The Last Thing She Ever Did(70)

“I’ll do the talking when we see the Franklins, all right?” she said.

“Yeah,” he said. “You can do that.”

“After we let the parents know what’s going on, we’re heading out there to the site. You going to be okay?”

Jake puffed himself up a little. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Thanks for the warning. I need to psych myself up just a little.”

She offered a grim smile and drove on.



David Franklin answered the door. He was dressed for work in a shirt that was so new, Esther could see the telltale folds that indicated it had not been laundered yet. Just out of the package.

“Mr. Franklin,” she said, “we need to talk to you and Mrs. Franklin.”

“This isn’t good, is it?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “I can see it in your eyes. Especially yours.” He raised his chin, indicating Jake, who hung back behind Esther.

“Is Mrs. Franklin home?”

“No, not exactly. She’s next door. You want me to go get her?”

“That would be a good idea,” Esther said.

While the detectives stood there, David went over to the Jarretts’ place and knocked.

“That was kind of weird,” Jake said.

“What are you thinking?”

“He said not exactly when you asked if she was home. That’s a weird response.”

Esther agreed. “Yeah, it is.”

Carole was still in her bathrobe when she and her husband made their way back to the front door of what had once been a dream home. Carole, who had looked so together the first time Esther saw her, was a mess. Her hair was flat on one side of her head. She’d clearly slept in her makeup. Mascara smeared her cheekbones. Before Esther even said a word, Carole was crying.

Behind them was Liz Jarrett, hovering close to offer support, but not so close as to be part of what appeared to be a serious development.

“You found him,” Carole said. “You found our Charlie?”

“Let’s go inside,” Esther said. “All of us.”

“Just tell me,” Carole said.

“There isn’t anything to really tell you. Nothing conclusive. I’m here because of a discovery made late last night. A trucker pulled over off the highway and found something that indicated a crime.”

“What do you mean, ‘indicated a crime’?” David asked.

She ignored him for a moment. “Look, I’m here because news people no longer wait for anything conclusive before jumping ahead with speculation and innuendo.”

Liz leaned into Carole at that point. Both women were unraveling.

“All right,” David said. “Did you find my son? Did someone kill my boy?”

Esther said she didn’t know. “What I can tell you is that some remains were found in a ditch. The medical examiner is probably just on the scene now.”

“Some remains,” Carole repeated. “Some remains. Did the trucker find . . . what did he . . .” Her words caught in her throat, and she stopped, unable to go on. Liz helped Carole inside and over to the sofa, where the two of them sat down.

David stayed put. “What exactly did they find?”

“Remains, Mr. Franklin. The trucker found only a partial body. That’s all I know.”

“I want to go there,” Carole said, getting up. “I want to be there if it’s Charlie.”

“You all need to stay here,” Esther said, looking from Carole to David and back again. “I’ll let you know everything that I can as soon as I am able.”



Back in the car, Jake spoke first.

“That was weird,” he said again.

“Be more specific.”

“Mrs. Franklin was over at the neighbors’ in her bathrobe.”

“So I saw,” she said.

“She didn’t look like she’d bathed. Her hair. Makeup. I don’t think she slept at home last night,” he said, his voice rising a little at the end of the sentence as though he questioned his statement.

“Maybe she went over to the Jarretts’ this morning just before we got there.”

Jake was on a roll. At least he thought so. “I don’t think a lady like that would ever go visiting anyone without looking all perfect like she does all the time.”

Esther looked in the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of Carole and Liz returning to the Jarretts’ house.

“Something’s going on,” Jake said.

“The strain of a missing child is immense,” Esther said, thinking back to her Corvallis case and its aftermath. “It’s beyond the ability of many to cope. Few couples can weather the storm that comes at them. Even fewer marriages can survive when the loss is their only child. You’re right, Jake. Something is going on.”





CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

MISSING: SEVENTEEN DAYS

While Liz put her grandmother’s copper kettle on the stove, Carole stayed quiet. She had said little since the detectives mentioned what had been found along the highway. David had gone back to Sweetwater, his Porsche letting everyone know of his exit.

“Chamomile?” Liz asked.

Carole barely indicated a yes.

“All right. Just a minute.” Liz fished through the cupboard for some sweetener. She knew that Carole liked agave or stevia—natural sweeteners. She’d always been a proponent of whole foods, natural products, for herself and her son.