Her Last Day (Jessie Cole #1)(29)



“I understand what you’re saying, but—”

“The truth is, I’m not sure how you could help. I’ve been to every place Sophie ever set foot in multiple times. I’ve talked to teachers, friends, the postman, and acquaintances—anyone who ever said two words to her. And yet I’m no closer today to finding out what happened to her than I was ten years ago. It’s as if she vanished into thin air.” Jessie leaned forward and tapped a finger on the coffee table. “Sophie was twenty when she disappeared. She hardly had any friends. I don’t even know who the father of her child is.”

As soon as the words were out, she berated herself for saying too much. She didn’t know this man.

“In your line of work, I’m sure you’ve handled a few cold cases over the years,” he said.

“Yes, I have,” she said, wondering what he was getting at.

“Then you know there’s nothing better than having a fresh pair of eyes to look things over. My helping would have nothing to do with critiquing an old investigation or making anyone who worked on the case look bad.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I get that.”

“The thing is,” he went on, “most people investigators talk to are more likely to open up about an old case rather than a new one. Witnesses and friends tend not to be so secretive about something that happened a decade ago. Many people don’t like to cooperate with authorities because of fear or disdain. But after the years pass by, things change. People grow up. Sometimes they grow a conscience. Minds muddled by drugs grow clearer.”

Jessie met his gaze and wondered if she could trust him. Everything he said made sense. She found herself warming up to him and changed her mind. Besides, she really could use some help. She thought about Parker Koontz and Arlo Gatley and the stacks of files on her desk at the office. She needed him a lot more than he needed her.

“This isn’t about dragging your family’s name through the mud,” he said. “I’m not interested in casting dark shadows of any kind on your family. My plan would be to start by retracing every detail of the last day your sister was seen.”

“You said on the phone that you might have known Sophie. Is that true?”

“I have amnesia—”

“Yes. I did a search on the Internet. Retrograde amnesia. You were in a car accident.”

He nodded. “The doctors had hoped I would regain memories by now, but that hasn’t happened. Not until I saw your sister on television. It felt as if a switch had been flipped inside my head. I know I’ve met her,” he continued, “but I have no idea when or where.”

“Maybe your sudden interest in Sophie has more to do about discovering your past than mine.”

He seemed to ponder that. “Perhaps.”

“If this is about finding Sophie, then why bother doing a story about my family?”

“I needed to sell the idea to my boss so I could continue to collect a paycheck, and your story makes good copy.”

She raised a questioning eyebrow.

“You and your sister were born and raised right here in the neighborhood,” he explained. “Your mother leaves. Your father starts drinking. One sister goes missing and the other never stops looking.”

“I appreciate your brutal honesty, but I’ll need to talk to Olivia about this before I make my final decision.”

“Talk to Olivia about what?”

Jessie looked across the room and saw Olivia standing at the top of the stairs. Jessie sighed. “This is Ben Morrison with the Sacramento Tribune. He’s interested in helping us find out what happened to Sophie.”

Olivia looked from Ben to Jessie. “You said yes, right?”

“Don’t you think that might be a problem at school?” Jessie asked her. “Your friends will be reading about Sophie’s life, which means they’ll be asking questions about you, too.”

“I don’t care about that,” Olivia said with a shrug. “My closest friends know everything anyhow.”

Ben pushed himself to his feet. “I should go and let the two of you talk in private.”

Jessie stood, too.

Ben looked at Olivia. “It was nice meeting you, Olivia.”

“You, too,” she said.

Jessie walked him out and then joined Olivia in the kitchen, where she hovered over the dog.

“I don’t know why you would even think about turning down his offer,” Olivia said. “Don’t you want to find out what happened to Sophie?”

Olivia had stopped referring to Sophie as her mom years ago, and Jessie had never pressed her about it. But there were times like now when she wondered what was going through that head of hers. “Of course I do,” Jessie said. “But you’re older now, and I worry about people talking, saying unkind things. How would that make you feel, hearing things that may or may not be true about someone you love?”

“I guess I wouldn’t like it if people were talking crap about her, but I’m tough. I can handle it.” Olivia pushed herself to her feet and looked Jessie in the eyes. “I want to know—no, I need to know why Sophie left and whether or not she’s ever coming back.”





SEVENTEEN

Erin could hardly move. Her breathing quickened.

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