“Where is Hollis Merritt now?” asked Gretchen.
Josie clicked out of the case file and onto the JNET database. “Looks like he got his expansion after all. He lives right here in Denton.”
Was that why Riley and Jackson had moved to Denton? Were they connected to the company?
“We’ll pay him a visit after we talk to the kids. How about the woman who gave Merritt his alibi? Does she still live here?”
Josie searched her name in JNET. “She’s dead. Hit-and-run. Two and a half years after Tobias and Cora went missing.”
Gretchen took another huge bite of her pancakes, eating them like they might escape if she didn’t go fast enough. “Isn’t that convenient?”
Twelve
According to their drivers’ licenses, Riley Stevens and Jackson Wright lived at the same address. It was a brick, ranch-style home with a two-car garage located in a quiet development north of Denton University’s campus. Most of its residents were working-class people like nurses, tradespeople, and teachers. Its quaint, tree-lined streets were also home to several city patrol officers.
“What do you think?” Gretchen asked, parking in the empty driveway. “Former almost-step-siblings turned roommates?”
“Maybe,” said Josie as they got out and approached the front door.
Riley was now twenty-three and Jackson thirty. While Tobias’s oldest son had already moved out at the time the couple disappeared, Riley had still been in high school, financially dependent on her mother. Since Cora hadn’t been found, in the eyes of the law, she was still alive. If her body hadn’t been discovered, she would still be considered alive. That status wouldn’t change unless her daughter petitioned the court to have her declared legally dead. That was only possible after a person had been missing without a trace for over seven years. Since her mother disappeared, Riley would not have had the benefit of a life insurance policy—if Cora had one—or even any assets available through her mother’s estate. Since the age of sixteen, she had been alone and broke. Josie didn’t know if she’d had other family to step in or whether her father was in the picture, but in the Herald article, Riley had said it had always been just her and her mother.
They hadn’t had time to comb through the Brighton Springs case file as carefully as Josie would have liked at this point, but she wanted to give the death notifications before anything was leaked to the press. They’d just have to play catch-up later.
Gretchen lifted her hand to knock but before she could, the door swung open. Riley Stevens stood there, tears streaking her face and a cell phone pressed to her ear. Josie had seen the resemblance to Cora Stevens when she pulled up Riley’s driver’s license photo but in person, it was even more pronounced. Riley had the same strawberry-blonde hair—piled loosely on top of her head—and the same vibrant brown eyes. From the many police reports Josie had skimmed at the diner, she knew that Cora had been five foot three. Riley was about the same height. A pair of leggings and a fitted T-shirt with the words I’m Not Short, I’m Fun-Sized emblazoned across it showed off her soft curves—another feature she shared with her mother.
Her eyes flitted back and forth between them, zeroing in on the guns at their waists. Into her phone, she said, “I’ll call you back.”
“Miss Stevens…” Gretchen began.
Riley used the palm of her hand to wipe away her tears. On her left hand, a dainty pear-cut engagement ring flashed. Below it was a thin diamond wedding band. Perhaps she and her former almost-step-sibling weren’t simply roommates after all.
“It’s definitely true then?” Riley croaked. “You found them?”
Josie made introductions. She and Gretchen presented their credentials, but Riley barely looked at them. Holding her cell phone to her chest, she said, “That was Zane. Um, Tobias’s son. He said… he said someone was just at the house and—” A sob shook her body. Her free hand clutched the doorframe.
“We’re very sorry, Miss Stevens,” Gretchen said gently. “It’s true. Your mother and Tobias Lachlan have been located.”
“Would you mind if we came in?” Josie asked. “We can answer any questions you have.”
Riley sniffled and nodded, shoring herself up. Her phone chirped. Wiping away more tears, she glanced at the screen. “Yeah, you can come in. My husband is on his way home now.”
Josie and Gretchen followed her over the threshold and into a small living room filled with random objects. One box of vinyl records and two boxes of old books sat on the couch. Atop the coffee table was a large marble bust of what appeared to be a Victorian-era woman. Beside that was an eight-track machine. Along the opposite wall was a church pew with a rolled-up carpet standing beside it. There were three red industrial bar stools clustered together and a tall cherry cabinet of some kind with a crank on its side—an antique phonograph cabinet maybe. Beyond that was a gorgeous Chinese rosewood table. Three Corningware bowls were stacked on its surface.
“Sorry about the chaos,” Riley said over her shoulder, leading them into a dining room. At the center of it was a table covered in piles of paperwork. Near one end was an open laptop. “I work from home selling antiques and collectibles online.”
Josie paused in front of a credenza, taking a quick inventory of the framed photographs displayed. There was one of Tobias and Cora dressed up—at a wedding perhaps. Just like most of the other photos Josie had seen of the couple, Cora’s face glowed, eyes sparkling, and Tobias looked as though he couldn’t believe she was on his arm. Other pictures showed a younger Cora—sometimes alone and sometimes with Riley when she was just a gap-toothed elementary schooler. In another, Tobias appeared, thinner and with less weight around his middle, crouched between two pre-teen boys. Then there were wedding pictures, just as Josie had expected.
Riley had married her older, would-be stepbrother, Jackson Wright.
Josie recognized his face from the driver’s license photo she had pulled up while searching for his current address. Thick dark hair contrasted with midnight-blue eyes. His sharp jaw was covered in stubble, giving him a rugged look. In his driver’s license picture, he’d stared at the camera, unsmiling, giving off an air of menace but on his wedding day, he was transformed, gazing at his bride with adoration that was so palpable, it was difficult to look away. He was considerably taller than Riley. She had to angle her head back sharply to beam at him. Former potential step-siblings or not, they were clearly deeply in love.
“Please, sit,” said Riley, taking her place at the head of the table and snapping her laptop shut.
Josie took one last look at the frames, noting several of an infant and then a toddler boy with a young woman who strongly resembled Jackson. His mother, most likely. In one she held an infant bundled in a blue blanket and stared lovingly at his tiny face. The others showed him as a toddler. The woman held him or hugged him. They played with wooden trains and building blocks. In another picture Jackson held a record while she tapped against a keyboard. Without fail, her eyes twinkled when she looked at the camera.
The last photo showed Riley as a teen, flanked by a younger Jackson and a teenage boy whose smile was very similar to Tobias’s. It had to be Zane Lachlan.
“Anywhere is fine,” Riley added. “Don’t mind all the paperwork.”