Page 16 of She Didn't See It Coming
“All right, that’s it then.” She rises from the sofa, and he shows her to the door.
“Have a nice day, Mr. Gardner.”
He says, “I hope you find her.” He watches her as she gets into her car and reverses out of his driveway.
•••
Jayne drives awayfrom Derek Gardner’s house. She found him rather full of himself. But she has no reason to believe he wasn’t telling her the truth.
She returns to the police station. No one has come forward with any solid information, even after the statement and appeal she’d made earlier that morning. There have been some reports of a woman matching Bryden’s description that have turned out to be otherwise explained. They are still looking into the backgrounds of all the people living or working in the condo building—particularly to see if there’s anyone who has a criminal record. She should have a full report soon.
She gets a call from the plainclothes officer watching Henry Kemp. “Yes?” Jayne says.
“The prick hasn’t gone anywhere except to Dunkin’ Donuts.”
“Stay with him for now,” Jayne says.
Detective Kilgour taps on her door. He’s back from Henry Kemp’s car dealership, where he interviewed Kemp and his employees. He shakes his head. “Kemp left the dealership twice yesterday. Once was for about an hour to grab lunch at a nearby restaurant, and at least two servers vouch for his being there for almost an hour. Another time, in the afternoon, he went on a test drive with a customer. I’ve spoken to her and that checks out too. The rest of the day he was at the dealership. CCTV confirms it. He’s not our guy.”
“Okay,” Jayne says, deflated. “I’d better call off the surveillance then.”
Another officer taps on the door. “I went to Bryden’s firm, Rolf and Weiner,” he says.
“Anything interesting?” Jayne asks.
“They do accounting for a lot of midsize to large businesses in Albany and the environs. Nothing sketchy at all, as far as I can tell. She’s respected and well liked at the firm. When I asked if it was possible she was involved in anything shady, they looked at me as if I was nuts. They all seem very worried about her, and everyone agreed that she would never just walk away from her life.”
Jayne nods. “No. It doesn’t seem likely, does it—we see no signs of any kind of preparation for that. She hasn’t been hiving off money anywhere to make a leap. Not that we can find anyway.”
“Every penny of her paychecks is accounted for,” Kilgour agrees.
“Thanks, Martin,” Jayne says, and the officer departs. “If it was some kind of accident or misadventure,” she says to Kilgour, “we should have found her by now—we’ve searched that building inside and out, and the surrounding area too.” Jayne looks her colleague in the eye. “More likely it’s foul play: either some stranger—someone who knocked on her door—or someone she knew.” She adds, “And they either took her out through the underground parking garage, or she’s still inside the building—possibly in one of the units.” Detective Kilgour nods. “Let’s talk to the people who were closest to her,” Jayne says. “I’m not so sure about the husband. He told me he went out for a couple of hours yesterday, from noon till two, alone—says he picked up lunch and went to Washington Park. That’s a long lunch.” She pauses, then continues. “But before we bring him in, I want to talk to the sister on her own, and the parents too—they’re on their way in from Florida. And I want to speak to her best friend, Paige Mason. Sam mentioned her. We need all the background on the missing woman we can get, before we question the husband.”
10
Lizzie has picked up her parents at the airport and brought them back to her apartment in Center Square, not far from downtown. She has a pleasant two-bedroom in an old brick walk-up with lots of historical features and character. It’s sufficient for her, and she likes the charm of the building and the neighborhood. It’s only a short drive northwest to her sister’s condo in Buckingham Lake.
Although she saw them just three months ago, at Christmas, her parents appear older and more frail than she remembers. Perhaps it’s the shock of Bryden going missing. They seem to be almost helpless. They’re only in their sixties, but they have aged a decade since she last saw them. Her father has always been quiet; her mother is the chatty one. But she isn’t chatty now. She’s mostly silent. Lizzie also has Clara to manage, and she’s a three-year-old, frightened and upset and missing her mother. Lizzie has been trying to comfort her, to keep heroccupied, to stop her crying. The little girl has picked up on the emotional distress of the adults. Her routine is upset. She wants her mother.
This morning, Lizzie took indefinite leave from her work at the hospital for as long as necessary. They are understanding.
She puts Clara on her grandmother’s knee in the living room and goes into her bedroom to call Sam. He picks up immediately. “Any news?” she asks, though she knows that if there was, he would have texted her right away.
“Nothing.”
“We’re back at my place. I’ve got Mom and Dad here.” She doesn’t know whether she should suggest a visit right now or not—he might not be up to it. Her parents have always been close to their son-in-law, and it would be odd if they didn’t go to him. When he doesn’t say anything, she says, “They want to see you.”
“Of course. Bring them over. We should be together.”
“Okay.” She pauses. “Have you eaten anything?”
“No.”
“I’ll stay over again tonight, if you want, to help with Clara. I can drop my parents back here later—they can manage here okay on their own.”
“That would be great. Thanks, Lizzie. How’s Clara doing?”
“She’s okay.”
