The Night Before(28)

“Where did she go?” Rosie asked. “Seriously—why would she tell us those things but then disappear?”

Joe shrugged. “We don’t know what she even means by any of this. Maybe she just got burned. Maybe she’s just pissed and wants us to think things about him. And now she’s changed her mind.…”

Rosie kept walking around the kitchen island, her eyes darting between Joe and the computer and the door—still hoping to see Laura burst through it as though nothing was wrong. Joe kept talking.

“It’s after five, Rosie. I know what Gabe was saying, but…”

“It’s crazy. That story about Rick and Laura.”

They’d both been saying it, reeling in the chaos Gabe had left in their kitchen.

“I can’t believe we didn’t know. That she didn’t tell us. That he didn’t tell us—and you know Mrs. Wallace told your mother, or something close to it. She told your mother everything. And then your mother never said a word.”

“You’re right. We should call the police,” Rosie said, thinking out loud.

Joe came to her side and wrapped his arms around her and their son.

“Okay … and I’m going to call a sitter—he likes Zoe the best, right?”

Rosie nodded and stroked Mason’s soft hair. Then she looked to her phone and dialed 911.

She gave them the address, told them the situation. A unit was dispatched.

“Fuck,” Joe said when she was done. “Here we go.”

He got up from the table and took Mason from her arms. He called the sitter and begged for her to come, even just to take Mason to the park for an hour. He put him in a booster seat and turned on cartoons. He gave him some cookies and milk to distract him. Then he refreshed the computer screen. Still, nothing more. No more messages.

Rosie stood at the window in the family room, watching the street.

“Do you think Rick Wallace did something to her? Is that what Gabe was trying to tell us?” She was talking to herself now.

Joe remained in the kitchen, watching her stare at nothing.

“I don’t know, Rosie.”



* * *



The car appeared—no lights, no siren. It pulled to the curb and stopped. Doors opened, then closed. Rosie was waiting for them on the front walk.

“My sister didn’t come home last night.” She explained it all in the kitchen.

“I’ll take Mason upstairs until Zoe comes. Maybe he’ll nap. Maybe I can see if I can find anything else in Laura’s things.” Joe made excuses to leave the room. Mason knew cops only came when there was trouble.

The officers sat at the table, taking notes. findlove.com, Jonathan Fields, the bartender, the woman they’d found using a fake profile. Those three letters—R-U-N.

Rosie gave her name—Rosie Ferro. Then her sister’s name and description. She pulled up a photo for them to see.

Age, last address, height, weight, the color of her eyes.

Rosie hadn’t spoken to the police since that night eleven years before.

What if she was wrong? That night was upon her now as she described her sister.

“Can you spell your sister’s last name?”

The letters stuck in her mouth as she searched for a sign of recognition. L-o-c …

The younger of the two was a woman, Officer Pearson. She looked to be twenty-five, maybe thirty. She would have been a teenager herself that night Rosie heard Laura scream.

The older one was a man. Officer Conway. He was closer to forty. Wedding ring around his finger and some extra pounds around his waist. He would have been on the force back then.

“What time did she leave the house?”

Rosie pulled herself back. “I’m sorry—what was that?”

“The time,” Officer Pearson asked again. “That your sister left the house?”

She gave them the time, as well as Laura’s phone number and email address.

“A friend of ours was able to get the location where her phone died. He has a contact at the carrier, but that was all he could get. It’s been dead since then.”

Officer Conway flipped his notepad back a few pages. Pretended to read something. “So that’s how you found this bar—where someone recognized a photo from possible men on this website?”

Rosie nodded. “That was our first lead. Now we have a woman on the site who knows him.”

Now Pearson. “But you don’t know for certain that your sister was with him last night. Or that this photo belongs to the man she was communicating with. Is that right?”

“Nothing is certain. That’s why we need her phone records and emails, and access to her account on the website. She spoke to him on the phone. I know that for a fact. His number will be there!”

Now Conway. “You know because she told you?”

“Yes. Because she told me. She got dressed up for a date. She brought nothing with her but a purse. She was going to meet this man, Jonathan Fields. His number will be there!”

Rosie could see the doubt creeping in. Laura hadn’t been gone a day yet.

“You need warrants, right? Can you get them or not?” Rosie asked.

Pearson and Conway exchanged a look.

“It’s up to a judge, but most likely not until morning. We can put out a locate on your car,” Pearson said.