First Girl Gone(3)

Charlie took a deep breath.

“How long has she been gone?”

Misty’s hands clenched around the handles of her purse.

“Two days. We had a fight… an argument. And she stormed out of the house. I haven’t seen her since.”

“What about her friends?”

Misty shook her head.

“I’ve called everyone. No one knows where she is.”

A montage flashed in Charlie’s head of the early days of her sister’s disappearance. The panicked phone calls. The frantic searching. She didn’t have to imagine what Misty was feeling because she’d been through it all herself.

“Have you talked to the police?” Charlie asked.

Misty nodded.

“They took down a report, said they’d ‘look into it,’ whatever that means. That’s why I need your help.”

Charlie sighed. She could see the anguish in Misty’s eyes and remembered that feeling, the way not knowing gnawed at your insides until they were raw. But the reality was, a missing persons case wasn’t in her wheelhouse, not with the resources she’d be working with. A1 Investigations was equipped for run-of-the-mill stuff: cheating spouses, insurance claims, worker’s comp fraud, bail jumpers, and, yes, the occasional missing pet.

Folding one hand over the other, Charlie gazed across the desk at her old friend.

“I’m really sorry you’re going through this, and I know how worried you must be. But I’m not quite sure how I can help.”

Misty blinked, letting loose a tear that slid down the side of her face.

“You guys are the best. Everyone says so. My cousin hired Frank when she was going through her divorce. He’s the reason she got sole custody of the kids.”

Charlie fiddled with the corner of her notepad. She hated this. Hated having to turn an old friend away when she was scared and desperate, but she didn’t know what else she could do.

“That’s what I’m trying to say, I guess. Divorces, marital issues… those are the kind of things we’re equipped to handle,” Charlie said, trying to sound apologetic. “Don’t get me wrong, we’re very good at what we do, but this sounds like something that’d take manpower and hours way beyond our capability.”

“If it’s an issue of money, I’ll pay. I will pay anything to get my daughter back.” Misty opened her purse and started to pull out her wallet. “Some of it might have to go on credit cards, but—”

“No, Misty. It’s not about the money.”

“Then I don’t understand. You’re a private investigator. You find things. So why can’t you try to find my daughter?”

Eyes closed, Charlie frowned. Misty wasn’t hearing her.

“I’m trying to tell you that this is something better left to the police. They’ve got the resources to handle a case like this. We don’t.”

Misty stared at her wordlessly. The silence stretched out long enough that Charlie felt obligated to fill it with something.

“The police will find your daughter. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.”

Brow furrowed once more, Misty swung her head from side to side.

“I can’t believe this. When I walked in the door and saw you sitting behind the desk, I thought it was the answer to all of my prayers. Because if there was one person who would understand, one person who would listen and take me seriously, it would be you.”

“Misty—”

“No! How can you tell me everything will be OK after what happened with your sister?”

The comment hit Charlie like a punch to the gut. Everyone in town had an opinion on the disappearance of Allison Winters, but the one thing they could all agree on was that the Salem Island police had botched the investigation. And it was true, wasn’t it? They’d never found her sister. Never brought her killer to justice. And Charlie’s family had never gotten any closure.

The lump in Charlie’s throat kept her from speaking, and she wasn’t sure what she’d say anyway, so she kept quiet.

“How can I trust them to find my Kara after that?” Misty asked. “Besides, they’ve already written her off as a runaway. I saw it on their faces the second I mentioned that she’d run off a time or two in the past. Little sidelong glances at each other like I’m too dumb to know what they’re thinking. They gave up on her right then, I could see. They don’t care that this time is different.”

With a final sniffle, Misty snapped her purse shut and got to her feet.

“Well, if you won’t help me, then I guess I should be moving on. Someone out there’ll take my money. But thank you for your time anyhow.”

Charlie found her voice at last.

“You said she’s left before, but this time is different,” she said. “Why? What’s different about it?”

Pausing near the door, Misty squinted at Charlie, like the question might be a trap.

“Her phone. It goes straight to voicemail. Like it’s turned off or something. If you knew Kara, you’d know that means something is wrong. She never turns her phone off. It’s always glued to her hand.”

Charlie plucked a pen from the mug on the desk and flipped to a fresh sheet of paper on her notepad.

“Does this mean you’ll take the case?” Misty asked, and Charlie could hear the hope in her voice.