Page 32 of Our Daughter's Bones
Suddenly, she saw herself running away from Nick’s house in the storm weeks ago. She barely recognized herself. There was nothing polished or collected about her. She was messy; her hair was frizzy, her eyes red, her nose swollen as whimpers escaped her lips. Nick stood at the porch, calling her name. But she didn’t stop.
She recalled the sinking feeling. Like she was on quicksand. She thought time would make it better. She thought this sinking feeling would fade away.
It hadn’t.
Sixteen
September 15
Mackenzie plugged her nose when she entered Sergeant Sully’s office. His office had a map of the state covering the wall on one side. The other wall was plastered with pictures of fish, fishing gear, and insect traps. It was his latest hobby. Before, it was making ships in bottles.
Lately, his office had smelled like Scotch. It was a scent Mackenzie had grown up with—familiar but not comforting. Today it had been replaced by an even stronger odor.
Sully had spent the previous day fishing at Yakima River. It was his dream to catch a four-pound rainbow trout like his brother had. But all he caught was whitefish.
“No trout?” Mackenzie asked.
Sully put his hat away and sulked. “No trout.”
“You didn’t find time to take a shower?”
Sully pressed his lips in a thin line. The ends of his mustache tickled his cheeks. He shed his coat and hung it against the door. “This Erica case is a shit show. Samuel Perez wants the FBI involved.”
“The FBI?” Mackenzie took a seat. “Does he have connections there too?”
He rolled up his sleeves and fixed the clutter on his desk. “Not many. It’s not their jurisdiction so they can’t take over. But they have agreed to consult on the case.”
“What does Nick want?”
“Does it matter?” He extended his hand. She handed him the file for her case. “A man can’t fish in peace. All I catch are these damn whitefish. I wouldn’t mind some variety.”
“You could wait till the end of the month and catch a sculpin?”
His hand flipping the pages froze, and he looked up. “They show up later? Trout love them. Anyway, what am I looking at? Any leads?”
“She was stealing money from her mother but stopped around a week ago. I sent Justin and some officers to comb her room and the house, but the money isn’t there.”
“We’re assuming that the money was on her? Her backpack, perhaps?”
“That’s the most obvious choice.”
“What does it say here?” Sully squinted and pulled the report closer to his face. “Amylum. Polymeric carbohydrate?”
“Starch. Anthony concluded that the antidepressants were placebo. Someone switched her medication out.”
Sully raised his eyebrows. “Strange. Had she been taking these placebo pills?”
“Yes. They sell fifty pills in a bottle. I counted—there were twenty-six pills in there.”
“I see.”
“Her mother has agreed to give us a list of people who would have access to Abby’s room. But she did mention that Abby would always hang out at Erica’s. She rarely invited anyone over because she was embarrassed.”
“Well, teenagers have weird hang-ups. My daughter barely takes my calls. Okay, you think someone was trying to hurt Abby indirectly, by messing with her meds?”
“Yes, but the person who switched her medication falls under the profile of someone more passive,” Mackenzie stood up and started pacing. “Someone who wanted towatchher suffer. Kidnapping is an aggressive action. Unless Abby discovered that someone was messing with her and the person retaliated?”
Sully huffed and leaned back in his chair. “You better hope that’s not what happened. Because that would mean the girl is dead already. Have you considered the possibility that she ran away?”
