Page 21 of Last Seen
But she needs to do research, more research than she was able to do last night. She needs to get deep into the files on her sister, and that, she knows, could be very difficult. If she was charged as an adult, no problem, but as a juvenile, those files could be sealed.
As much as she hates to admit it, she needs Theo.
Chapter Nine
Exhausted after an afternoon of watching her dad alternately sleep and grimace in pain, and dealing with the hospital and insurance company, Halley picks up a pizza, changes into her pj’s, and collapses in the living room. She eats, but her heart isn’t in it. She’s just watching the clock, waiting for Theo to wrap up his workday before she reaches out to ask for a huge favor. He hasn’t called her back, which means he is probably out in the field, serving warrants or some other fun thing. He’s been training a junior agent so has a lot of scut work teaching the newbie the ropes. Or maybe he hasn’t called back because she’s walked out—again, technically—and he’s coming to grips with that.
She has rehearsed what she’s going to say, how this is a professional ask and she will be in his debt for life, et cetera, but the moment Theo’s face comes up on the screen, and his deep voice greets her with a confused “Hals, you okay?” the floodgates open.
It takes a solid five minutes for her weeping to stop, and by the last hiccupy tear, Theo has heard the whole sordid story. He gives a lot of nonjudgmental comfort, which makes her feel gooey and warm inside, and Halley realizes she might be a little more broken up about leaving him than she’s been letting on. She hates seeing her marriage collapse. They used to be so good together, as friends and as lovers. But she can’t help it; she wants a child more than anything. And he’s been crystal clear that it won’t be on his watch. That makes everything impossible.
She hardens her heart again, protecting it, shielding it. She left for a reason. She will not be drawn back into this man’s web just because he’s giving her a shoulder to cry on.
“This is a professional ask,” she says, and Theo nods, his own face shuttering.
“Understood. Can you tell me more? I need details if I’m going to dig into the databases for you.”
Halley gives him everything she’s found thus far and can hear him typing in the background.
Finally, the words she’s been hoping for and yet dreading come. “Yeah, your mom is in the system. I have her autopsy here. Do you want to hear the details?”
“No. But go ahead. I think I have to.”
“It was a straightforward stabbing, with six wounds, midsternum and thoracic. Cause of death was exsanguination due to multiple stab wounds. It’s been closed since 1989, since your sister admitted guilt and was incarcerated. She was in the Davidson County Juvenile Detention Center, then Central State Hospital from 1989 to 1991. She was released on her eighteenth birthday.”
“And then?”
“She met the requirements for parole and exited the system in 1993.”
“So she murdered a woman and only spent two years behind bars? And two more on parole? That seems ... lenient. Then where did she go?”
“Unknown. There’s nothing in the files. There was a psych consult, but I don’t have the transcript here.”
“My dad mentioned Cat was psychotic. Hearing voices. But she was diagnosed with borderline personality, not bipolar or schizophrenia.”
“You’ve got to think about the time frame. There were many incorrect diagnoses in the eighties and nineties. They didn’t know what they didn’t know, especially for juvenile patients. They just thought everyone had ADD and put them on meds. That she went to CentralState—they had a juvenile psychiatric program. Must have been something happening with her mental health.”
“Fair. So here’s something else odd,” Halley says. “I found a missing persons report dated 2002. From Boston.”
“I see it. Do you need me to pull the details?”
“Could you? Especially who submitted it?”
“Of course. And I’ll have a look at the rest of the case file, too, see if there’s anything relevant. Can I get back with you later?”
“Um—”
“It’s just that ... Charlie misses you. He’ll want to see your face. But I have to get out of here before someone questions why I’m at my desk and gives me another case to manage.”
“Of course. Take your time. It’s been fifteen years. Another couple of days isn’t going to matter.”
“Sage thinking,” Theo says. “You hang in there.”
And then she’s alone again.
It gets dark at night in the mountains. The winds blow hard through the trees. Shadows grow where there were once empty spaces. And this late spring night is chilly, so the fire’s backdraft keeps pushing smoke into the room. It smells like rain. She’s set up the iMac on the kitchen table, spread out all her notes and files. Her little room upstairs isn’t big enough for all this.
Theo FaceTimes her at 9:00 p.m., and she answers the call with trepidation. Until yesterday, they haven’t spoken much since she left, and she hasn’t seen him in person, either.
