What kind of pictures? Exactly? Of who?
I don’t know.
Can’t you find out?
Not easily.
Please ask.
I can try. But also you should stop worrying.
Easy for you to say.
I don’t mean it like that. You know I’m here for you.
Then help me. Please.
Cleo
THIRTEEN HOURS GONE
I sit on one of the benches in the little triangle of green across the street from Lauren’s building, my brain stuck on a loop:My dad was having an affair; my dadishaving an affair; he lied to my face; my mom is missing.These facts don’t line up well, no matter which way I look at them, and I have tried every single angle.
Detective Wilson will certainly think the affair is suspicious.Ithink it is. Do I really believe it’s possible that my dad did something to my mom? No. I still do not. But I’ve entertained the possibility. I’ve been willing to ask myself the question. And that has torn a hole in something—something delicate and irreplaceable.
And Bella, of all people? My dad’s obnoxious assistant who is, what,fiveyears older than I am?
I open my mom’s computer on my lap. Find a compelling alternative suspect. That’s what I need to do.
I head back onto the dating site, to all those little squares of subpar men who probably abduct unsuspecting women all the time. Looking at them makes me feel both better and worse. Better because these guys do seem much more likely than my dad to have done something to my mom. Worse for the exact same reason.
I cut and paste a message into each one of the chats:Hey! How are you?I move fast, so I don’t second-guess my plan. Movingfast also saves me from having to reread the awkward conversations, to think again about my mom lowering herself to them. But maybe that was what happened to you when your husband cheated with someone half your age. And then your daughter acted like she wished you were dead.
After that, I shoot off a text to my mom’s assistant, Jules:Can you call me? It’s about my mom.It’s not even 7:00 a.m., too early to be texting. But Jules will understand. She’s a good person, and she loves my mom. She’s got to be worried, too.
Cleo, hi! Great to hear from you! Can I call you back in a little bit? xoxo
In a little bit?AndGreat to hear from you!Not exactly the level of care and concern I was expecting.
Sure np,I write back.Call me when you can.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for such an early bird.”
When I look up, Detective Wilson is standing in front of me, eyeing me with a furrowed brow.Shit.And my mom’s incriminating laptop is right there next to me on the bench, in plain sight. The detective sits down on the other side of it and gazes up Broadway, which T’s in front of us at the little green. Instinctively, I shove my phone in the pocket of my hoodie but resist the urge to hide the laptop.
“How would you know if I’m an early bird or not?” It comes out more rudely than I intended. But then, she did just show up out of nowhere. “Were you following me?”
“Mmm,” she hums, looking again up Broadway, still nearly empty at that early hour. “I went to your dorm this morning, but it was so early and I didn’t want to wake you—thought I’d wait a bit before going up to see you. Then I saw you leave. So, technically, I did follow you here. But it wasn’t premeditated.”
“Oh, in that case …”
“You don’t seem happy about it.”
“Let’s see: My mom ismissing.There wasbloodon our floor. And now you’re followingmeinstead of finding her?”
“Fair enough.” She smiles slightly. “I wanted to give you the opportunity to speak with me alone. Back there at the house—it seemed like maybe there was something on your mind. But that maybe you weren’t comfortable sharing it in front of your dad.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
