The Vanishing Season (The Collector #4)(7)

“My mother once forgot me and left town.”

“What?”

“My dad was out of the country for a business trip, so we were going to take the long weekend to go visit her sister a few hours away. Only she drove off without picking me up from school. I ended up spending the whole weekend at my best friend’s.”

“She didn’t come back?”

“Didn’t realize I wasn’t there until my aunt asked her. She thought I’d just been sulking in the backseat. Decided driving back all those hours was just too stressful, too much for her nerves.” I lean against the other side of the counter, watching the steady movements of his hands over the assembly line. “We were lucky my best friend’s family wasn’t planning to go anywhere. Accidents happen, but we shouldn’t have to expect the worst when they do.”

He gives me a jaundiced look but doesn’t argue.

“As I told your daughter, this is the fault of whoever took Brooklyn. No one else.”

“I work the crime desk at the Times-Dispatch. I know the odds. Especially with it taking so long to get anything set up.”

“Throw the odds out the window.”

“But—”

“No, throw them out. Yes, we’ve faced disappointments, but we’ve also seen miracles. I’m not going to write Brooklyn off because of odds, and neither are you. Hope is a strong thing.”

“The ancient Greeks thought it was the worst evil. The one evil Pandora was able to lock back up.”

“Was it? Or was it the thing we kept to help us against the evils?”

His hands still, mustard oozing off the butter knife. “You look so much like her.”

Fortunately, Daniel and Eddison join us in the kitchen just then, Daniel red-eyed and tense. His father immediately puts down the knife and bread to hug him, and Daniel sinks into the embrace.

“We’ll come back when we have more questions,” Eddison says quietly. “My card is on the mantel if you need anything in the meantime. If you need to take Rebecca back to the doctor, let one of the agents or officers know, please.”

Nodding, Eli buries his face in his son’s messy hair.

We let ourselves out, gently closing the door behind us. Nelson and Murdock are nowhere to be found, but that’s fine.

“Rebecca drew me the route they take home from school. Anything we need to do here before we check it out?” I ask.

“No, but text Watts, let her know we’re moving.”

I report to Watts, who texts back roger that still with mercers with R. Must be typing with her off-hand.

Once upon a time, Mercedes was a missing child, sort of. It gives her an exquisite kind of sensitivity atop her usual kindness, the same way Eddison, almost despite himself, is very good with the boys like Daniel, the scared older brothers.

My specialty generally comes later, once we’ve identified our suspect. I’m the one who’s best with the families of the people we’re hunting.

I put my phone away and we head down the street. People are milling around, wanting to help but mostly getting in the way.

An older woman stops us several houses down, one hand on my arm. “Oh, dear. Are you Alice’s sister?”

Because Brooklyn has her mother’s coloring.

I pull back the side of my coat just enough to show the badge and gun at my belt. “No, ma’am. I’m Agent Sterling; this is Agent Eddison. We’re here with the FBI.”

She snatches her hand back. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I just thought . . . you look so much . . .”

“I understand. You know the Mercers well?”

“Not . . . not very well. Brooklyn and Rebecca are in the same Brownie troop as my granddaughter Suzie. They, ah . . .” She laughs self-consciously, absently fluffing her greying hair. “They don’t get along, I’m afraid.”

We talk to her for a few minutes and then continue down the street, Eddison tapping notes into his tablet. A similar interaction happens four more times before we turn the corner. One sad-eyed man, probably in his late sixties or early seventies, takes a step back when he sees me, clutching a handful of fliers to his chest. When he relaxes a minute or so later, I can see Brooklyn’s face printed on the papers.

I catch Eddison eyeing me cautiously. “Just say it.”

“It’ll be Watts’s decision.”

“But?”

“But you should probably be prepared to stay at the office from now on. With a resemblance this strong, the effect isn’t going to fade as we move away from the neighborhood.”

“Couldn’t that be useful? Startle whoever has her?”

“If they still have her, and if they’re out here to startle.”

True.

I sigh and look down the street. “The route is completely open,” I note.

He smirks at the none-too-subtle subject change but goes along with the new direction. “No trees overhanging, wide street, lots of lamp posts. She likely went missing in broad daylight, but even so, if you were going to plan a kidnapping, this is not the street most would go for.”

“Was it planned, though? Or was it opportunity?”

“What did Rebecca say?” A pained expression flickers across his face. His sister had friends like that, including a best friend she was supposed to always walk home with.