Page 112 of All the Missing Pieces

I shook my head. “I’m good.” I couldn’t stand the thought of someone watching me while I gave voice to everything I’d been working on for so long, while I laid my pain bare for the whole world to hear.

“All right, then. Just shoot me a text when you’re done, and I’ll get to work.”

“Sully, it’s after midnight in New York. Just do it in the morning.”

It was his turn to shake his head. “This is important. I want to get it up first thing tomorrow morning, and you know I’m a night owl.”

I sighed. “Okay. But call it if you get too tired.”

“Will do, boss.”

My lips twitched. “G’night.”

“Good luck,” Sully said as he hitendon the call.

The moment he was gone, I began checking my equipment. The mic was secured in the stand. The cable from that tomy audio interface was good. And the USB from that to my computer was ready to go.

I opened Pro Tools and switched on the mic. “Testing one, two, three.”

Sound was good. Right in range. But then again, my body had memorized just how far from the mic I needed to be.

I stared at the screen, licking my suddenly dry lips. My gaze dropped to my notes, the intro I’d written and rewritten countless times as I’d worked at Emerson’s. But now it didn’t seem right.

I turned my head slightly, just enough so I could see a sliver of night sky, the string of lights that centered me. And then I spoke.

“Hi there, podcastlandia. This is Ridley Sawyer, host ofSounds Like Serial. You’re probably wondering why the show looks a little different and why we’re not on the True Crime Channel anymore.”

I traced a strand of stars with my gaze, focusing on them. “The truth is, it was time for me to go out on my own. To follow the path that called to me without the pressure of other voices. But most of all, it’s time for me to tell you why I do what I do.”

The stars went fuzzy as I sucked in a long breath, trying to fill my lungs with all the strength they would need for what was to come. “The night before our college graduation, my twin sister, Avery, disappeared. The only thing left behind was a blood-smeared key chain and signs of a struggle on a wooded path.”

The blur of stars slipped away until all I could see was Avery. Her blue eyes, which were just a bit grayer than mine. The way her nose crinkled when she smiled. How that one lock of hair never quite curled into submission the way she wanted.

“She was an amazing human being. Kind, smart, talented. But more than that, she was loved. By her friends, by our parents, by me. She left a hole in our lives that will never befilled. We will never stop missing her. But maybe we can help her find peace by bringing her killer to justice. And I’d like you to help me do that.”

So I laid it out. Peeled back every agonizing layer until there was nothing left. I gave them everything. And I just prayed that it would be enough.

44

COLT

I paced backand forth across the living room, checking through the front windows every third or so pass. It was almost eleven now, and Ridley had been in that damn van recording for hours. I could still see the light on in the vehicle, knew she was still at work, but I couldn’t help worrying.

That worry grated. Ridley had been doing this for years. She was perfectly capable of covering a story without it wrecking her.

But I knew this one was different. That it was taking more than a piece of her. It was taking countless pieces.

And I hated that. Wanted there to be something I could do to help, to soothe her. But I wasn’t sure there was. The most I could do was help her to weave together the strands we’d uncovered.

I knew when this episode went up, her tip line would be flooded with new strands to investigate. I just hoped there’d be ones of value amidst all the attention seekers out there. Ones that might help us find the answers we both so desperately needed.

But as I stood at my front window, staring out into the dark, I suddenly wasn’t so sure it was worth the price. A month ago, I would’ve given anything to give Emerson the peace she needed, the knowledge she was safe, that her monster was behind bars.Now I hesitated. Paused at the idea of causing Ridley pain to ease Emerson’s.

Because Ridley had become so much more than simply a wild flash of color and energy, throwing my life into chaos. She thought we needed to find the monster to get any real healing, but just her presence was healing me. I was starting to see things through new eyes because of her outlook on life.

I also knew that if I tried to clip Ridley’s wings, she’d never forgive me. I had to let her fight the battle in her way. I could just be there to stand beside her and tend her wounds in the aftermath.

The light in the van went out, and I braced myself, my muscles winding so tight they felt as if they might snap. I didn’t move from the window, couldn’t have even if I’d tried. I watched as Ridley climbed out of her van, locking the door behind her. She started down the path toward the house but then stopped midway.

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