“H—hurt her?” Lockhart’s face twisted. His mouth opened and a wheezing sound emerged, like a deflating balloon.
The lawyer, Wintour, spoke for the first time since the interview began. “You mean like someone with a grudge? She’s a little girl.” He laid a hand on Lockhart’s arm. Wintour might have made the gesture to comfort him, but to Reed, it looked like a caution: Don’t say anything. Let me handle it.
“You might be surprised at the complexity of a middle schooler’s life these days,” Conroy replied. “What about it, Mr. Lockhart? Anyone who might have wanted to help Chloe disappear, even if only for a few hours?”
“Disappear?” His chin quivered. His voice was hoarse when he answered. “No. There’s no one. Are we done yet? Shouldn’t you be out looking for Chloe rather than asking me all these questions?”
“He’s lying,” Ellery remarked to Reed. “Or at least there’s something he’s not telling us. His kid is missing—why hold back information now?”
Wealthy families, he knew, weren’t used to answering questions they didn’t care to answer. Reed had lived for decades with an explosive secret right within his DNA. However, he’d seen enough of his father’s infidelity over the years to have a guess as to what Martin Lockhart might be hiding.
“Detective Hathaway?” A uniformed officer poked her head around the corner. “The mother just arrived. What do you want me to do with her?”
“I’ll handle it. Thanks.”
Curious about Chloe’s other parent, Reed trailed Ellery out to the bullpen to get a glimpse of Teresa Lockhart, who stood trembling amid the chaos. She was tall, with close-cropped blond hair worn in a trendy, almost spiky ’do that Reed was surprised to see on a married, fifty-something surgeon. Her blue eyes were darker than her daughter’s striking aquamarine hue, and they were wet with tears. Ellery introduced herself and the woman collapsed into the nearest chair.
“You haven’t found her? I prayed the whole way here it wasn’t true.”
“We’re looking everywhere. I promise you.”
Teresa Lockhart didn’t seem to hear her. She accepted the box of tissues that Ellery passed to her and took a fistful as the tears welled up inside her once more. “Not again,” she said. “This can’t be happening again.”
3
Happening again. The words vibrated like a live wire inside Ellery, the one Coben had installed as surely as if he’d cut her open and strung it taut through her ribs. Her skin rippled under her clothes and a buzzing started in her ears. Focus, she ordered herself. Find Chloe. Aloud, she asked, “Do you mean that Chloe has disappeared before?”
“Not Chloe. Trevor. He didn’t disappear.” Teresa Lockhart broke off with a sob and covered her mouth with one hand. “He—he was murdered.”
“I’m so sorry.” Ellery searched her memory banks for any trace of the name Trevor but came up empty. “Who was Trevor?”
“My son.”
“Your son?” she echoed, confused. They had verified with the nanny that the Lockhart family consisted of three members: Martin, Teresa, and Chloe. Ellery cut her gaze to Reed, but he looked as startled by this development as she was. She also noted the gawking eyes of the officers around them. “Mrs. Lockhart, would you mind coming with me to a quieter space where we can discuss this further?”
Teresa shredded the tissues in her hands with nervous fingers. “I don’t understand. Shouldn’t you be out looking for Chloe?”
“We have a hundred people on the street right now doing just that. You can help us most by giving us a detailed account of your day and how you interacted with Chloe. Come this way, please.” She shepherded Teresa toward a windowless interview room with a cheap table and several folding chairs. Trailing behind them, Reed made a gesture at himself—Should I join?—and Ellery hesitated just a moment before nodding. This case was rising like quicksand around her and she wanted someone on the outside with a rope. “Can we get you anything? Coffee, water, soda?” Ellery asked as they entered the room.
“No, thank you.” Teresa paced the narrow confines while Ellery and Reed took their seats. She twisted her hands together and muttered something to herself that Ellery couldn’t decipher. The nervous energy radiating off the woman was contagious and Ellery had to take a steadying breath to keep herself calm.
“Won’t you please sit down a moment so we can talk?”
Teresa stopped in her tracks and looked hard at Ellery. “Hathaway. That’s your name, right? I read about you. You’re that girl, the one who—”
“Yes.” She could choose any fill-in and it would be correct. The girl who got away. The one who lived. Who shot a murderer and refused to apologize for it. The girl, now a woman, who had one last chance to keep this new job and carve out a slice of life that belonged to her and no one else.
They stared at each other some more as Teresa seemed to weigh whether or not to trust her. At last, Teresa pulled out a chair and perched on the edge like a bird. “And you’re him, then.” She glanced at Reed. “The one who found her.”
“Reed Markham, ma’am. Yes, I’m a special agent with the FBI.”
“The FBI is involved already?” With the strain in her voice, Ellery couldn’t tell if Teresa found this prospect reassuring or alarming.
“Not officially. I was at the fair today when Chloe went missing.”
“When did you last see Chloe?” Ellery asked her.
Teresa’s restless hands skimmed the plastic edge of the table. “I’ve been trying to think. It was Thursday … no, Wednesday night. I stopped in her room when we got in from dinner. She was listening to music and texting on her phone.”
Three days ago. Ellery made a note of it. “I see. Have you been traveling?”
“No.” There was an edge to Teresa’s reply. “I have a demanding but somewhat unpredictable surgical schedule as well as other work obligations. This week we had a benefit dinner for the Children’s Cancer Fund. Chloe is busy with school, dance, and music lessons. We don’t always see each other face-to-face, but we keep in touch all the time. See?” She reached down into her Coach handbag and pulled out a sleek silver phone. She called up her most recent text to Chloe: Have a great time, but don’t eat too much junk! Win a bear for me & your dad. Love you! Ellery saw the text had been marked as read by Chloe at 10:08 A.M., but there was no reply. “Do you mind if I have a look?” Ellery asked, extending her hand for the phone.
Teresa pulled back. “There’s nothing here to say where she went. Just mother-daughter chitchat.”
“You never know what might spark an idea.”
Teresa looked at the phone, bit her lip, and thrust it at Ellery. “Do you have kids?”
“No.” Coben had ruined that chance, according to the doctors. They’d repaired the damage and cured the infections, but the scar tissue remained.
“I do. One daughter.” Reed smiled and inclined his head. “She’s seven going on seventeen, I think.” Teresa flashed a brief, relieved smile, so Ellery let him take the lead in questioning as she paged through the texts between Teresa and Chloe.