If you’re not here,she thinks,then where the fuck are you, Amanda?
The last time she was here, Kaitlyn found that gold class ring, which ultimately led her to Townsend. Tracking him down may have been a bust, but perhaps there is something else in this apartment that can offer Kaitlyn clarity about where Amanda is hiding—or who she even is.
Just like the first time she ransacked this place, she starts with the drawers, working her way from the tiny kitchen over to the bed, which is sectioned off from the rest of the studio with a bookcase. Lifting up the bedsheets, she sees nothing out of place, and peeking under the bed, she finds only dust bunnies. No notes, no fingerprints, no stray hairs, no blood stains. Not a single clue to indicate where Amanda went and whether she went there willingly. The only new item Kaitlyn finds is aflyer advertising a protest of the polarizing I-35 expansion. Strange—she never once thought of her sister as an activist. Perhaps this is yet another facet of Amanda’s personality that Kaitlyn never witnessed for herself.
She is just about to leave when she notices a nail hammered into an otherwise empty wall in the kitchen, one she could haveswornused to hold a piece of art. It takes her a moment before she remembers: A topless black-and-white modeling shot of her sister used to hang there, and now it’s gone. Though it feels odd to take a picture of something thatisn’tthere, Kaitlyn pulls out her phone and snaps a photo of the bare wall. That’s when a text message bubbles up on her screen.
Hi Kaitlyn. It’s Will Dupont,the text says.Hope you’re doing okay. Just wanted to let you know that I saw our buddy Townsend Fuller yesterday, and it made me think of you.
Her curiosity is piqued.Where did you see Townsend?
His response comes almost instantly.He came into the Rutland office and met with one of our partners. I was going to say hi, but he looked stressed AF, so I left him alone.
A tingle of suspicion creeps up Kaitlyn’s spine at the thought of Townsend speaking to a lawyer. Could he have done something to Amanda after all? But that couldn’t be. Townsend had shown Kaitlyn all those threatening messages from her sister. If anything, he’s probably seeking legal actionagainstAmanda, a thought that makes Kaitlyn feel too ashamed to keep the conversation going.
Strangely enough, this is the second time someone has brought up Townsend to her this week. After much cajoling, Kaitlyn had finally agreed to a second date with the data science professor last Saturday night, if only for the distraction. Once the drinks started flowing, her guard fell away, and she even handed the professor her phone to scroll through pictures of her windowsill herb garden. But her date swiped one image too far, coming across a screenshot she’d taken a month earlier of Townsend at his alumni holiday party.
“Wait, I know this guy,” she told Kaitlyn, tapping her finger on the screen.
“You do?”
“Yeah. Small world. He hired me to do a project for him.”
“What kind of project?” Kaitlyn asked, but Eileen wouldn’t elaborate; apparently she’d signed an NDA.
Figures,Kaitlyn thought. Even if Townsend wasn’t guilty of hurting her sister, he was surely guilty ofsomething.
The lobby was miraculously empty when Kaitlyn first entered Amanda’s building, and though she hoped to have the same luck when exiting, she instead finds the landlord waiting for her at the bottom of the steps, idly sweeping the floor.
“I thought I heard someone up there.” The man squints, as though trying to place her. “You new here?”
He doesn’t recognize her from the last time she was here. This doesn’t surprise her; Kaitlyn is used to being forgotten. She considers lying, but she just doesn’t have her sister’s gift for it. “My sister lives in 3C. Amanda Reade.” She hesitates, and then—before this man can lecture her—adds, “I know she’s so behind on rent but—”
“Nah. She’s good.” The landlord shakes his head, his wispy gray ponytail flapping behind him.
“What do you mean?” Her sister is attractive, yes, but is she really hot enough to get herself excused from several months’ worth of rent?
“The woman has been coming by to pay it.”
This Kaitlyn didn’t expect. “The woman?”
“She comes by once a month to drop off cash. Said she works with Amanda.”
Her pulse quickens. Someone is paying Amanda’s rent? She can’t think of any reason why someone would be so generous ... unless ... “Who is this woman?”
“I don’t know. Just some lady.”
“Can you describe her?” Kaitlyn pushes.
The landlord sighs, clearly bored with this line of questioning. “Youngish. Dark hair. Good looking. I’m getting paid, so I don’t really care who she is.”
“Okay.” It doesn’t seem like she’s going to get anything else from this man, so Kaitlyn reaches into her bag with sweaty palms and pulls out a crumpled receipt and a pen. Just moments before, she was ready to write her sister off as the worst kind of fuckup, but now, she once again—perhaps foolishly—feels a flicker of uncertainty.
Maybe Amanda is not off on a bender after all. Maybe Kaitlyn has been on this wild-goose chase for good reason.
“I’m going to write down my number,” she tells him. “Do you think you could call me the next time she comes by? Maybe even get a picture?”
Heaving another sigh, the man accepts the slip of paper. “Sure. If I remember.”
