Page 52 of The Gallagher Place
There was also the yard, the road, the woods.
Mr. Babel
Pete Gallagher
Harry Gallagher
Damen
Jennifer
Marlowe set the pen down, rubbed her eyes, and glared at the list. She skipped over her family members. They had given her nothing the last twenty years, and she didn’t expect them to come forth with some revelations now. But Luke, Liam, and Mike could be different.
Luke remained a close friend to Nate. He stood by his side as a groomsman at Nate and Stephanie’s wedding, delivering a hilarious and heartfelt speech. Though he lived in Philadelphia, he made a point of visiting the Gray House with his family once a year.
As for Henry’s friend Liam, Marlowe was fairly certain he still lived in New York. She pictured his round, bespectacled face and winced. Liam and Henry hadn’t simply drifted apart; their friendship was shattered that summer. Marlowe could still hear echoes of Liam’s parents on the phone with Frank and Glory, demanding to know why the detective wouldn’t leave their son alone. After that, Liam never returned to the Gray House. By the time the next school year began, he had transferred elsewhere.
Pestering poor Liam had done Brierley no good. He was the most vulnerable, yet whatever Brierley had hoped to extract from him yielded nothing. So who should he have pursued instead?
Her eyes landed on Mike’s name. A friend, but not very close. Marlowe remembered him pale and shamefaced and hungover the morning after Nora disappeared, climbing into Luke’s car. They said they would just get out of everyone’s way. They gladly gave Brierley all their information and fled to Luke’s family’s home in Connecticut. Marlowe remembered him all but fading from Nate’s life after that. Last she heard, he had moved to Houston.
She pulled her laptop toward her and flipped it open. She searched “Mike Cameron Houston.” It didn’t take long to find him. He was an orthopedic surgeon. She looked at his photo on theTexas Medical Center’s website for a long time. His hair was thinner, and he had gained a bit of weight, but it was him.
Marlowe dashed off a quick email. She didn’t go into detail—just said she would like to catch up. He would know what it was about, and she doubted he would respond.
As soon as she clicked Send, she drummed her fingers against the table, restless energy buzzing through her. She had been so sure she knew everything about Nora, but her memory had been playing tricks on her. Her testimony would never stand up in court.
Glancing over the list of names once more, Marlowe pushed back her chair, crossed the room, and grabbed her coat from the closet.
Nora’s old friends from school were like phantoms now, nameless and faceless, but she did remember Nora’s old boyfriend, Sean Hastings. Marlowe had almost been fond of him herself. She had craved romance, even if she had been too afraid to start one of her own. At least she could live vicariously through Nora.
They broke up after a year together, in a dramatic ordeal that Marlowe had to help Nora rehearse and reiterate to Sean on multiple occasions. Marlowe hadn’t seen or spoken to him since, though she had kept tabs on him. It wasn’t difficult—Sean had never gone far. Marlowe overheard from neighbors that he lived nearby with his wife, a hairstylist, and that he worked at the hardware store in town.
Outside the store, she squinted through the window but couldn’t make out the man behind the register. The bell jingled as she stepped inside, and then she saw him. The long hair she remembered was now cropped short, dusted with gray. He was tall, still lean, dressed in a flannel shirt and jeans, arms stretched against the counter. She remembered how he used to shake out those sinewy arms before stepping onto the pitcher’s mound. She had sat through enough games by Nora’s side.
Sean recognized her immediately. “Marlowe, hi.”
“Hi, Sean.” She tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. She glanced around the store. An employee was stocking shelves on the far wall. The rest was cluttered and disorganized. But locals knew their way around it.
Marlowe steadied herself, smoothing a gloved hand over her coat. She often wondered what it had been like for him. His first girlfriend, a girl he was in love with, vanishing seven months after she dumped him. He didn’t have the greatest claim to tragedy; that belonged to Nora’s parents. And, Marlowe liked to think, to her.
She had thought about reaching out before, but what comfort could they possibly offer each other?
Sean gave her a sad, lopsided smile. “I’m guessing you’re not here for a screwdriver?”
“No.” Marlowe shook her head. “You heard about the body.”
“Yeah, everyone’s heard.” His dark eyes stayed locked on her. “The detectives came by. Asked about Nora.”
She exhaled, relieved by his directness. She had no patience for subtlety. “They’ve reopened her case.”
“That’s what they told me. They asked me if I wanted her found.” Sean bowed his head, but his voice harbored some quiet rage.
“That’s a ridiculous question,” Marlowe said. “Of course you do. Like I do. I realize we never really talked about it. But I know it must have been hard for you too.”
Sean’s expression hardened. “I wouldn’t have welcomed you back then if you tried. Everyone knew Nora wouldn’t have disappeared if not for your family.”
The words were a slap across the face, but Marlowe didn’t budge.
