Page 13 of She Didn't See It Coming
“I’ll make some coffee,” Sam says, and moves to the granite counter. The fact that the night has passed and Bryden hasn’t been found hangs heavily over them. They don’t speak as the coffee is brewing. Then he brings their mugs and the milk to the table and sits down heavily. He takes a gulp of the caffeine, hoping it will clear his head. He looks at Lizzie, summons his courage, and asks, “What do you think has happened to her?”
Lizzie looks back at him with frightened eyes. “Do you think it might be that guy in 811?”
“Maybe.”
She whispers, her voice intense. “I can’t stand it that he’s there, just across the hall.”
“I know.” After a long pause, he asks impulsively, “Do you know anything I don’t? About Bryden? About her life?”
“What? What are you talking about?” Lizzie asks, startled.
He stares at her as she observes him with dismay and then says, “I’m sorry. I—just don’t know what to think.”
Lizzie takes a deep breath, lets it out, and says, “I don’t know anything about her that you don’t, I swear. Do you think she was keeping something from you?”
“No, of course not.” But he can tell that his question has unsettled her. Has made her wonder if things weren’t so perfect between them. He wishes he hadn’t asked.
Lizzie says, “There was nothing, and Bryden tells me everything. We’re very close, you know that.”
Her statement annoys him slightly because he knows that isn’t strictly true. She and Bryden are up and down, they have their issues, and now she’s pretending they don’t. They’re not so close that Bryden would necessarily tell her everything.
“I know she was happy with you and Clara,” Lizzie says, reaching over and covering his hand on the table with hers. “I’m afraid for her. I’m afraid that she answered the door to someone, someone like Kemp, and they took her. She wouldn’t just walk away, leave her phone and purse behind. Leave you and Clara behind. She wouldn’t. It’s like she was…interrupted. And just vanished.” Tears begin to spill down her face, and he squeezes her hand helplessly.
After a while she says, “Mom and Dad are arriving today. I have to go pick them up at the airport. Will you be okay on your own? What are you going to do about Clara?”
He hadn’t even thought about it. Should he keep her at home, or would she be better off at day care, where she’d have a normal routine? But everyone at day care will know her mother is missing by now. Or soon will. He has to call the office. There’s going to be a press conference at nine, and then everyone will know. Maybe he should ask Angela to take her?
“Let me take care of her,” Lizzie suggests. “You’ve got too much to deal with. I’ll call the day care and tell them. Then I’ll take her to the Albany airport to pick up Mom and Dad. She’ll be happy to see them. It will distract her. Make her feel secure to have us all around her.” She adds, “But Sam, you’re going to have to figure out what to tell her soon.”
He nods. “I know.” He closes his eyes briefly, then opens them and whispers, “Thank you.”
“We’re all here for you,” Lizzie says.
He nods. “I’m here for you too,” he answers. “This is hard for all of us.”
8
Jayne is back at the police station early the next morning. Bryden Frost has not been found. Her computer has revealed that the last time she saved the document she was working on was at 12:42 p.m. Other than that, her computer and her phone have revealed little of interest. Just work and friend emails and texts, completely normal internet shopping and so on. Bryden was not particularly active on social media, except for the odd Facebook post. Bank records show no unusual activity except for one cash withdrawal, of $2,700, several weeks ago. The timing corresponds to a couple of phone calls she had from a number in her contacts—from a Derek Gardner. That number had never appeared before or since. She will ask Sam Frost about that. In fact, Bryden’s life appears almost dull. She married Sam five years ago when she was thirty years old. They both have stable jobs. Clara is their only child. They are comfortably well off.
Jayne does the planned press statement and public appeal for information at nine. There is a lot of interest from the press, as is typical in these missing persons cases.
After the press conference, Kilgour leaves to follow up on Kemp’s alibi, and Jayne returns to the condo to speak to Sam Frost again. She arrives there shortly after 9:30. There is a different officer stationed outside the door today. Jayne knows that Henry Kemp had not left his apartment until 8:15 that morning, at which time a plainclothes officer followed him to his workplace. The officer will remain there to keep an eye on his movements, just in case, while Kilgour looks into Kemp’s alibi more closely.
Sam is expecting her—she’d called ahead to tell him she was on her way. As he lets her into the apartment, she notes how drawn he looks—he clearly hasn’t slept. He hasn’t showered either. He’s in old jeans and a plain white T-shirt, and his hands shake when he brings her coffee. None of this is extraordinary. It’s just what you’d expect in a man whose wife is missing. It’s also what you might expect in a man who’d gotten rid of her.
She sits in the armchair while he sits across the coffee table from her on the sofa. The apartment is noticeably quiet. No sounds of a child, and the sister isn’t here either. They appear to be alone. “Are Lizzie and Clara not here?”
He shakes his head. “She has to pick up her parents at the airport later and she offered to take Clara—to distract her. To give me a break. She wanted to get her place ready for them first.” He sighs heavily. “Clara was crying for her mother off and on all night. Christ,” he mutters and slumps on the sofa, the picture of exhaustion and misery.
“How are you holding up, Sam?” Jayne asks sympathetically.
He doesn’t answer, just shakes his head.
“I’d like to ask you a few more questions, if that’s all right?” she says quietly. He nods. “I assume you were at work yesterday?”
“Yes. I’m a portfolio manager at Kleinberg Wealth.”
“And where is that?”
