Everyone Here Is Lying(8)

She has worked missing child cases before, in Chicago, before relocating to Stanhope. She doesn’t think Bledsoe has ever run an investigation like this. Not here. He’s a bit defensive, and she’s younger, and a woman. He’ll take her suggestions, at least; he doesn’t shut her down. He’s not that bad. She’s seen worse.

She studies the two parents sitting across from her. They’ve answered all the questions put to them, about Avery, about her routines, who she knows, who the family knows, where they think she might have gone. They know that she likes to play in the woods and that there’s a tree house there that she often goes to. Her brother has already been there to look for her, but even so, they have sent a team to take a closer look.

Avery’s parents have been frank about her behavioral issues, describing a girl who is hard to manage and quite oppositional. For example, Avery is not on any medication for her ADHD because she refuses to take it. They’re on the edge of a precipice, waiting for news. The mother has been distraught but stoic, making an obvious effort to keep it together. The father interests her more. There’s something about him, something off. She doesn’t like to think it, but she does. It’s not her first rodeo. He seems to be hiding something. She senses that his frequent trips to look out the window for Avery are a show put on for their benefit. The mother doesn’t do anything like that. She simply looks terrified.

The uniformed policewoman who’s been in the kitchen with the son pops into the living room to say, “Michael’s just helped me put on a pot of coffee. Anybody want some?”

The two parents shake their heads in unison.

“Yes, please,” Gully says gratefully; it’s going to be a long night.

“Yes, great, thanks,” Bledsoe says.

Bledsoe turns back to the parents and asks, “Do you know of anyone who might have a grudge against you? Is there anyone you can think of who might want to harm Avery?”

Erin and William look at him in surprise. “Of course not,” Erin says.

William answers. “No. We’re just normal people. There’s no reason for anyone to harm our daughter.”

An uncomfortable silence falls because they all know the most likely reason someone might take a little girl.

“You’re a doctor?” Bledsoe says to William.

“Yes. I’m a GP with hospital privileges at Stanhope General. I have a practice downtown.”

“And you, Mrs. Wooler?”

“I’m a legal secretary. With a firm in town—Levitt and Levitt.”

He nods his head slowly. “Anyone angry at you?”

She pauses to think. “No. I’m just a secretary. Our firm doesn’t have any nasty cases. And anyway, it’s the lawyers they’d get mad at, not me.”

“Anyone angry at you, Dr. Wooler?” Bledsoe asks. “Have you lost a patient recently? A child perhaps?”

William shakes his head. “I’d remember that. No. Nothing out of the ordinary. Some sad cases, but natural illnesses. No one is angry at me that I know of.”

“So, no professional complaints against you?” Bledsoe persists.

“None,” William answers crisply.

Gully can smell the coffee coming from the kitchen. She stands up. “I’ll get the coffee.” She steps out of the living room. To her right is the front door and down the hall to her left is the kitchen. In the hall, closer to the front door, is a double line of coat hooks along the wall. The hall isn’t well lit, but she sees various jackets and coats hung up in two rows. The house has been searched already by the first officers on the scene. But Gully notices something that no one has mentioned. She sees a child-size jean jacket hanging on one of the hooks. She peers closer. It’s too small for Michael. This must be the jacket that they think Avery was wearing that day. What’s it doing here?

“Bledsoe?” she calls from the hall. “Can you come here a minute?”





Five


Gully feels her pulse quicken as Bledsoe joins her in the hall. She finds a light switch and flicks it on, filling the hall with light. The officer in the kitchen comes closer to see what they’re doing.

“Look at that,” Gully says, pointing with her chin. “A little girl’s jean jacket.”

Bledsoe takes in a deep breath beside her. “Fuck,” he mutters.

Erin and William now come into the hall. “What is it?” Erin asks.

“Is that your daughter’s jean jacket?” Bledsoe asks.

She looks at it, as if confused. “Yes.”

“You said she was wearing it when she left for school today,” Bledsoe says.

“I thought she was. Maybe she wasn’t. I’m not sure.”

“What’s your morning routine like?” Gully asks. “Who gets her ready for school, sends her out the door in the morning?”

“We both do,” Erin explains. “It’s a bit chaotic in the morning. Michael and Avery leave for school together. I saw them leaving this morning and I’m pretty sure she was wearing that jacket.” Her face looks sallow beneath the harsh overhead light.

Gully looks at William. He’s frowning. He looks ill. “Dr. Wooler, do you remember?”

“I don’t know. I saw them leave, said goodbye, but”—he turns to his wife and shakes his head—“I don’t think she was wearing it this morning.” He adds, “But I don’t know, I’m not very observant, I’m afraid.” He avoids Gully’s eye, and she wonders why.