Burrows raises an eyebrow, and Talia forces herself to take a deep breath before continuing. “We were with some friends, kayaking on Town Lake.”
“And you left together?” Harris asks.
Talia glances at Townsend, who puts his hand reassuringly back on her knee. “No,” he tells the detective. “We left separately, just after sunset. Talia went back to her place, I assume”—Talia nods—“and I came back here. Oh, I also stopped to pick up some takeout. Got home around nine thirty. My doorman can confirm the exact time.”
“What’d you get?” Burrows asks in his gravelly voice.
“Hmm?” Townsend is now rubbing his hand back and forth on Talia’s knee. She places her hand on top of his to still the movement.
“To eat,” Burrows clarifies.
“Oh.” Townsend gives a little laugh. “Tacos. From this little food truck called Granny’s.”
Burrows smiles. “I know that place. They run it out of that Airstream, right? Over off East Seventh?”
“That’s the one.”
Harris gives Burrows a subtle nod. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Fuller,” she says. “I’ll leave you my card, and you’ll follow up if you think of anything else that may be helpful, yes?”
