53. Garrett #2
According to Lucas, the news media has already released information on the alleged kidnapping of my daughter. They’ve also mentioned Zara’s disappearance, because it’s linked to Peony’s case. Emily’s name hasn’t been released yet, but details of her death have been.
If people in the airport have heard the news and recognize me, I wouldn’t know. Until Roger’s call, I’d been staring at my blank laptop screen, blocking out the world around me. I don’t even have the strength to watch the news reports, to see what kind of narrative the stations are spinning.
I’m on a thin edge, barely keeping my crap together.
Barely keeping my fears and my grief off my face.
“No, it’s fine,” I tell Roger, my voice still rough. “Did you get an answer?”
He gives me the information I need for the book.
An answer that has nothing to do with the storyline involving the kidnapping of a child, because right now, that’s one of the last things I can handle.
It’s also an answer that won’t require me rethinking part of the story, sending it in another trajectory.
A trajectory I don’t have time for…or the energy to think about.
A young woman with strawberry-blond hair like Athena’s walks past. She doesn’t look like Athena, but that doesn’t keep my next thought from shaping itself into words.
“I have a question that has nothing to do with the book. At least not this one. And it has nothing to do with my daughter’s disappearance. ”
“Sure. Fire away.”
I tell him about how Athena hasn’t received her replacement ID yet. “She requested it over three months ago.”
“It might have gotten lost in the mail.”
“I’ve thought of that too. But both the ID and her Social Security Number? I was wondering if there might be another reason for the delays. Like the government offices are backlogged, and the ID and number are coming soon. I’d rather wire her the salary than keep paying her in cash.”
The reality of what I’m saying hits with the force of a torpedo. I have a nanny, but the child she’s supposed to care for is missing. A nanny who will also be frantic about Peony’s disappearance.
My stomach cramps just thinking about how my little girl is gone and the police don’t know where she is. She must be terrified, and I’m not with her to protect her, to comfort her, to make her feel safe. I want to tear down the fucking world and find her.
“Understandable.…If she doesn’t have a bank account, where’s she keeping the money?” Roger asks.
“I haven’t asked, ’cause it’s none of my business where she’s hiding the money. For all I know, it’s in her sock drawer.”
“Any chance she’s spending it as soon as she gets it?” The question is straightforward, but I can tell his thought process is spinning through numerous possibilities. Possibilities I would be considering if this were a book I were plotting.
“If she is, she’s not buying anything I’ve seen.
She’s bought clothes for herself and toys for Peony, but nothing that costs anything close to what I’m paying her.
” I’ve mentioned a few times to Athena that she could be earning interest on the money, but she just brushes my suggestion off, claiming the interest she’s missing out on isn’t much while she waits for the government to replace her ID.
“Is it possible she has a gambling addiction? She could be using the money to buy a credit gift card and using that to gamble online.”
I close my laptop and wearily unfold to my feet. “Anything’s possible.” I begin pacing in the small corner area I’ve secluded myself in, away from most people. “But she doesn’t demonstrate the usual signs of a gambling addict.”
Signs I know about from research I’d done on the topic for one of my earlier novels.
“What’s her full name, date of birth, and a general description? I’ll see if I can find out what’s holding up the replacement ID.”
“Athena Williams.” I give him the rest of the information he needs, other than her date of birth. I can only give him a rough estimate on her age. It’s not like the topic of her age and date of birth have come up in conversation.
Roger promises to call me back as soon as he can.
I turn to the window and watch planes cross the tarmac. Why was the shooter at my house? What were they after? Why shoot Emily?
I stop my thoughts from spiraling down the route of Untold Mercy . That kidnapping was politically motivated. It has nothing to do with Zara and Peony.
My mind keeps steering to the same place. Annie Wilkes 3.0.
Just how far would a crazed fan go? The thought is enough to make me want to quit writing, if it means keeping the people I love safe.
Roger calls several minutes later. “Are you sure that’s her name?”
His question short wires my heart, and it stutters a beat. “That’s the name she told me. Athena is also the name my ex-girlfriend wrote in the letter Athena gave me, in the event something should happen.” At the time, I had no reason to believe Athena Williams wasn’t her real name.
“Are you certain she wrote the letter?”
“Pretty certain. I’m no handwriting expert, but it looked like Kenda’s writing. But she only wrote the name Athena. Maybe that name is correct, and I got the last name wrong. But I’m ninety percent positive that’s the name Athena gave me.”
Roger seems to mull things over for a second. “Is she American born?”
“She hasn’t given me a reason to believe she isn’t, but she hasn’t exactly been forthcoming about her life prior to Maple Ridge.
” My chest tightens. Every single muscle in my body tightens.
Fuck . If Athena isn’t who she says she is…
“Are you telling me the woman caring for my daughter possibly isn’t who she claims to be? ”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
I rub the back of my neck, scrambling for any scenario that could explain why Athena lied to me. The same woman Kenda asked me to keep on as Peony’s nanny.
The adrenaline-infused pounding in my chest is making it difficult to concentrate.
My heart was already beating fast, but knowing Athena has been lying all this time…
that she was looking after my daughter…has my heart rate picking up speed.
If it beats any faster, it might jackhammer its way through my ribs.
My hand moves to my chest, and I rub the spot above my heart.
Just how well did Kenda know the woman she trusted our daughter with? The Kenda I knew in college would have requested a security check before trusting her child to a stranger. Or maybe she did request one and Athena passed it. But why not tell me Athena’s real name if she knew it?
“Could she be in witness protection?” I ask.
“There’s a slim possibility she is.”
“Slim?”
“I don’t have the necessary clearance to find out if she’s in witness protection, but the delay in replacing her lost ID and Social Security Number is a red flag. That wouldn’t be the case if she was in witness protection. Do you have a photo of her? I can see what I can find based on that.”
“No. I don’t have any.” I didn’t think I’d need to take photos of her. All the photos I’ve taken of Peony are of her on her own, with Zara, or with my family. There are bits of Athena in some photos, but nothing usable to identify her with.
And now that I think about it, Athena was careful to avoid being in any photos.
I think back to when she thought I might be posting pictures of Peony on my author social media accounts and she freaked out. It’s possible she was just being cautious for Peony’s sake—or maybe there was another reason she didn’t want my daughter’s face on social media.
Crap . I should have let Kellan dig deeper into her past. Perhaps she has nothing to do with what’s happening, but that doesn’t explain why she’s been lying to me all this time.
“You need to contact the local authorities and let them know your nanny isn’t who she’s claiming to be,” Roger tells me.
“I’m sure they’ve already questioned her on your daughter’s disappearance, and they might be looking into her claims about her lost ID, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep them informed with what you know. ”
“Thanks. I’ll do that.”
“Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”
I do as Roger suggested. I phone Noah and fill him in on the conversation.
“We’ve questioned her,” Noah tells me as my flight’s boarding announcement is made. “Her name is Krista Danes. She has an alibi and is clearly distraught that Peony is missing. We fingerprinted her, but she has no criminal record or red flags indicating she’s linked to what happened.”
“So why the name change?”
“She claimed she wanted nothing to do with her old name. Her father was abusive and she wanted to cut all links to him.”
“And that included her name.” My muttered words are for my ears alone. It makes sense now—the reason Kenda hired Athena. Kenda was the type of person who would hire and protect someone who needed saving from an abusive father.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. We’re still no closer to figuring out what’s going on.
The Maple Ridge police are no closer to finding my daughter and the woman I love.
I rub the spot over my heart again. The ache in my chest isn’t a heart attack. It’s something more serious. More painful. It’s the gnawing fear, the sharp edge of grief, that if they aren’t found soon, it will be too late.
And my reasons for breathing will be gone.