My rental car crept down the road. I would’ve gone faster, but there were cars parked on either side—police cars in front of the house, Lilah’s car in the driveway, friends and neighbors up and down the curb in every direction. There was barely enough room to squeeze into the driveway.
I barely got the car in park before I had the door open. Luckily, I remembered to hold it open long enough for Elvis to hop off after me. After a bit of a struggle with the airline since I didn’t have an approved dog carrier to stow him under my seat, they’d let me buy out the entire row for my K9 companion. I wasn’t entirely sure if that was kosher on their part, but I’d been so frantic at that point that I think they took pity on me.
Elvis had been a trouper, sitting quietly and gazing out the window. He’d barked a few times at dangerous looking clouds, but he’d managed to charm a pack of crackers off the stewardess. In all honesty, he’d been just the distraction I needed to keep my thoughts from taking a dark turn.
I took the front steps two at a time and threw open the front door without knocking. “Mom? Lilah? Where are you?”
“Gav, is that you?” Lilah’s voice shouted, barely heard over the racket.
The inside of the house was madness. To my left, the living room was bustling, fliers covering the entire surface of the dining room table. Neighbors I’d known for my entire life gathered there, picking up huge stacks of them to pass out or hang up or whatever other mission Lilah assigned them. I didn’t even have to ask to have known it was all her doing.
“Gav?” The crowd parted so she could slip through. She strode toward me in her power suit, dark hair impeccable, heels sharp staccato notes on the hardwood floor. “Thank God you’re here.” She threw her arms around my neck, hanging on for dear life.
With firm hands, she straightened her jacket. You’d never know by looking at her that she was frazzled. Lilah never gave her emotions away. “We’ve got a good system going here. Fliers here for any of our neighbors and friends to stop in and take. I’ve got them down in Manchester all the way up to Montpelier.” She slipped through the crowd again and I followed in her wake. This time we stopped at the small table in the breakfast nook. Three teenagers sat there, gaze intent on their laptops. “I’ve got some of Daph’s friends monitoring social media here and getting her information shared. So far there hasn’t been any activity on her page, but you know how she is with that stuff. She’s not on it all that much anyway.”
She turned and waved at one of the women in the kitchen. “Some of Mom’s friends from work. We’re making sure someone’s making food at all times to hand out to anyone who’s helping and to make sure Mom’s still eating.” A few more steps had us outside the office. Inside, Lilah’s husband, Kevin, sat with a phone to his ear. “Kevin’s working the phones. Keeping in touch with the hospitals and jails. Darlene’s on phone duty too, since there isn’t much else she can do being on the other side of the country.”
“What about NamUs?” I stumbled over the abbreviation and pulled up my text from Bianca. “The, uh, National Missing and Unidentified Persons System.”
“Great idea.” With purpose, she strode into the office, plucked a stack of Post-it notes from one of the desk’s cubbies, scribbled on it, and slapped it on the desk. She pointed at it with her pen and Kevin gave her a thumbs-up.
“Okay, so, Mom’s in the living room with the police. They’re not being as cooperative as we’d like, giving us some run around because Daphne is eighteen so that ‘limits’ them.” She made a face. “I threw around some legal terms and threatened to sue them. Of course I don’t actually have grounds for that but they don’t know that. They’ve been a little more helpful since.”
I scrolled through the texts I’d been getting on Ben’s phone. There were a handful from Rachel that I read quickly. “Nothing on Daphne’s phone. Rachel says it’s not turned on so there isn’t much she can do to track it. Ummm . . .” I squinted as I tried to decipher some of Rachel’s more technical language. “Best she can tell Daphne was headed south. The last ping on her phone was somewhere near Boston.”
Lilah’s lips pinched to a thin line. “Boston? So the fliers are useless here.” Her red-painted fingernail tapped her chin. “I’ve got a few contacts in Boston, though. I’ll send them the fliers, get them networking down that way.” She closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath, finally dropping her guard since it was just the two of us here in the hallway.
I tucked her against me and squeezed her tight. “We’ll find her.”
She sniffed, rearranging the cool mask she wore over her features. “Of course we will.”
Lilah set off on her mission, and I stepped into the living room ready for mine. Mom sat on the navy sofa, hands folded in her lap, and across from her a police officer sat on the coffee table, a notepad in hand.
“Can you think of any place she might have gone?” he asked.
“Don’t you think if I knew where she might have gone I’d already be looking there?” she snapped.
I cleared my throat, and had to act fast for Mom’s rapid bear hug.
“Gavin, oh thank God you’re here.” She drew back to look up at me, tears welling in her eyes. “You know Daphne so well, maybe you can give the officers some help.” She threw a sharp look at the officer. “They can certainly use some.”
“I’m sure they’re doing their best, Mom.” I directed her back to the couch, keeping her hand in mine as we sat. “How can I help, Officer?”
An hour passed, chock full of questions. Who were Daphne’s friends? Could I think of anywhere she might have gone? Had I noticed any changes in her behavior lately? Did I think she might have been using drugs? Had she mentioned any strange occurrences? Were there any new people in her life? And on and on and on it went.
All the while I fielded texts from the guys, giving them what little updates I had to give. We were quickly running out of leads. With her cell phone off we couldn’t track her. Without her using her debit card we could only tell she’d bought lunch at True Brew yesterday afternoon before she’d disappeared entirely. The police had already spoken to the manager, who remembered seeing Daphne, but had no knowledge of where she might have gone when she left. Even our social media outreach was giving us jack shit. The post had been shared almost a thousand times but so far had gotten us nowhere. Ben had even posted something on our official page, and that one had been shared across the globe. All that influence, so much reach, and still nothing.
As hours faded into the past, anxiety slipped around my neck like a noose, tightening until I could barely breathe. My heart slammed itself against my ribcage like it was a prisoner trying to escape. I was only holding myself together with sheer determination and the knowledge that I was my family’s anchor. That was my role, the one I’d always played.
That day, for the first time in forever, being the anchor felt like drowning.
I slumped into a recliner, fatigue starting to seep in. Outside the stars had come out to play and the moon was painting shadows across the living room. Dani could probably tell what time it was just from that, but I wasn’t nearly as talented. All I knew is that it was late, the hour probably creeping toward midnight.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. I’d really fucked things up with Dani today. Obviously, deep down, I knew she couldn’t just hop on a plane with me. But I’d wanted her to. No, not wanted, needed her to. I needed her, here. I needed someone I didn’t have to be strong in front of. Someone who was my anchor.
I glanced at my phone, or rather Ben’s phone, for the thousandth time today. Of all the messages I’d sent, all the calls I’d made, none of them had been to her. I’d had Ben send over her number after he’d recharged my phone, but she’d said it was only for emergencies. I wasn’t entirely sure whether that meant my emergencies or hers.
Food. I needed to eat. The recliner clunked as it rocked backward, and Elvis appeared from wherever he’d been napping, toenails clicking across the floor as he followed at my heels. Light slipped underneath the office door, Kevin’s voice still sounding quietly behind it. Lilah was probably in there as well even though I’d told her to go to bed. I’d been more successful with Mom, but she was practically sleeping on her feet by the time she gave in.
The kitchen’s hustle and bustle was absent with the late hour, and when I opened the refrigerator the bright light streaming from inside it was the only thing illuminating the whole room. The shelves were packed with Tupperware and foil-wrapped items. I picked one at random—brisket—–and another—roasted veggies. That’d do.
At my feet, Elvis started whining. “Hungry, little fella?”
He let out a huff and pawed at the ground. Tongue going wild for something half-way underneath the refrigerator. I sighed. “I see we still need to do some work on refining your palate.”
Getting down on one knee, I cautiously wedged my fingertips under the crack between the refrigerator and the floor, fearing what gross thing I might find. A semi-sharp edge pricked the tip of my finger, and with a little wiggling I managed to pull it free.
I held a hastily torn piece of loose leaf paper, folded in half. A peanut butter thumbprint decorated the bottom right corner. “You a big fan of the PB, Elvis?”
He barked.
“Good choice, my man.” I slid the paper on the counter next to my brisket, flipping on the lights so I could find a plate without knocking a whole stack of the damn things out of the cabinet on accident. Once it was loaded down with beef and veggies, I tucked it in the microwave and turned my attention to the refrigerator’s buried treasure.
What the hell was it? A note about a doctor’s appointment? An old grocery list?
Before I got a chance to find out, my phone started ringing.
My pulse roared.
There was only one reason someone would be calling this late.