Chapter 14
14
A half hour later, Diane called me in to talk to Catherine’s parents.
I’d seen pictures, but experiencing them face-to-face was startling. They had that same celebrity aura as Catherine, wealth and fame surrounding them like a cloud of perfume. Killian—creepy director dad—was compact and rugged-looking, his thinning copper hair tousled, his tan face etched with lines. Lisette had reached the age where her upkeep work made her look uncanny: eyes too wide, lips too puffy. Her smooth face was shiny with tears that continued to fall as I told them and the two police officers everything I knew, which wasn’t much.
Officer Rivera, who had a baby face despite his beard, asked me where I’d been that morning. His questions threw me: Did they think I was somehow involved? Officer Kim, a fortysomething woman, watched silently as I confessed to having fallen asleep on the couch.
“Do you recognize these people?” Officer Kim turned Diane’s computer screen to show video footage of a man and woman walking in the front entryway and stopping at reception. He wore a baseball cap, she a wide-brimmed felt hat. Had they been trying to shield themselves from the cameras?
“I don’t think so.” The man was tall, slightly stooped, and had a noticeable paunch. The much smaller woman leaned on the front desk, using one booted foot to scratch the back of her left ankle. Her light hair flowed in soft waves over her back.
“One more.” Officer Kim nodded and Diane clicked on another clip. Rachel and Catherine sat at the conference room table, papers and crayons strewn around them. Despite the graininess of the black-and-white footage, I could see Catherine stiffen when the couple arrived. My shoulders tightened as the woman ran to give her a hug. The man swooped in to embrace her. Catherine had recovered and even looked like she was smiling as they broke apart. Diane appeared on- screen, her back to the camera. The woman remained by Catherine’s side, one arm possessively clutching her shoulders.
“I don’t recognize them. I mean, from what I can see.” I shook my head. “But it looks like she knew them. Right?”
“Thanks for your cooperation.” Officer Kim gave me a tight smile.
“But—”
“Thanks, Thea.” Diane nodded at the door.
My stomach growled; after the intensity and strangeness of the meeting, and of seeing Catherine’s famous parents, I was suddenly ravenous. As I grabbed my coat and wallet from my locker, Rachel’s words circled in my head. What had Catherine wanted to tell me?
Outside, the icy wind snatched at my hair, and I squinted into pale, lemony sunlight. It took me a second to register the dark-haired man sitting on a bench outside the building.
“Jonah?” I stopped short. For a brief moment, wild, tentative hope blossomed in my chest. Was he here to surprise me? I had told him where I worked.
But when he looked up from his phone, his smile was too casual, verging on patronizing. “Oh, hey. How’s it going, Thea?”
“What are you doing here?” If he wasn’t here for me, why was he looking at me like that? Like I was an elderly aunt he had to make nice with so she’d go away?
He stood and ran a hand through his curls. “I thought I might run into you.”
“Yeah. I work here.” This still wasn’t computing.
Jonah slipped his phone into his back pocket. “I can explain.”
“Okay…”
“I’m a private investigator. Catherine’s parents hired me.”
“What?” Staggered, I took a step back.
“They contacted me yesterday.” He crossed his arms. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but Catherine disappeared four years ago. Her parents hired me—they hired a couple of us, actually, in different cities she had connections in—but we weren’t able to track her. So when she resurfaced here, they wanted me to check on her before they arrived. Of course, I couldn’t get inside. So I looked up employees on LinkedIn.”
“But how did you…” My stomach abruptly heaved, and I placed a hand on my belly. Do not throw up. Do not. “You knew I’d be at that bar last night?”
“You posted about it on Instagram.”
“So you don’t live in that neighborhood.”
His gaze was steady. “No.”
I sputtered. “But that’s illegal, isn’t it? To pretend to be someone else? To pretend to be…” I didn’t finish the thought, because it was too pitiful: Interested in me?
“It’s not, actually.” There was that gleam of amusement in his eyes that I remembered, but now it looked hard, cruel. “People lie about themselves all the time.”
“But you came home with me. You were in my apartment. When I was drunk.”
“Well, maybe don’t invite strange men over when you’re wasted.”
The words shocked me enough that I was, for a moment, speechless. Then rage began swirling up through my chest. “Are you fucking serious? Did you actually just say that out loud to me?”
“Look.” He raised his hands, conciliatory. “I’m sorry. I’m honestly just trying to help her parents. They wanted her to be safe. Which… clearly, we failed in that.”
I shoved my shaking hands in my pockets.
“What happened to her?” Even in the midst of my shock and outrage, I wanted answers. “Why did she disappear?”
“We don’t know.” He stepped closer, his voice low and urgent. “If you have any information, it might help us find her.”
I laughed. “Oh! Now you’re expecting the drunken slut to help you? Is that what’s happening?”
“Thea, please. This is about Catherine, okay? Not you. And not me.”
“You don’t know shit about Catherine,” I spit out. The words surprised us both.
Mildly, he asked: “Did you recognize the people who picked her up?”
I turned and stormed past him.
“The-a.” He drew my name out, as if I were being unreasonable. I hurried on, holding my breath until I rounded the block and was out of sight.