The Night Before(13)

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

“You hanging in there?”

Rosie shook her head. No.

“We’ll find her.”

She managed a nod, but Gabe didn’t let it go.

“Hey … listen to me now.”

Rosie turned to face him.

“There are a hundred scenarios between Laura nursing a hangover in this guy’s bed and whatever it is you’re thinking. Most of them fall within the Laura Being Laura category. She’s been wound up pretty tight since she got back.”

Rosie nodded.

“No police?” he asked.

“No—you know I can’t do that unless this is real. Jesus. Laura Lochner back ten years later—reported missing—with a man she didn’t even know.…”

Gabe sat back and held out his hands. “Okay—I got it. No police until we know for sure.”

“You think it’s a mistake? Not calling them?”

“That’s not my decision.”

No, Rosie thought. This fell on her shoulders. She’d thought about calling the police since the moment she’d found that empty bed. But what if she was wrong? What if they were wrong? What if this was just Laura Being Laura? They all knew what would happen. The past would come screaming out of the shadows. It would be big news in this small town.

The computer screen went back to the photograph in the woods, down by the creek. It caught Gabe’s eye.

“Oh my God. Look at us.…”

He smiled then, and in a way that brought back memories. They had each played a role in their shared childhood story. Joe, their strong, handsome leader. Rosie, the pretty girl looking on as Laura, the reckless tomboy, found some kind of trouble. And then there was Gabe—the brains of the operation.

That was what she needed now. Someone whose mind could focus through the storm. Someone to think and figure this out. Gabe worked in IT. Sometimes he worked for clients who needed access to things that others didn’t want them to find.

“What can we do?” Rosie asked him, pulling him back from his own memories.

He slid the laptop closer and woke up the screen.

“These dating sites, the ones with the complicated profiles and rules, they’re actually easier to manipulate. To create a false identity. Men can find women, make their dates, and stay hidden to certain people—a wife or girlfriend who’s come on to find them. Can’t do that on the phone apps. Those feed off Facebook. Most people can’t be bothered to make a fake Facebook account—and even when they do, they look fake.”

“Can we get into Laura’s account? See the men she’s contacted?” Rosie asked.

“Not without a password or access to her email. You said you’ve been searching the site?”

Rosie clicked on the icon that held her search. “I kept it within twenty miles of here. Look—it could be any of these guys. We’ve got no photo and no screen name, so I can’t narrow it down.”

Gabe studied the pages, the faces of the men who might be Jonathan Fields. Then he began to type.

“I’m going to widen the search to thirty miles.… Can you print these pages?”

“Okay—but why?”

Gabe was already on his phone. “I have a contact at Verizon. I can get the location of where her phone is, or at least the last place it was live. We’ll see what’s around there and bring the photos. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“That’s it?” Rosie asked. “Can’t we hack into her email or get her call record? I know she was in touch with him to make their plan for the date.”

“The police can,” Gabe said. He looked up from the screen again, his phone pressed to his ear.

“With a warrant. Same for this website. They don’t like to betray their clients. Doesn’t help business.”

Rosie watched and listened as Gabe made his call. It sounded like a woman on the other end of the line. He made small talk, let out a quick laugh. When he asked for the favor, his voice grew more serious.

Please let her be okay.…

Rosie’s phone rang. She picked it up from the table. Gabe’s eyes followed her as she moved across the room. It was Joe.

“Hey,” Rosie whispered.

Joe was yelling over the sound of the street noise. But his words came through loud and clear.

“I found the car! It’s on Richmond. I found it!”

Thank God!

“Is she there? Is anything there, inside?”

Gabe’s expression grew curious.

Joe sounded breathless. “Just her other purse. There’s nothing in it but junk. She got a parking ticket at seven forty-five p.m. and another at ten this morning—they’re on the windshield. It’s been here all night. What do you want to do?”

Rosie didn’t answer. She held the phone away from her ear and looked at Gabe, shaking her head. He seemed to understand.

“Rosie?” Joe said again.

“Gabe may have something.…”

Rosie’s phone went silent just as Gabe got his answer. He stood up and started pacing as he listened.

“Are you sure?” he asked the woman on the other line.

Joe was speaking again into Rosie’s ear. “What did he find?”

“Hold on,” she said. Then, to Gabe: “What did they say?”