Now it was time to watch and see how she picked up the pieces.
3
The door clicked shut behind her and a shaky breath rattled from her throat. Finally, he was gone. She could breathe a little easier without him staring at her across the table with his accusing gray eyes. He’d be back, though, she was sure of it. But if seeing Agent Graham Grassi again meant he’d found Becca, then she’d welcome the opportunity.
She retrieved her phone, unlocked the screen, and pulled up Pete’s number. Maybe she could clear this mess all up. She didn’t blame Suzi for panicking and calling the police if Pete was so late in getting Becca home, but there’s no way he took Becca for some sex-trafficking ring. Pete could be an ass sometimes, but he was a good guy. He’d always been so kind to Becca.
And she’d never be able to live with herself if she’d been blind to who he really was. The pizza she’d eaten for lunch churned in her stomach.
No way he could have carried on such a charade for four months.
No way she could have let a pedophile into her life…into her bed. Unshed tears gathered at the corners of her eyes and she sniffed them back.
No, Agent Grassi had to have mixed up his facts. That was the only explanation.
Pressing Pete’s contact information, she held the phone to her ear. Her heart pounded as it rang. One…two…three times.
Come on Pete, just answer the damn phone.
“The number you’ve dialed is no longer in service. Please hang up and try your call again.”
Apprehension sent chills up her spine. She pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at the screen. She’d dialed the number programmed under Pete’s name. The same number she’d called for months. Maybe he’d forgotten to pay his bill or something. She’d send him a text instead. If he was connected to Wi-Fi, it should still go through.
Hey Pete. Call me when you get this. It’s important.
A smalldingsounded from her phone and she glanced at the screen. Red letters appeared under the green box.
Message failed to deliver.
Her heart slammedagainst her chest. Her mouth got dry and tears burned her eyes. Doubt spiraled through her mind. She had to call Suzi. Clicking out of her messages, she pulled up Suzi’s name and waited for her to answer.
Ring, ring, ring.
With every second that passed, Mickey’s heart raced faster and faster. Why wasn’t Suzi answering? She set the phone down beside the pictures. Her hand trembled as she picked up the one of Pete and Becca. They stood outside Becca’s favorite frozen yogurt shop. The side of her mouth hitched up in a small smile. Becca’s loose curls hung around her cherub face and her upturned nose wrinkled as she squinted toward the sky. Leave it to Becca to talk him into frozen yogurt so early in the day. Shelaid it back down and then picked up another picture. Her blood turned to ice.
A young girl around Becca’s age stared up at Pete with a bright smile on her small face. The coloring of the girl was hard to identify in the grainy picture, but there was no denying Pete was the man who held her hand on the busy street. Even with the baseball hat pulled low over his face and his body turned at an angle. She’d bought him that hat when they’d went to their first Cubs game together. Disgust swirled in her gut and bile slid up the back of her throat. What was Pete doing with this girl?
She glancedat the time stamp in the upper right-hand corner. August 12, 3:25 p.m. Her sharp gasp rang loud in the empty kitchen. The day after her birthday. Pete had told her he’d be out of town that day. He’d booked a lavish suite at the Hyatt where they’d spent a romantic evening together, and he’d left before she’d even woken up the next morning.
Nausea rolled in her stomach, but she pushed past it and picked up the next picture. Another girl no older than eight held Pete’s hand. This time he wore a different baseball hat and his back was to the camera. But it was him. She was sure of it. She forced her gaze to the time stamp. August 20, 5:45 p.m. The day before she flew back from Mexico and almost died. The day before she’d met Agent Grassi.
She dropped the picture on the table and picked up the card he’d left.Graham Grassi. Special Agent, FBI. What were the odds they’d been on the same plane that almost ended their lives, and now he was investigating the disappearance of Becca? She should have asked him why he’d even been on the plane in the first place. Usually, the crew was aware when law enforcement agents were on board. No one had known about Agent Grassi. And now her goddaughter’s life was in his hands.
Becca.
Mickey hung her head in her hands and memories of her goddaughter assaulted her. Suzi had been her best friend since the third grade, and the day Becca had been born was still one of the happiest of Mickey’s life. She loved her like she was her own and had been a part of all of Becca’s milestones. Her chest tightened and pressure built inside her. Each shallow breath she drew in became more painful than the last. Gasping for air, she leaned forward and pressed her forehead to her knees.
She needed to get it together. Falling apart wouldn’t help anything. Straightening in her seat, she filled her lungs with a deep breath and then slowly released it through parted lips. Each breath slowed her rapidly beating heart and brought clarity to her frazzled mind. She had to talk to Suzi.
Mickey picked her phone up again and called Suzi. Still no answer. Tears slid down her face, splattering on the pictures and soaking through the glossy paper. Sniffing back her tears and wiping the wetness from her cheeks, she beat back her emotions and straightened her spine. She couldn’t just sit here; she had to do something. Grabbing her purse off the counter, she slung it over her shoulder and ran out the door.
The humid air smacked her in the face as she stepped out into the sun. The curls around her neck tightened and sweat gathered at her temples. She pushed her hair back and rounded the corner to sprint the two blocks to Suzi’s apartment. Her pace quickened as the building came into view, and she pushed past the fast-paced pedestrians to get to the door.
The setup of Suzi’s building was similar to her own. She jogged up the three steps to the top of the stoop and pressed the buzzer connected to Suzi’s apartment to get let into the building.
Crackling sounded through the speaker before a voice spoke. “Who’s there?”
Mickey tilted her head, trying to pinpoint the high-pitched voice. She reached out and pressed her finger against the off-white button for the intercom. “It’s Mickey.”
