His thoughts turn to Nora. Does she believe what they’re saying? Does she think he murdered his daughter? He would give anything to turn the clock back, for none of this to have happened.
He thinks about calling her. He can’t call her home phone because someone else might pick it up. She’s probably thrown away her secret burner phone by now, but maybe she hasn’t. He could try calling her tomorrow, when her husband is at work, like he used to. He could use a pay phone, if he can find one; he doesn’t want to risk calling from the hotel, and the police took his cell. He wants her to know that he’s kept her out of his troubles, that he’s honorable. He wants her to know that he loves her. He wants to tell her that he’s innocent, and he wants her to believe him.
* * *
? ? ?
The next morning, Thursday, Gully is having her second coffee after only three hours’ sleep. The search teams, out there in the rain, have turned up nothing. This afternoon they will be at forty-eight hours missing. Her heart sinks at the thought. She feels like she has a ticking clock inside her mind.
Officers have been to every storage facility within the area that William Wooler might have reached. They have shared his photo, but no one remembers a man looking like him taking a storage unit and paying with cash. If Wooler did it, wherever he might have hidden the body, he hasn’t been anywhere since to move it—they know because they’ve had eyes on him. If he disposed of the body in the short amount of time he would have had, he did a very good job of it. What might they have overlooked?
Their next step will be to shift the search to the rural area to the east of town, where Ryan Blanchard claims to have been. They don’t have enough to get his cell records to confirm where he was. They need more than just an anonymous witness, even though a child’s life is at stake.
“Gully?” an officer interrupts her.
She turns her head. “Yes, what is it?”
“Someone here to see you. A Mrs. Seton.”
Jenna’s mother. Gully stands up and follows him out to where she’s waiting, sitting primly in one of the plastic chairs. Alice Seton’s face seems relieved when she sees her. “Mrs. Seton, what can I do for you?” Gully asks, hoping that Jenna might have remembered something. She hasn’t brought the girl with her.
“Please, call me Alice. Can we talk?”
“Of course,” Gully says and leads her down the hall to an empty interview room, where they sit down. Alice takes a quick look around the room, as if expecting more somehow, but there’s not much to see. “What is it?” Gully asks.
Alice shifts in her chair. “I’m not sure I should even be here,” she begins.
“If you have anything that you think might be relevant to Avery’s disappearance, you must share it with us. It’s up to us to decide if it’s meaningful or not.”
Alice nods. “I know. That’s why I’m here. I just—I feel a little uncomfortable about it, you know? I don’t have any proof or anything.”
Gully nods. “That’s okay, just tell me.”
“I was shocked when Jenna said that Avery told her she had a boyfriend. I mean, my daughter’s the same age. It made me really uncomfortable—you don’t like to think of that kind of thing at this age.”
“Yes,” Gully says, wishing she would get to the point.
“Well, there’s this boy. He’s about fifteen or sixteen, I think.” She hesitates.
“What boy?”
“Adam Winter. He lives on the other side of the street from us, a few houses down from the Woolers. And . . . he’s a bit weird.”
“Weird how?”
“He’s just different. Like autistic, maybe? I don’t know. He won’t talk to you or look you in the eye. He goes to a special school. I see him around, but he’s always by himself. He doesn’t seem to have any friends.” She pauses. “Avery doesn’t really have any friends either. I mean, I know she and Jenna are sort of friends, but Jenna doesn’t really like her, she’s just nice to her. Avery’s a bit . . . sometimes she’s hard to like.”
Gully has to bite back her distaste at the other woman’s sanctimonious attitude. “Did Jenna say anything about this boy Adam?” Gully asks.
“Not really. I asked her if it could be him and she said she didn’t know.” She continues. “But this boy, he’s very good-looking. Maybe Avery had a crush on him? I saw them together once. They were talking on the street. I thought it was a bit odd because he doesn’t really talk to anyone.”
“Any idea what they were talking about?”
“He was showing her this drone he had. He’s really into that drone.”
“A drone,” Gully says.
“Yeah, it’s like this robot that flies.”
“I know what a drone is.”
“Anyway, I was wondering if maybe he could be the ‘boyfriend’ Avery was talking about. I thought I should let you know.” She adds, “And he is odd. I’ve told Jenna to avoid him.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Seton,” Gully says, standing up. She’s eager to get rid of her and get back to work.
But Alice doesn’t get up just yet. “I saw something last night,” she says.
“Yes?” Gully prompts.
“I was up quite late and saw you and the other detective take Ryan Blanchard away in a car. Is he under suspicion? Do you think he might be the one who took Avery?”
Gully shakes her head. “I can’t discuss that.”
Finally, Alice stands and grabs her bag, and says, “I mean, you just never know, do you?”
* * *
? ? ?
When Gully is finished with Alice Seton, Bledsoe sees her and waves her into his office. She can tell that he’s not happy.
“What is it?” she asks, sitting down in front of his desk.
“We got the preliminary forensics back on Wooler’s car. Nothing.” He slaps the report down on his desk in disgust. “Literally nothing. He must have vacuumed the whole thing out.”
“When would he have done that?” Gully asks. “He wouldn’t have had much time.”
Bledsoe turns to her. “If he did it, this fucker is smarter than he looks. He’s dumped her body someplace we can’t find it. Maybe he stopped at a car wash and vacuumed out his trunk. Get someone checking all the car washes in the area—maybe there’s camera footage or maybe someone will remember him.” She nods. “Who keeps their trunk that clean? It’s been vacuumed recently, that’s for sure.”
Nineteen
Gwen Winter is a single mom. She has one child, Adam, and she loves him more than life itself. But Adam has autism, and life is not easy for either one of them. She worries about his future. It’s a constant battle, navigating the world on behalf of a child with autism, and she is exhausted all the time. Her husband left them when Adam was only four; he wasn’t up to the challenge. He couldn’t deal with the meltdowns; the public embarrassment; the judgment; the lack of a normal life, doing normal things. Life with Adam wasn’t what they’d expected when they decided to start a family. They couldn’t do the same activities other families did without thinking—not with Adam’s sensory issues and his behavioral problems. So Mark left and she has had to do it all. The problems with the schools have been the worst. It’s better now that Adam’s in a special school, where they seem to understand him better. He’s less upset, calmer. And there are kids there who are also on the spectrum, who share his interests. Bright kids who experience the world differently.