“That’s okay,” Noah assured her. “In this case, it’s a good thing. So Cassidy didn’t want to report this guy because she didn’t want to cause issues with her parents, is that right?”
Wren nodded.
Josie had no frame of reference for what the dynamics of a family were like post-divorce or post-separation. She hadn’t had a normal or stable childhood. Still, she wondered more and more if the strain on Cassidy’s relationship with Turner had as much to do with Dani’s unwitting influence as it did with Turner’s past sins or work obligations. Regardless, the thought that this entire chain of events might have been prevented if Cassidy had felt comfortable enough to talk to either of her parents about the man she saw “hanging around” was a gut punch.
“Did Cassidy say anything else about this guy?” Josie asked. “Give a description? A vehicle of some kind?”
“She said, ‘some old white guy in a baseball cap.’ That’s it. Well, that’s all I heard. She might have told her friend more. I only overheard a little of their conversation. I didn’t hear her say anything after that in class, and then school was over.”
“Do you know her friend’s name?” Noah said.
“Only her first name.” Wren grimaced. “Toni. Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Josie told her. “We can find her through Cassidy’s social media or the school. You’ve told us a lot. This is really helpful.”
“It is?”
Noah nodded. “Definitely. I’m really glad you told us all this stuff. Thank you.”
Josie gave Wren’s hand a squeeze and let go. Then she bumped her shoulder against Wren’s. “Yes, thank you.”
A long, quiet moment passed. To Josie’s surprise, it didn’t feel awkward. No. It felt right. The three of them as a unit. Wren finally getting comfortable enough to discuss serious things with them. Maybe they were forming a bond. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.
“So,” Wren said. “Um, do you guys think Cassidy is dead?”
Neither Josie nor Noah answered right away. Just when they thought they were getting a handle on the whole guardianship thing, some new challenge popped up. Even small ones felt big and fraught with the possibility of failure. The sheer volume of difficult questions they never imagined having to answer as parents—or guardians—was astounding. How did parents do this? Did they really just wing it? How did they know the right thing to say? Wren was fourteen. Lying to her wasn’t an option. She’d see right through it. Telling her that according to their experience and the statistics in these types of cases, the probability that Cassidy was dead was very high was also not an option. Josie didn’t want to scare the hell out of her. But, as Wren had made clear at the outset of this conversation, she was already well aware of the types of crimes that happened in the world.
Before Josie could formulate an answer, Noah spoke, his voice calm in the way that had soothed Josie for years now. “Wren, you don’t need us to tell you that there is a possibility Cassidy has been killed. You’re smart enough and mature enough to figure that out on your own. It’s a terrifying thought. Devastating. It can make you anxious. Keep you up at night. You wouldn’t be human if it didn’t. For me and Josie? As far as we’re concerned, until the evidence proves otherwise, Cassidy is alive and it is critical that we find her—and her mother—as soon as possible. That’s where we direct all of our mental energy.”
“Have you ever found a girl? Like, alive?”
“Yes,” Josie said. “We have.”
“Oh. That’s good then, right?”
“That’s always the outcome we hope for,” Noah said.
THIRTY
Josie set a paper bag in front of Hummel. Grease stains bled through the side of it. The smell was enough to make her stomach growl despite having just eaten two leftover T-Rex pancakes. She and Noah had had breakfast with Wren, Misty, and Harris before Noah left for his shift and Josie had a shower and several hours of sleep. When she woke up, she’d found a stack of pancakes in the fridge. She’d enjoyed them at the time but now she wondered if she should have gotten a giant cheeseburger when she and Gretchen stopped to get Hummel food. Gretchen was out in the car finishing hers.
Hummel sat at the stainless-steel table in the middle of what Josie thought of as his processing room. His laptop was open in front of him. The rest of the surface was clean, so she didn’t have to worry about the grease soaking through the bag disturbing any evidence or equipment. Hummel didn’t have ready access to takeout all the way out here. Even food delivery apps wouldn’t always make the trek. His domain was inside the fences of the department’s impound lot, which was guarded by an officer at all times. He worked out of a drab cinderblock building with an unmarked door and two garage bays. The only windows were atthe top of the bay doors, and those had been covered with white laminate to ensure no one could see inside.
He looked up from his computer, eyes narrowed. “What’s that?”
“Your favorite,” Josie said. “A double-bacon cheeseburger with everything except onions, from Lannan’s Grill.”
“Fries?”
“Do you really think that little of me?”
“With a side of ranch dressing instead of ketchup?”
“Now I’m just insulted.”
Josie counted two beats until his face transformed from a scowl to a giant smile. Slapping his laptop shut, he took the bait, tearing the paper bag in half and using it as a makeshift placemat. He took a big bite of the cheeseburger first. When Gretchen walked in, he grunted at her and kept eating. They watched him demolish his dinner in silence. Finally, he acknowledged them again.
“What do you want?”
