“No, right, anyway.” Sybil batted a hand around like she could bat away her embarrassment. “Absolutely, let’s just—”
“Let’s focus on Betty,” Zeke said, and Sybil noddedYesabsolutely. She was very good at multitasking, but this was too much for even her.
Something occurred to her. A puzzle piece already fitting into a slot. “That night when she went out,” Sybil said. “And Julian panicked, thinking she had gone—I didn’t really get why he cared at the time.”
“Holy shit,” Zeke said.
“Do you have any Scotch tape?” Sybil stood, made her way to the kitchen counters, started opening the drawers beneath.
“I don’t think so,” Zeke said, just as Sybil pulled out a roll triumphantly.
“When all of this is over, we need to familiarize you with your own life,” she said, moving back toward him and grabbing the folder off the table.
“What are we doing?”
“We’re building an evidence wall.”
“Sybil—”
“I know, this isn’t an episode ofDateline,” she said, and she did really know that. These were two people who were real to her, whom she had come to love. She wasn’t solving a sensationalized television bit, and this wasn’t some morbid podcast.
“If we think Betty is gone, we need to call the police,” Zeke said.
“Absolutely, but…” Sybil chewed on it before she said anything. She flopped over, touched her toes, tried to do those stupid stretches as if that would ensure that the blood was flowing to her brain and she wouldn’t sound like a conspiracist who had consumed too much real crime. Even if she had. She righted herself. “What if she left by choice?”
“You mean what if she’s avoiding us?”
“Maybe yes. She could just be with Caleb, and her phone is on silent. That would be logical.” Sybil needed to believe that Betty was okay, even if it was naïve, even if on one of her shows, this would be when the baritone voice said,Betty Jones had not returned home in three days.
“But the audition,” Zeke said.
“Right.” Sybil dropped her chin to her chest. “The audition.” She resented that she was so exhausted that her brain was already forgetting critical facts.
“And Julianknewher,” Zeke said.
“But she didn’t seem to know him.”
There was a rhythm now between them, like they were volleying tennis balls back and forth.
Zeke paused, then pulled out his own phone. “Wait a second.”
Sybil slid into the seat next to him, like they were two middle schoolers working on a science project. He scrolled until he found what he was looking for, and his eyes widened.
“I knew I was remembering this right.”
This time, he passed his phone to Sybil. It was the chat from the first few nights they met on the Insomniacs board.
“Oh my god.” Sybil put her hand up over her mouth.
“He set us up,” Zeke said.
Sybil reread the back-and-forth. It was undeniable now, what Julian had done. He’d been the one to suggest that they meet in person that first week. He’d been the one to suggest the diner.
He’d been watching Betty all this time.
38
Night Fourteen
