Wilde bit back the sigh. He gave it a moment, and then let the moment land with a dull thud. “You said ‘a few reasons.’”
“Yes.”
“One is you feel Peter is dead. What are the others?”
Vicky spread her hands. “Where else would he be?”
“I don’t know,” Wilde said.
“If Peter were alive,” she continued, “well, where is he? I mean, do you know something about the situation I don’t?”
“No. But I’d like to look for him anyway, if that’s okay.”
“Why?” Then Vicky Chiba saw it. “Oh, wait, I get it.” She held high Wilde’s phone before passing it back to him. “You feel obligated. Peter sent you this distress message, and you didn’t reply.”
Vicky Chiba didn’t say it accusingly, but then again, her tone didn’t take him off the hook either.
“I blame myself too, if that helps. I mean, look at Peter’s face.” Vicky picked up a framed photograph of four people—Peter, Vicky, and what Wilde assumed were the other two siblings.
“Is that your other sister and brother?”
Vicky nodded. “The four Bennett children. I’m the oldest. That’s my sister Kelly. The two of us were thick as thieves. Then came our brother Silas. Kelly and I spoiled him rotten until, well, until Peter came along. Look at this face. Just look at it.”
Wilde did as she asked.
“You can sense it, can’t you?”
Wilde said nothing.
“Peter’s innocence, his na?veté, his fragility. The rest of us, well, we are attractive enough, I guess. But Peter? He had that intangible. These reality shows—sure, they’re all fake and scripted, but the viewer still somehow sees through all that and finds the real you. And the real Peter was pure goodness. You know the expression ‘too good for this world’？”
Wilde nodded. He debated asking why someone “too good” would have roofied his sister-in-law, but he imagined that Vicky Chiba would either deny it or shut down entirely, and neither of those results would be fruitful right now; instead, he asked, “You said you blame yourself for Peter.”
“Yes.”
“Could you tell me why?”
“Because I got him into this,” Vicky said. “I knew he’d be a star, and then I did a tarot reading that encouraged me to be active, not reactive—that’s what it said over and over, ‘Be active, not reactive,’ and I had always been so reactive, my whole life—so I filled out the application for Peter to be on the show. I didn’t think anything would come of it. Or maybe I knew. I can’t say anymore. But I didn’t really comprehend the long-term impact on Peter’s psyche.”
“In what way?” Wilde asked.
“Fame changes everyone. I know that sounds like a cliché, but no one gets out unscathed. When that fame beacon hits you, it’s warm and soothing and the most addictive drug in the world. Every celebrity denies it—they pretend to be above craving fame—but it’s so much worse for reality stars.”
“How so?”
“No reality star stays a star. There is always an expiration date. I worked for a while in Hollywood. I always heard, ‘The bigger the star, the nicer they are.’ And you know what? That’s true—the big stars are often really nice—but do you know why?”
Wilde shook his head.
“It’s because they can afford to be. Those big superstars are secure that the fame will always be in plentiful supply for them. But for reality stars? It’s the opposite. Reality stars know that beacon is at its brightest when it first hits you and that it will only dim with time.”
Wilde gestured to the family photograph in her hand. “And that’s what happened to your brother?”
“I thought Peter handled it as well as anyone could. I thought he’d built a life with Jenn, a happy one, but when it all fell apart…” Her voice faded away. Her eyes grew moist. “Do you really think Peter is alive?”
“I don’t know.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” she said, trying to sound resolute. “If Peter was alive, he’d have contacted me.”
Wilde waited. Vicky Chiba would get there soon enough.
“But then again, if Peter had decided to leave this world”—Vicky Chiba stopped, blinked back the tears, regained her composure—“I think he would have contacted me. To let me know. To say goodbye.”
They both stood there for a moment. Then Wilde said, “Let’s go back for a second. When did you last see Peter?”