He turned a pen between his fingers, looking contemplative. “I see…”
“She was here last evening. Her car is still downstairs,” Mackenzie continued.
That caught him by surprise. “Her car is still here? Interesting.”
“You don’t seem very surprised that she’s missing. What did you talk about?”
Beeker sighed. “Well, I hadn’t signed her on as a client, so attorney–client privilege doesn’t apply. She only came here for a consultation. I practice family law.”
“She wanted to divorce her husband?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “She wanted to discuss the details—child support, alimony, the lot.”
Mackenzie frowned. “Did she mention why she wanted a divorce? Any accusations of abuse?”
“Nothing like that. She didn’t really mention a reason, but I got the feeling she was bored of her life.” He pressed his lips in a thin line. “I see this a lot. It’s the seven-year itch, you know. She was in a rut, feeling stuck in the domestic trap.”
“And what advice did you give her?”
“Told her to wait it out. To go on a vacation. Catch a break.”
“Was yesterday the first time you’d met?”
“Yes, though we spoke on the phone around three days ago.”
Mackenzie drummed her fingers on the armrest. After asking more routine questions and handing Beeker her card, she left the office. Outside, the light had grown softer, with billowing winds sending twigs dancing in the air. Why was Courtney’s car still here? What if her husband had found out she was speaking to a family lawyer?
The sky was ominous. The moon played hide-and-seek behind wisps of floating cloud. The trees were silhouettes against the silver background, creaking and swaying in the gusting wind. But when Mackenzie looked around her, she noted the stark contrast. The carnival was in full swing on the grassy field. The lights were fuzzy. Old music blared from cheap speakers, intercoms announced the names of the winners of the ring toss, darts popped balloons, laughter rang in the air, and so did the screams of those riding the roller coasters.
Mackenzie was standing next to the Ferris wheel, watching a woman waiting in line with a kid, the two of them sharing a funnel cake. Her chest squeezed. She had never had maternal instincts; according to her ex-husband, it was why he’d cheated. Because he was hurt.
“Want some?” A cotton candy was thrust in her face, and Luna smiled at her brightly, blonde hair poking out of her pigtails, chubby face flushed pink, and sticky blue fluff stuck to her chin.
“Thanks, kid.” Mackenzie took it and bit some off.
“This is the last one, Luna.” Nick came from behind her. “I’m already on thin ice with your mom.”
“Why are you on thin ice with Shelly?” Mackenzie asked as they began walking around with Luna between them.
“She thinks carnivals are grungy,” Luna said.
“This is a bad idea. It’s a school night, and there’s no way you’re sleeping if you get a sugar high.” Nick reached for the candy, but she stomped her feet and whined.
“Remember when I got kidnapped, Daddy? Just think about that before you take things away from me. Oh! Spin the wheel!” She grinned and raced ahead.
Mackenzie was left speechless. Nick froze, his mouth hanging open.
“And you were worried she’d need therapy?” Mackenzie attempted to crack a joke.
He groaned. “I can’t believe she’s just nine. Anyway, any news on Courtney? I saw the case on the bulletin.”
“Not yet. Her phone is off, and credit and debit cards haven’t been used.” She relayed her conversation with Beeker.
“The husband looked pretty convincing.” Nick kept a close watch on Luna. “But we’ve seen some good liars before, haven’t we?”
“That’s what I’m thinking.” She paused. “So, how did the meeting with Anthony go?”
Nick gave her a knowing look. She held his gaze. Eventually he gave up. “They didn’t find anything in your car. No prints. No DNA. Nothing.”