Chapter Fifty-Four Savannah
| Fifty-Four |
Savannah
She pushed open the gate to the walkway, ascended the stairs, and held her breath.
She pushed the button to ring the doorbell.
It was the old-fashioned kind, not the ubiquitous Ring camera everyone seemed to have these days.
She heard footsteps approaching. The door opened and she recognized Harrison from his photo on Facebook.
His hair was all white now, and he was more wrinkled than in his photos.
He raised his eyebrows and opened the screen door a few inches.
“Can I help you?”
“Mr. Masterson?”
“Yes? You are?”
“A friend of Devon’s. I was hoping I could talk to you.”
His expression changed immediately, and Savannah could practically feel his pain.
“Please, come in.”
He gestured toward the living room to the right of the hallway. The room was dark, depressing, the wallpaper a deep maroon with light pink flowers. It looked like the décor hadn’t been upgraded for years.
“Thank you.” She took a seat in one of the upholstered chairs facing a threadbare couch.
“How did you know Devon?” he asked as he sat across from her. She was relieved that he’d not asked her name. She hadn’t decided whether to make one up or tell him her real one.
“From yoga. Then I moved overseas for a few years. I tried calling her when I came back, but her phone goes to voicemail. One of the other women told me that she just left for some reason and cut ties with everyone. I don’t mean to intrude, but I was wondering if you’d heard from her.”
He shook his head, and his expression hardened.
“The police tried to triangulate her phone when she first went missing, but they said it must be turned off. I haven’t heard from her, but she didn’t leave.
Someone took her. She would never do that to me.
I just keep paying her phone bill. Hoping wherever she is she might get free and still have a way to contact me. ”
“I’m so sorry. So you think she met with foul play?”
“There’s no other explanation. She was happy.
Going to get married. Her fiancé called to tell me that she’d sent him a text breaking up with him.
That she wouldn’t answer his calls. He wanted to know if she was with me.
” Harrison shook his head. “It made no sense. She wouldn’t have done something like that over text.
Her mother, God rest her soul, and I raised her better than that. ” He crossed himself.
“What do you think happened?”
“Whoever took her must have sent that text.”
“Did you ever worry that her fiancé might have had something to do with her disappearance?”
He shook his head. “Bennett? No, of course not. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Famous writer. Bennett Bryson. Good man. I liked him a lot. The police checked him out, and they had no reason to suspect him. He was just as torn up as I was.”
“I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. Are you still in touch with Bennett?”
“Not really. It’s been a couple of years now. I think it became too hard for him to keep revisiting everything.”
There wasn’t anything else she could think of to ask. She rose and walked over to an end table where there was a picture of Devon and what Savannah assumed must be her mother. She picked it up to examine it more closely. Turning to Harrison, she asked, “Devon and her mom?”
He nodded. “Last picture of the two of them before Nan died. Now I’m glad she went when she did. Losing Devon would have been torture for her.”
They looked alike, the mother as pretty as Devon and dressed so similarly they might have been able to pass as sisters. Both wore Lily Pulitzer dresses and those add-a-bead necklaces that were so popular in the nineties.
“Thank you for your time.” She thought of one last question. “How did Devon and Bennett meet?”
“One of his book appearances. Devon was dabbling in writing herself. She was a big fan. They started talking and before you know it, they were seeing each other. He promised to help her with her book. She had everything she ever wanted.”