Chapter 25 Jake
Jake stretched out on the wicker couch in the shade of his north-facing patio.
Grief and frustration were sapping him of all energy, draining him physically and emotionally in ways he’d never have dreamed possible.
He could barely muster himself to leave the house these days.
Lolling on the patio sofa, trying to read, was about as much as he could manage.
Even the chic outdoor furniture set — he knew it was chic, as Liv had told him so — reminded him of her.
It had been ferociously expensive, but she’d insisted on it.
“I can write it off against my business taxes.” That was her excuse for every overpriced home furnishing here — the industrial pendant lights above the quartz countertops, the wide-plank hardwood floors, the marble tile surround gas fireplace, and a hundred other beautiful, expensive things.
She had extensively photographed and blogged about their gut-job renovation on her professional website, using the design’s broad, beachy-meets-Southern appeal to pull in new clients.
“But I don’t want strangers poring over our bedroom, admiring the bed we have sex on,” he’d responded, sulkily.
She’d kissed him on the temple. “Suck it up, buttercup. If you want me to write off these expenses, this reno has to be part of my very public marketing campaign.”
Liv had been right, of course, about the patio furniture being worth the investment.
At least, she would have been, if she’d been around to enjoy it.
She’d painted him a picture of long summer evenings with their friends and family, Burt and Jake’s dad taking over the grilling on the state-of-the art gas barbecue in the corner, his mom and Tilly sharing wine on the couch, Annabelle and Ed on the wide armchairs, Jake and Liv playing with their future kids on a climbing set on the lawn.
She’d sold him on that life. But it was looking less and less likely that vision would become a reality.
Not that he’d changed his mind about the wedding. Knowing it would still take place if Liv showed up was the one thing giving him comfort. Worth every cent of the twenty thousand bucks he’d given back to Burt. Never mind his and Liv’s savings.
Jake frowned, ears straining. He was sure he’d heard something. There. A knock at the door. Detective Banks? He glanced at his watch. A half-hour early? Irritated, he jumped up, walking around the side of the house to intercept him.
But instead of a police car, there was a delivery van parked out front. An old guy stood on the porch, some kind of suit carrier draped on his arm. Only it was puffy, overly long, and white, bearing some kind of elaborate logo.
“Hey, man,” Jake called. “Can I help you?”
The delivery guy turned. “Delivery for a . . .” he checked his tablet, “Ms. Olivia Grainger. From Bridal Wave.”
Oh, Jesus.
“Uh, I’m her fiancé.” Jake climbed the steps onto the little porch. “I can sign for that. She’s not, uh, home.”
The guy handed over the tablet and a stylus pen, and Jake scrawled an approximation of his signature in the box.
“All set.” The guy handed Jake the bulky carrier. It was surprisingly heavy. “Have a good one.”
Jake maneuvered his way through the front door, kicking it closed behind him. He draped the carrier over the back of the couch and turned over the paper ticket attached to the top hook.
brIDAL WAVE
Ogden Market Place, Wilmington NC
Ms. Olivia Grainger
878 Bradley Road
Wilmington NC
Cell: 910-555-3554
One wedding dress in Caroline style/Pearl — Olivia
$5,795
One bridesmaid dress in Jane style/Aqua — Charlotte
$1,325
One bridesmaid dress in Jane style/Seafoam — Sara
$1,325
One bridesmaid dress in Jane style/Oceanic — Nicole
$1,325
PAID IN FULL
$9,770
Liv’s wedding dress, and three bridesmaid dresses.
Another ten thousand bucks.
Burt and Tilly must’ve paid that bill months ago, yet didn’t mention it at their recent dinner. Probably because the dresses were tailor-made and non-returnable anyways.
Jake ran his fingers over the white cover, tracing the words in their opulent cursive lettering. He toyed with the zip, but stopped himself. He wouldn’t look. He didn’t want to see the dress itself, not really. Only on Liv herself as she came down the aisle.
He brought the carrier into their bedroom and hung it on the front of the closet door. Should he call Charlotte, and Liv’s girlfriends, Sara and Nicole, to tell them their dresses had arrived?
No. They’d think he was as crazy as Tilly and Burt did. Although Charlotte already knew he wasn’t canceling the wedding, from her parents, and she’d probably have let the other bridesmaids know.
He’d had multiple emails from friends and relatives about it over the past couple of weeks.
Invited guests who’d previously booked travel and accommodations to be there for the wedding.
They were very sorry, but given it had been two months, should they cancel their flights and hotel?
Was it officially canceled? Maybe they had missed an email about it.
There had been no email about it. Not from Jake, anyways. He hadn’t even responded to the direct requests for an update. They could figure it out for themselves. He had bigger things to worry about than Aunt Margie’s non-refundable Airbnb.
Jake smoothed down the dress cover then stepped out into the great room. He filled the pale blue kettle in the kitchen, placed it on the stove, and dried off the coffee aeropress next to the farmhouse sink.
There were so many things he would never have picked out for himself.
It would have been a plastic electric kettle, a stainless-steel sink, and a generic pod coffee machine.
It was Liv who had such elevated tastes.
Which had been fine with two of them earning, and her business taking off.
But without her income, on the small salary he got at RAI, he wouldn’t be able to keep that lifestyle going.
He was barely able to afford their mortgage by himself.
If she didn’t come home, he’d have to face reality and sell all this fancy stuff, and their house, too.
Or, he could just quit the job he loved and go back to working in some soulless private practice for the big bucks.
It’s probably what he’d have done without Liv anyways.
She was the one who’d always pushed him to follow his dreams.
Another knock, this one Detective Banks. Jake opened the door and led him into the living area. This time there was no wide-eyed, note-taking sidekick.
“Take a seat. I’m just making coffee. Want one? Or a tea, or water?”
Detective Banks sat in the same armchair he always seemed to take. “No thanks, I’m good.”
He waited patiently while Jake finished the elaborate process of making his coffee with the aeropress.
“How are you doing?” Detective Banks asked as Jake settled onto the couch.
“Oh, about the same,” Jake replied with a humorless laugh. “Frustrated. Exhausted. Sad. The usual, you know. Where’s your trainee? I never see you without him.”
Detective Banks smiled. “Shadowing somebody else now. I’m getting a new partner soon, but I’m on my own for the next week. I didn’t need him today anyways. No need to take notes. This is just a check-in and a quick update.”
“I appreciate that.” Jake sipped his coffee. Damned if Liv wasn’t right about the aeropress. It was so much better.
“Obviously the investigation is still active, but there’s only so much we can do with zero evidence after two months.
Every possible lead has been followed.” Detective Banks frowned.
“As you know, we’ve had a whole team working on this ever since Liv disappeared, the physical searches of the site turned up nothing.
We’ve scoured all the traffic cam footage within a twenty-mile radius of the quarry for both before and after she went missing.
We’ve exhaustively interviewed everybody — you, Mr. Evans, and all Liv’s friends and family, plus all the homeowners in the quarry’s vicinity.
There’s very little more we can do at this point.
We’re not giving up on Liv, but,” he hesitated, “I’m going to be working on a new investigation with my new partner, as of next week. ”
Jake sat back with a deep exhale, trying to suppress a sense of rising panic. “So this is, what, a cold case? Already?”
Detective Banks gave him that sympathetic half-smile. “It’s too soon to call it that, but we’ve exhausted our leads and resources. I’ll still be the detective assigned to the case, and anyone can still call me with any new information that may turn up.”
Jake gazed past the police detective at the beach print on the wall behind him. “I’m guessing, then, the searches on Kirk’s house and car didn’t show anything, otherwise we’d be having a different conversation.”
“That would be a reasonable assumption,” the detective confirmed.
“And I’m not under suspicion?”
Detective Banks spread his hands. “Impossible to define. In cases such as these, where there is no evidence and no apparent motive, suspicion lies everywhere and nowhere. We have no evidence you did anything to harm your fiancée. And you seem credible. Personally, I believe you are telling the truth. The problem is, Liv’s disappearance is so inexplicable, so incredible, something must be off somewhere.
I don’t think it’s you, but I’ve been wrong before.
” He uncrossed his legs. “I think the article about Liv in the Atlantic last week did you some favors, though. I wouldn’t have recommended you giving that interview, but it seems to have paid off. ”
Jake nodded slowly. “Yeah. I was really torn about it, but my sister-in-law works in PR and crisis management, and she knew the reporter, said she’d be sympathetic.
I hadn’t told my side of the story to anybody, and I trust the Atlantic more than most, so .
. .” He shrugged. “With all the stuff people were saying about me, it seemed time to defend myself. At least to make it clear you guys hadn’t found anything when you searched my stuff.
I was nervous the reporter would turn it around and do a hatchet job, but thankfully she didn’t. ”
Detective Banks stood up, signaling his visit was over.
“It was a gamble, for sure. Maybe one you should’ve run past me, but I’m glad it worked out.
At least now the first Google results people see are an article that paints you as the grieving fiancé, instead of the key suspect.
Hopefully things will quiet down for you online now. ”
Jake rose, walking with the detective to the door.
“That would be nice. Not that it makes much difference to whether Liv comes back, which is the only thing that really matters. Honestly, I’m now more worried it could stop people being interested, that it will take her disappearance out of the public eye.
People will forget about us, which could mean if anyone spots Liv, she’s not so recognizable and they won’t think to report it. ”
Detective Banks paused by the door. “No case stays front and center in the public eye forever, no matter how sensational. You got a ton of national attention, and this was as public as it gets. But, I’ll be honest, it’s up to you and the family now to keep Liv alive in the public eye.
Look at other long-term missing persons cases.
The families have set up websites, Facebook pages, blog posts that have been circulated on social media, crowd-funding campaigns for private investigator fees, that kind of thing.
You’ll probably want to do that and get a bunch of subscribers and followers while the case is still of public interest. You should work with your sister-in-law — she sounds like she’d be a real asset with this. ”
Jake shook Detective Banks’ hand. “That’s a great idea. Thanks, detective, I’ll get on that. I’m sure Annabelle would help.”
Detective Banks put a warm hand on his arm. “Take care, Jake. I’ll keep in touch, and I’ll let you know the moment I hear anything.”
The police detective stepped down from the porch and Jake closed the door. He flopped down onto the couch and took a sip of his coffee.
A cold case. One of those unsolved missing persons cases that forever remained a mystery, and would get occasional media throwback coverage on significant anniversaries, but that was it.
Detective Banks was right. It would be up to them now.
Jake was exhausted just thinking about it.