She wondered if the woman’s husband knew that she’d posed naked for Ray, not that it mattered now.
It made her want to cry. She so badly wanted to love Ray and have him love her in return. People wanted a reason to love him, and then if they failed to find one, they made one up and loved him, anyway. He had that strange effect on people. He was generous to friends and strangers alike, almost to a fault, unless you pissed him off. Then he was your worst enemy. People always claimed that Ray would give you the shirt off his back. And she knew he would. But it seemed the only people who didn’t benefit from that shirt were his own family.
KARL
WITHOUT QUESTION, THE BRIGGSES OWNED THE NICEST HOME ON all of Harper’s Point. He could hear the rhythmic sound of waves off in the distance and rolling onto the beach. He’d waited less than thirty seconds before a man’s voice answered over the speaker. He gave his name and, as instructed, held his police badge up to the security camera for the occupant to see. After a few seconds the man buzzed him in.
His eyes widened at the sight of the place. An all-white interior with massive floor-to-ceiling windows offered him a 180-degree view of the ocean. The floor consisted of huge gray tiles neatly laid out in a grid. The kitchen was an open-concept design with a massive island, speckled marble countertops throughout, and a gigantic stainless-steel sink. But the defining feature of the entire space had to be the antigravity-looking stairway leading up to the second floor. It was an architectural gem, and he couldn’t stop staring at it.
He stood alone in the house, not knowing where to go or what to do next. The sleek white sofas in the living room looked as if they’d never been sat on. A series of tan spheres hung down from the ceiling, and he assumed they were lights. He stared up in awe as he waited for someone to appear and address him. For some reason, he had an overwhelming desire to shout something out in this cavernous structure and hear the echo of his voice.
A few minutes passed before he heard the tap of footsteps. He looked up and saw a man with gray hair and silver-studded, black-framed glasses walking down those futuristic stairs, stairs that seemed to grow magically out of the wall. He held out his hand as the man approached.
“Gil Briggs.”
“Detective Bjornson.” He clasped the man’s hand. “I just want to let you know that we’re doing everything in our power to find your daughter.”
“Thank you. My wife and I are worried sick about her. Willow means the world to me.”
Me? “Where’s your wife?”
“She’s up in her room. Willow’s disappearance has taken a lot out of her. I tried to tell her that Willow will be located and returned to us safe and sound, but she’s not optimistic.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s in her nature, I suppose. Living all those years out in Los Angeles tends to kill a bit of your soul.”
“Can you tell me about your daughter?”
“Willow’s an extremely talented girl, as you probably already know. She pitched a no-hitter in the championship game the other day, but she’s also an amazing singer and dancer. If I can manage to sell this reality pilot I’m filming, her opportunities will be endless. But, like most kids her age, she does have a rebellious side.”
“Oh?”
“She’s strong willed and stubborn. I know she smokes a little pot every once in a while, but that doesn’t worry me too much.”
“She told you this?”
“No, but her mother saw her smoking weed on one of those social media sites. Willow didn’t know we had her password. We never confronted her about it, because we want to respect her privacy as much as possible. We figured it’s only marijuana, and we all smoked a little weed back in high school, so it’s not really that big of a deal.”
“What about her friend Katie?”
“Seems like a nice girl. Not the usual type of kid Willow makes friends with, but for whatever reason, those two hit it off last year, when Willow transferred to Shepherd’s Bay High.”
“Why did she transfer?”
“She was getting into some trouble at her previous school. Nothing major, mind you, but enough to warrant our attention. Finally, she came to us, begging for a more authentic educational experience. She was tired of dealing with all these rich kids, especially after we moved here from LA. So we did what was best for her.”
Karl couldn’t help checking out his surroundings some more, and he felt guilty about enjoying this house when two girls had gone missing. He wondered what it would be like to live in such a home. Hell, he couldn’t even afford the taxes on a house like this, never mind paying for the heat and utilities.
“She’s our only child, Detective,” Briggs said. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “You need to find her as soon as possible. I’m begging you.”
“We’re doing our best, Mr. Briggs.”
“My wife and I are worried sick over this. Felicia’s heavily medicated and barely able to function.”
“Please give her my regards.”
“Yes, of course.” Briggs paused for a moment. “Willow has such a promising future ahead of her. Please bring her home before anything bad happens.”
“Is this promising future your plan or hers?”
“Oh, definitely hers. No question about it. I started her in acting classes when she was a young girl, but since then, all of Willow’s interest in performing has come from her. She fell in love with the stage and hasn’t looked back.”
“Nice to have goals in life.”
“You have to have a lot of drive to succeed in this cutthroat business,” he said, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “Besides, she comes from good genes.”
“Oh?”
“Martin Scorsese’s my second cousin.”
“Loved Taxi Driver.”
“I’m a Goodfellas guy myself, but Taxi Driver’s a classic.”
“Briggs doesn’t sound Italian.”
“My great-grandfather’s name was Briggliotta when he first arrived at Ellis Island. I’m sure you can figure out the rest.”
“Shortened for convenience.”
“You got it,” Briggs said, pointing at Karl’s name tag. “Bjornson. Is that Swedish?”
“It is, even though it has only one s, like the Norwegian version of the name. Somehow my family lost the extra s.”
“I love Ingmar Bergman.”
“Never heard of him.”
“He’s a Swedish film director. The Seventh Seal is one of my favorite films of all time.”
“Don’t think I’ve seen any of his movies.”
“Then you really should, because he’s a genius,” he said. “Were you born in Sweden?”
“No, my ancestors emigrated from there in eighteen seventy and settled in New Sweden, Maine.”
A woman’s voice called for Briggs.
“Excuse me, but I have to take care of my wife now. Please do whatever you can to find my daughter.”
Karl shook his hand and thanked him for his time. That was a strange way to end the conversation. Karl made his way to the door. Before closing it, he took one last look at the inside of the house and saw Gil Briggs sprinting back up those crazy stairs, seemingly suspended in midair.