Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Josie’s temple bumped against the passenger’s side window of Noah’s SUV, jarring her awake.
Rubbing the side of her head, she yawned.
Outside, everything was draped in shadows that not even the occasional streetlight could chase away.
The clock on the dashboard said two a.m. They’d be in Turner’s old jurisdiction within the next hour.
Josie had already contacted the Alden Police Department to let them know she and Noah would be questioning one of their residents.
After that, she’d called Dani Schwarber’s aunt, Turner’s former colleague, Detective Annette Miller.
She’d instructed them to meet her at a twenty-four-hour diner before they questioned Dustin Emmer.
“You’re supposed to be sleeping,” Noah said.
“I slept.”
He chuckled. “Forty-five minutes doesn’t count.”
“It’s something. I promise to go home when this shift is over.”
Josie’s parents had come over to stay with Wren so Noah could pick up an extra shift now that they were down a team member.
Misty and Harris would relieve them in the morning.
Josie grappled with a low-level guilt. They hadn’t even had guardianship of Wren for a year, and they were already handing her off to relatives and friends due to work.
Though Noah would point out that they hadn’t had to do that very often and that it was normal to rely on loved ones for help.
“What is it?” he asked, doing that husband thing that gave him a sixth sense whenever she was remotely anxious about something.
“Not important,” she said.
She sensed him shooting glances at her, but he decided not to push.
The hum of the local radio station had been nothing but white noise since they left Denton.
They’d turned it down so they could listen to chatter on the police radio.
Their colleagues were working tirelessly to follow any leads that arose.
The staffing level was almost double what it normally was, with plenty of officers pitching in to try to find Turner’s family while also handling the normal issues that arose in the city.
Noah reached over and turned up the car radio.
In a smooth, emotionless voice, a woman launched into a news report about the disappearance of Dani Schwarber and Cassidy Turner, directing listeners to their social media platforms to view all relevant photos.
Several still photos of the suspect from the video footage had been released to the press.
Josie had also pulled some candid shots of Dani and Cassidy from Turner’s phone.
Calls from the public offering tips would start soon, she hoped.
The geofence warrant they’d managed to get three days after the fact wasn’t helpful.
Then again, more criminals were getting wise to the fact that their electronic devices gave them away.
In addition, Google had recently changed the way they treated their users’ location history to ensure more privacy, which made it more difficult for law enforcement to find their device in a geofence perimeter.
Josie picked Turner’s phone up from the center console and went back to perusing its contents, which she’d been doing on and off since they began their drive to Alden.
It was strange, having this window into his personal life.
She felt like some kind of emotional voyeur.
The texts between him and Dani started out fine and later devolved into an argument.
It was as reliable as ocean tides. She reread some of the exchanges from the past three weeks between Turner and Dani.
In the days leading up to their date, they’d been flirty.
Turner began with: Are we still on for Friday? Sandman’s?
Dani: Yes! Can’t wait. Our first date in how long????
Turner: At least a year. Meeting you for lunch so you can ream me out for my latest offense doesn’t count.
Dani: Is this really how you want to pre-game?
Turner: You’re right. Sorry. I really am excited.
Dani: Wear the blue shirt.
Turner: I’ve got lots of blue shirts.
Dani: The one I bought you for Christmas the year Cass’s Elf on a Shelf was tragically killed in a scooter accident.
Turner: That elf had it coming.
Dani: Are you suggesting it was foul play?
Turner: That case is closed. What if I can’t find the shirt? That was a long time ago.
Dani: Are you or are you not at this very moment wearing the shoes you had on when you graduated from the academy?
Turner: Not answering that without a lawyer present.
Dani: You’re lucky I like keeping old things around.
Turner: I prefer vintage.
Dani: Well, I can’t wait to spend the night with my vintage husband.
Turner: I miss us.
Dani: I know.
If you’d asked her a week ago whether Turner could ever be vulnerable or sincere, she would have said no.
He had one dimension and that was douchebag.
This peek into his personal life—his family life—was surreal.
Josie had pored over thousands of phone records in her career, including very private exchanges between victims and loved ones, but she’d never felt more like an intruder than she did now.
There were a few other messages between Turner and Dani in the days before their dinner discussing logistics and then, just as Turner described, after the date everything went downhill. Fast.
Turner was angry: That’s seriously it? You’re going to slam the door in my face and ignore me? If you want to co-parent, we need to talk.
Dani: We already talked. I told you that you’re an inconsiderate asshole.
Turner: Three hours ago you were practically sitting on my lap in the damn restaurant. We had a great night. The best we’ve had in a long, long time and now this.
Dani: Really? You’re going to put this on me? I’m not the one who blew up this family.
Turner: Not going over this with you again. It’s ancient history. You promised to put it behind us.
Dani: Maybe I can’t.
Turner: I’m coming over. If you’re going there again, I want you to look me in the eye.
Dani: Stop being so dramatic. You always knew there was a chance this wouldn’t work out.
Turner: You came to Denton. That has to mean something.
Thirteen minutes elapsed. Dani didn’t respond. Finally, Turner wrote again: Unless you tell me not to in the next five minutes, I’m coming over.
Josie wondered what Turner had done to blow up their family.
The most obvious misdeed seemed infidelity.
Had he lied to her earlier when he said he didn’t have an affair with Zara?
The truth was that once he started talking about all the things he’d done for the former escort, Josie had concluded that he had had an affair.
Why else would he have done it? Out of the goodness of his heart? Was she expected to believe that?
She could definitely imagine him cheating, especially with the way he flirted shamelessly with witnesses. Had he really complained about how often he and Dani fought and how little she thought of him when it was his fault the marriage was on the rocks? It was classic Turner.
Seriously, what did his wife see in him?
Josie’s job wasn’t to judge. Certainly not from what amounted to a snapshot of a relationship that spanned almost two decades.
Not all marriages were the same. Some could survive incredible strain, betrayal, and heartbreak.
Others could not. Relationships weren’t a one-size-fits-all kind of thing. They were complicated and nuanced.
Including Turner’s relationship with his daughter. The two of them appeared to have some sort of ongoing game where they sent one another words and the other person had to use it in a sentence without looking it up.
The day before he’d canceled the festival plans with Cassidy, she’d texted him:
intractable. Don’t google! I’ll know if you do.
Turner: I’m intractable.
Cassidy: Cute.
Turner: Catawampus.
Cassidy: That’s not a word.
Turner: No. Rizz is not a word.
Cassidy: yeah it is. Check the oxford dictionary.
Turner: I did. That’s where I got catawampus.
Cassidy: If you keep pissing mom off, I’m going to catawamp your ass.
Turner: Funny but no points.
Cassidy: Fine but for real, can you make her happy again?
Turner: That question requires a much longer conversation.
Then came the day that Turner canceled on Cassidy because he stayed late to work the Barnes case with Josie. He’d texted her: I’m so sorry, kiddo. I can’t do the festival today. Caught a real bad case at work. See if mom can take you. I’ll make it up to you.
Cassidy: You already booked the balloon flight though.
Turner: I know, kiddo. I’m sorrier than you can possibly imagine. Take mom or a friend. I’ll text you the tickets. Don’t miss it on account of me.
Cassidy’s response was a single word: Fine.
Moments later, Dani began messaging Turner.
Dani: You really are an asshole. You know she was looking forward to this for weeks.
Turner: I know and I apologized to her. I’ll make it up to her, I promise.
Dani: Your promises mean nothing to us. How could you? She’s crying, Kyle. Crying in her room. She doesn’t even want to go now.
Turner: She should go with you. Those tickets were five hundred bucks. Don’t waste them.
Dani: I don’t give a shit how much the tickets cost. Your daughter is devastated.
Turner: My daughter has wanted to go up in a hot air balloon since she was four years old. Take her. She shouldn’t miss out because I’m an asshole.
Dani: If you know you’re an asshole, stop acting like one. Leave work and come take your daughter for the day like you promised.
Turner: I don’t like this anymore than you do but I can’t just leave work. Unfortunately. I’m sorry. This was the last thing I wanted. I was looking forward to spending time with her, too. We got a really bad case today. We’re already short-handed because of the festival. It was unavoidable.
Dani: So now it’s work that’s more important than us. It’s always something. You can lie to our faces and say we come first but it’s just not true. I’m sick of this. Sick of you being an inconsiderate, unreliable jackass. Sick of consoling our daughter every time you screw up.
Turner: Of course that’s how you see me. As a screw up. Guess that’s never going to change.
Dani: You’re never going to change. That’s clear now. We’re done.
Turner: What does that even mean?
But that was the last time Dani responded to any of his messages. He sent several to Cassidy asking her to talk to him. It wasn’t until the next day that Cassidy contacted him.
Cassidy: I can’t really talk right now.
Turner: Did you guys do the balloon ride?
Cassidy: No.
Turner: Kiddo, I really wanted you to have that experience, even without me.
Cassidy: Mom wasn’t really in the mood to have fun.
Turner: Tell me you’re kidding. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to her and I will make this up to you, I swear.
Cassidy: Just don’t come over. Mom is raging. She’s talking about moving back to Alden. Maybe give her time to cool off.
Turner: I can do that. Cass, I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ll do whatever it takes to make this up to you.
Cassidy: Can you make her stay in Denton?
Turner: I’ll try. Let me know when she’s calmed down. I love you, kiddo.
Cassidy: Love you, too.
There were no more word games. There was nothing after that but dozens and dozens of messages from Turner to his family. First, to Dani.
I know you’re still majorly pissed at me and that’s fine but just tell me, did you go on the balloon ride? How was it?
He clearly already knew they hadn’t gone.
Josie would have expected him to jump right to accusing his wife of ruining the experience for Cassidy but instead, he asked her if they’d gone as if he didn’t already know.
The approach served several purposes. It gave Dani the benefit of the doubt.
Maybe she had been willing to take Cassidy on the balloon ride, but Cassidy hadn’t wanted to go while her mom was in a bad mood because of Turner.
It didn’t start the conversation off with an accusation.
It also didn’t throw Cassidy under the bus.
He kept what they discussed private so that Cassidy could trust that whatever she told him would stay between them.
Josie had to admit, she respected Turner for it. It was mature and that wasn’t a descriptor she would ever have associated with him.
Dani didn’t respond. Turner’s messages continued, unanswered.
I know you’re angry with me. I get it. I’ll take my lumps but let’s talk about this.
Please, Dani. Things were starting to get better before this. I don’t understand how we got here. Just talk to me.
I love you both. I understand you’re pissed. If you don’t want to keep trying, fine. I will make this up to Cassidy. Tell her it’s okay to call me.
Please answer my calls.
I’ll give you your space but at some point, we should talk.
Is this really the thing that’s going to torpedo our marriage? After all these years of trying to hold it together? According to you, I’ve done much worse in the past. What the hell is going on?
If you don’t want to try anymore, I accept that but let’s at least be civil. Cassidy needs that from us.
Please don’t shut me out. How many times have we done this already? Can we just get to the part where you talk to me again?
They went on and on. A dozen or more each day.
There were texts to Cassidy as well.
Kiddo, I know you’re mad and disappointed with me. I don’t blame you. I’m sorry. Can you come over so we can talk?
Cass, please pick up. I just want to hear your voice.
Please take my calls. You don’t have to tell mom we talked.
I know your mom is really pissed at me right now, but I’d really like to see you.
At least come by and see Spot. The old asshole is lonely as hell. I can make myself scarce if you don’t want to see me.
I’m giving you guys some space. I don’t want to make things worse but let’s try to work this out.
Those continued for days as well. Every so often, they were punctuated by his attempts to keep their word game going.
Velleity
Acumen
Confabulate
Kiddo? You still with me?
Those messages, so hopeful, so vulnerable, were like knives to Josie’s heart. Whatever Turner was, whatever he had done, it was obvious he loved his daughter. He had tried to connect with her.
The last text he sent her before Josie showed up at his apartment door was simply a photo of two owl figurines about the size of his palm with the message: will you at least talk to these guys?
Josie was so focused on trying to untangle the dynamics between Turner and his wife and daughter that she jumped when the sound of a phone ringing filled the car. Chief Chitwood’s name flashed across the console.
“Great,” Noah muttered. “Just what we need.”