Without interruption, Maureen nodded her agreement. “All accurate.”
“Good. Now it’s your turn. Talk to us about your memories, overall and then specific—no matter how insignificant they might seem. Did you see the Walshes often? And not only with Ryan there. Were you close with them?”
A hard swallow. “Yes. Ryan was like a brother to Shane, but I was like a second mother. My sister passed away many years ago, her husband even before that. At that time, Shane became Colin’s and mine. And when Shane married Caitlin, and Kennedy was born, our bond deepened. They were family, not extended family. We used to see them frequently when they were newlyweds and new parents. Then, just like with my own children, life took over, commitments happened, and our visits became more sporadic. But the love between us all never wavered, and when we did get together, it was as if no time had passed.”
“When was the last time you saw them?”
Tears filled Maureen’s eyes. “We were all scheduled to have a family dinner this past Sunday. The entire clan, including significant others. A rarity indeed. Obviously, that dinner never happened. Before that, the three of them dropped by maybe a month or two ago. And, before you ask, at that time, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No stress or tension at all.”
Casey typed into her iPad. “That suggests that whatever and whoever was threatening Shane didn’t yet exist. Okay, next give me more specifics about Kennedy’s role in Shane and Caitlin’s relationship. I know how much they loved her, but how open were they about discussing things in her presence? Did they send her off to play when they needed to talk? Or did they customarily allow her in the room during their discussions?”
Maureen’s brow furrowed. “That’s not something I can be absolutely certain about. I know the three of them were a very tight unit, and that Kennedy spent a great deal of time with her parents. She has friends her own age, but she’s a very mature nine-year-old. She’s also an only child. So she hung out with her parents a lot. Would it shock me if she overheard her parents talking? No. With something this serious, they wouldn’t just converse in front of her. But could she have picked up snatches of a private conversation between them, or been aware of their extreme anxiety? Yes. She’s a very bright, curious child.”
Claire nodded, her expression drawn with worry. “As we touched on, she might know something and not even be aware of it. I’m hoping I get some insight into that when Casey and I talk to her.”
Casey leaned forward. “I’m assuming, given the kind of person Shane was and the line of work he was in, that he didn’t discuss his professional life with you.”
“You assume correctly.”
“Okay, then I’m going to abandon that line of questioning and get to what you might know about Caitlin. Did you spend one-on-one time with her? Did she discuss her friends, her work, anything about her life other than family?”
A sad smile touched Maureen’s lips. “Caitlin’s parents are both gone, too. And she has no other living relatives that I know of. So, yes, we spent time together. Infrequent, given how busy she is, but there was an occasional lunch, some chats on the phone, that kind of thing. She did mention work, on occasion, but, frankly, the kind of work she does, like Ryan’s, is foreign to me. I’m not exactly a high-tech person, nor a scientific person like Ryan and my husband. I’m lucky I can check emails and pay bills online. My realm is family, people, and emotions.”
Casey chuckled. “None of us measures up where it comes to Ryan’s skills. So I wouldn’t judge yourself using those standards. So let’s move away from work. What about Caitlin’s friends? Did you ever meet any of them? Or did she talk to you about them, mention someone by name?”
“Meet them, no. But hear about them…as I told Ryan, I have the niggling sensation the answer to that is yes. I’ve been racking my brain on the subject since Ryan brought it up. You’re hoping to come up with someone Caitlin confided in?”
“Yes.” Casey was tapping her iPad screen, studying it with a frown.
“But if that’s true, if a friend of Caitlin’s knew anything about the cause of her disappearance, wouldn’t they have contacted the FBI?” Maureen asked.
Casey’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Maybe. Maybe not. Often people don’t immediately think of calling the authorities, especially if they’re unsure about the significance of what they know. They feel uncertain, foolish, even reticent. However, the reciprocal doesn’t apply. The Bureau will most emphatically contact everyone Caitlin knows. We’ve just got to beat them to it. And, given that we have a family connection, we’re hoping you can help us do just that.”
With that, Casey brought up Caitlin’s Instagram page, and swiveled the screen around so it faced Maureen. “I’m going to show you some photos and posts that Caitlin put up on her key social media account—Instagram, where she has a strong social media presence. All the people here use what are called ‘handles.’ Think of them as nicknames for themselves. Like you might use ‘@lovingmom’ as your handle, rather than Maureen McKay. There would be a page dedicated to you, and you would decide what about yourself you wanted displayed there: a photo of you, additional photos of your family, a bio of sorts, maybe your interests, that kind of thing. There would be links to your followers, who you would develop over time. In any case, Emma, the social media guru on our team, has dug deep into Caitlin’s social media presence and sorted things out for you. Pages, handles, bios, lists of followers—the whole nine yards.”
Maureen frowned. “You know, of course, that I understand very little of what you just said.”
“That’s okay.” Casey gave her a rueful smile. “I just gave you an overview. I promise that Ryan will give you more details and a more thorough explanation. Even though social media isn’t his thing, he more than gets it. But I don’t want to waste any of the time you have with Claire and me. Ryan coming over and having long visits with you is a natural occurrence. Not so for us. So I want to move things along. To that end, let’s start with the handles, see if any of them strikes a chord as belonging to friends Caitlin mentioned. That would be a huge plus.”
Casey was just about to start by asking about @mimosagirl121 when they all heard footsteps approaching from upstairs, followed by Kennedy calling, “Aunt Maureen?” as she padded down.
Maureen shot Casey a worried look.
“Before we leave, I’ll find a way to show you the most pressing handles and photos that are on my list,” Casey said in a quiet voice, closing her iPad. “Hopefully, something will ring a bell. The rest I’ll email you from the car. Review them as quickly as you can. Ryan will be here later. He’ll finish up the process with you. Now go ahead to Kennedy. We’ll wait here.”
Maureen nodded and rose to her feet. “I’m right here, lovey,” she called back, heading for the staircase. “We have some visitors, and I was just chatting with them.”
As Kennedy came into view, Casey could see that she was wearing flowered PJs, fluffy slippers, and that she was reaching behind her neck to fasten a pendant. Her head came up and she gazed toward the living room with red-rimmed eyes—and a touch of apprehension. “Is it people from the FBI?”
“No, lovey, not the FBI. Friends of Uncle Ryan’s. They came to talk to me, and to you.”
The anxiety on Kennedy’s face was supplanted by interest. “Which friends of Uncle Ryan’s?”
“Come and I’ll introduce you. One of them you already know.” Maureen finished the task of fastening the pendant, giving Kennedy an approving smile. “Good girl. I’m glad you listened to me and took off your necklace last night. It’s dangerous to sleep in it.”
Kennedy nodded. “I know. Mommy tells me the same thing. It sits on my nightstand every night.” A closer, more curious look into the living room, and a shy smile as she recognized Claire.
“Hi,” she greeted her. “You’re not just a friend. You’re Uncle Ryan’s girlfriend. You’re very pretty, and I can tell from the way he looks at you that he likes you a lot.” She screwed up her nose. “Maybe more than likes.”
