As for the image of Annie at the scene, that would forever be branded into Laurie’s mind. She’d witnessed the crime scene firsthand, but that didn’t lessen the horror of seeing it again. It was hard to fathom that the near-skeletal remains with the cruelly broken legs would have been her mother-in-law. Laurie had often thought about what their relationship would have been like. Annie had been a beautiful woman, and David had been happy to share both the photographs and the happy memories of his childhood with her. Tragedy could often distort the truth, but David’s memories of his mother were so consistent and heartening that Laurie was sure they would have got along.
Hearing Remi arrive, Laurie scrolled to another page. It was a list of family members from that time, and there he was, Maurice Randall, brother of Frank. A statement had been taken from him, but he hadn’t been present at the sentencing, which explained why Laurie hadn’t remembered him.
“Do you live here?” said Remi, taking a seat opposite.
Laurie clicked the file shut. “No, I just like to get to work on time.”
“Ouch. I turn up for work early, trying to make an impression . . .”
“Stop muttering, and get me another coffee.”
“Yes sir, ma’am,” said Remi, dutifully grabbing her coffee cup.
When he returned, they set about planning the day’s activities. Remi agreed the Harrington case had to be the priority. He would continue quizzing the high school students, many of whom they’d yet to reach, and would make further inroads into the local residents and the CCTV images along the route Grace had taken.
“I’d like to dig a little deeper into the family dynamics,” said Laurie. “Glen and Sandra’s relationship appears strained, probably from Mr. Harrington working away so often.”
“With that in mind,” said Remi, “I was going to suggest I pay a visit to Houston. Quiz Mr. Harrington’s colleagues. Maybe find out if anyone else has been staying in that downtown apartment of his.”
“You old cynic.”
“Easy on the ‘old’， there.”
The suggestion that Glen Harrington was having an affair put her in mind of standing outside Rebecca Whitehead’s house last night. She shook off the image, which portrayed her as a wide-eyed, sweaty, jealous mess looking through the windows of the Victorian house in desperation. She wasn’t sure what relevance Glen Harrington having an affair might have to his daughter’s disappearance, but there could never be enough information when it came to family. The sad truth was that missing person cases often involved family members. And at this stage they had to consider the worst. Abduction, abuse, even homicide had to be considerations, and the Harringtons’ second home would need to be investigated.
“You’re right about the Houston trip,” said Laurie. “Get Abbey and Rodriquez to do the high school work. We can see how willing Glen Harrington is to give up the keys to his other home.”
The breeze had picked up as they left the station. Galveston was usually quite temperate, even during the winter months, but was infamous for its terrible storms, many of which resulted in catastrophic damage. She hadn’t really been listening that morning, but had heard something about a storm brewing near Cuba that could potentially reach the Texas coast. Such threats were commonplace, but still, she couldn’t help but wonder if the quickening breeze was portentous.
They took separate cars, as Remi would be heading to Houston afterward, and arrived at the Harrington house at the same time.
“No beach today,” said Remi, rubbing his arms from the cold breeze as they waited for the door to be answered.
After a couple of minutes, the door was opened by Tilly Moorfield. She was in her pajamas, having seemingly stayed the night. “Detective Campbell,” said the girl, peering out from behind her large glasses.
“Hi, Tilly. You’ve met Remi, Detective Armstrong, right?” said Laurie, wondering why Tilly was here again. She’d noted the odd way Sandra and Tilly interacted, and if she hadn’t known differently, she would have presumed the pair were mother and daughter.
“Yes, please come in,” said Tilly, as if it were her house she was inviting them into.
Both Glen and Sandra were heading down the polished wood staircase. Sandra wore a white T-shirt and baggy jogging bottoms that hid the shape of her long legs, her husband in jeans and a Harvard sweatshirt.
“Manage to get any sleep?” asked Laurie as Sandra ushered them through to the kitchen, where a fresh pot of coffee was waiting.
“I don’t think so,” said Sandra, pouring two coffees for Laurie and Remi without asking.
Glen Harrington poured himself a drink, not looking at his wife. “What news do you have for us?” he said.
“Nothing just yet, but I can assure you we’re doing everything we can,” said Laurie. “As we said yesterday, if you can think of anywhere Grace may have gone. Friends or family members, even if not local to Galveston?”
“We gave you the list yesterday,” said Glen, as his wife collapsed onto a kitchen chair with a grunt.
Laurie knew only too well how grief could take a physical toll. It wasn’t until months after Milly’s death that the pain of aching muscles, the sense of her internal organs being bruised and battered, began to fade. What troubled her now was that the Harringtons already carried those signs in their slumped body language, as if they were already grieving. Only Tilly remained alert. “Can you think of anywhere she would have gone?” Laurie asked the girl.
There was defiance in Tilly’s eyes, a sense of fight that at the moment was missing from Grace’s parents. “She wasn’t unhappy, you know. Yes, we had an argument, but that doesn’t mean she was so unhappy she wanted to get away from here.”
“We appreciate that, Tilly,” Remi said, “but it would still be good to eliminate every possibility.”
“I don’t think you appreciate it though. You’re acting like she has run away, but I think it’s worse than that.” Tilly lowered her eyes, catching the concerned glances from the parents.
“We’re not rushing to conclusions of any sort,” Laurie said. “I need you all to understand that. Our aim is to locate Grace as quickly as we can, and to that end we need you all to think.” She took a sip of her coffee, and then another, waiting for one of them to speak.
“You should check on that bitch again,” said Tilly, running from the kitchen in tears.
“Christ, amateur dramatics time again,” said Glen. “That’s all we need.”
“She’s worried, Glen,” said Sandra.
“Can’t she be worried somewhere else?”
Sandra shook her head in dismay. “I’ll speak to her, and together we’ll figure out if there is anywhere else Grace could have gone.”
“Thank you, Sandra,” said Laurie. “There was one place we’d like to check out. Your apartment in Houston.”
Laurie waited for the responses, but neither parent said anything.
“Could be a natural place for her to go if she wanted to get away from things,” said Remi.
Glen sighed. “Why the hell would she go to Houston? She doesn’t know anyone there.”