Page 123 of What She Saw
I locked my elbow, turning my arm into a rod. “Come on. I bet you know a lot of details about this case. If you didn’t meet Patty, you could have bought a burger from her.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Please, leave.”
“I can’t.” I spoke softly but my arm remained rigid. “I must find the missing women. I must find my mother.”
“I can’t help you.”
“Susan, I’m not going away.” I stepped back and she slammed the door.
I sat on the front stoop, reached for my phone, and called Grant. He answered, and our gazes locked. “It’s her. And it’s going to be a while.”
“I have all the time in the world.”
“Good.” I began scrolling. I didn’t pay close attention to what I was seeing, but it gave me something to do with my hands while I waited for Susan to chill.
In the distance I heard a police siren and wondered if Susan had called my bluff. The sound grew closer. I kept scrolling. But then the wail trailed off and stopped.
As the sun rose higher in the sky, it grew warmer. I should have packed a hat. Sunburn was always a drag. But I didn’t budge from my perch. Grant stood in the driveway, and his stance was relaxed, as if he’d done a thousand stakeouts.
Inside, I heard footsteps pacing by the front window. Curtains fluttered. More neighbors left for work. A few glanced in my direction. But I smiled and waved as if my sitting here were the most normal thingin the world. A smile and an attitude went a long way to dissuading anyone’s worries.
Another hour passed.
At 9:30, Susan opened her door. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m very determined.” I didn’t glance up from my phone. “My ass is bonded to your front steps until we talk.”
“I have to go to work.”
“Your studio opens at noon, right?”
“How much do you know about me?”
“As much as a quick internet search could tell me. There’s a lot more I’d like to know about you.”
“How did you find this house?”
I remained relaxed. She was talking to me. Progress. I skipped the part about the tracker on her car. “I started with your studio, which has a good online presence. Finding your home address took more legwork.” The next was a guess. “Hiding your home address behind your incorporated company was a good idea.”
“I like my privacy.”
I looked over my shoulder. Her face was flushed and her eyes red. “I don’t want to invade your life. But Colton is about to be released. And you saw something at that festival that sent you into hiding for thirty-one years.”
“I’m not who you think I am.”
“I think you’re Tristan Fletcher. I’m still not sure if you were Colton’s helper or one of his victims.”
Her face paled. “I would never have helped him hurt anyone.”
Ah, an admission of sorts. But I didn’t look at her, fearing she’d lock down again. “So, you did know him?”
She pursed her lips. “The press covered the case extensively.”
“I know. I’ve read all the articles.” I shook my head and closed my phone as I rose. I faced her. “Those women were silenced. I want to give them a voice.”
“Everyone has forgotten them.” The words slipped over her lips like a whispered curse.
“Their families have not. They’re still grieving. They can’t move on because there’s a hole in the middle of their hearts.” The words sounded trite, corny even. But the image summed it up. “I’m not leaving for their sake.”
