“But what if it was somebody other than us?” Albert had said. “Not a relative.”
“The neighbor,” Isabel had said. “Someone without a personal reason for wanting to give Mom some good news.” The detective, without getting into details, had said a former neighbor of Brie’s had reported seeing someone who looked like her.
“We have to find that person,” Albert said.
So Albert and Isabel had driven to Mulberry Street and found Max, who confirmed he was the one who’d called Detective Hardy about what he’d witnessed. (Norman had felt that they could handle this mission without him, and went home to check on their son and daughter, both in their mid-teens.)
Albert had asked Max whether he’d be willing to accompany them to the hospital and tell their mother what he’d seen. He’d be a more credible witness, Albert and Isabel argued. Not only would he have no reason to lie to Elizabeth, he’d gotten a much closer look at this woman than Albert and Isabel had from the hospital window.
With some reluctance, he agreed.
And now he was standing next to Elizabeth’s bed, but it was Albert who set the stage for the story he was about to tell.
“Mother,” said Albert, “there’s been something of a development today with regard to Brie.”
Elizabeth sat up in bed, surprisingly quickly, considering her health. Her face was a plane crash, every fold in her aging skin diving in anticipation of bad news.
“Oh God,” she said. “They found her.” And by her expression, it was obvious Elizabeth feared it was her daughter’s body that had been found.
Isabel jumped in. “No, Mom, it’s not like that. Just wait. Listen to what Max has to say, and then... then Albert and I have something to tell you as well.”
Albert turned to Max. “Over to you.”
Max told his tale. Elizabeth listened carefully and without interruption. When Max was done, she nodded thoughtfully.
“I see,” she said. “I have a few questions.”
“Of course,” Max said.
“How much distance was there between you and this woman?”
“I would guess maybe thirty, forty feet.”
“Do you drink?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you drink, Max? Had you been drinking the night before?”
“A couple of beers, maybe.”
“If, hypothetically, my daughter were to call you on the phone, out of the blue, would you recognize her voice?”
“Uh, well—”
Albert felt a need to step in. “You’ll have to excuse my mother, Max. Her background’s in journalism and fact-checking and always getting it right.”
Elizabeth shot her son a look. “Don’t apologize on my behalf.” She focused on Max again. “Would you know her voice?”
“I don’t suppose I would. But this woman didn’t not sound like Brie, if you know what I mean.”
Elizabeth’s expression turned sour. “Did you get a look at the license plate on the car?”
“No.”
“Did she call you by name, like she knew you?”
“No.”
Elizabeth found the strength to lift her hands six inches off the bed and wave them dismissively. “Thank you, Max.”
“There’s more,” Albert said.
He told her what he and Isabel and Norman had witnessed from the window, and how they had then raced down there to try to find the woman who had waved to them.
“But you didn’t find her,” Elizabeth said.
“We didn’t,” Isabel said.
“And you saw her from this window, which would have been a lot farther away than Max here was from her, if it was the same person.”
“True,” Albert said. “But—”
“Stop,” Elizabeth said. She appeared exhausted. “I don’t know what you expect me to think. It’s just... I don’t know. If only one of you had managed to get a picture.”
“Oh,” said Max. “I have a picture.”
The room went quiet as Elizabeth looked at him. “You have a picture?”
He got out his phone. “Our neighbor, Brian, the one who built the new house on the lot, has a security camera. Before I came over here I went over to see him and he gave me a screen capture—”
“A what?”
“A photo of what the security camera picked up,” Max said.
He brought the image up onto the phone’s screen and handed it to Elizabeth. She fumbled about under her covers for a pair of glasses, found them, and slipped them on.
“These don’t work that well for me anymore,” she said. “But let me have a look.” She still sounded skeptical as she touched the screen.
“What happened?” she asked, flustered. “What did I do?”
“It’s okay,” Max said. “You probably touched something you shouldn’t have.” He took the phone, found the image again, and held it out to her.
Elizabeth took a moment to focus. “It’s hard to see.”
Max took the phone back from her once again, this time using his thumb and index finger to enlarge the image. This time, he held it in front of Elizabeth so she wouldn’t have to touch the image and possibly disrupt it somehow.
“What do you think, Mom?” Albert asked.
His mother was silent for several seconds. She put her hand to her lips and held them there, as though trying to stop herself from saying what she wanted to say.
“Mom?” said Isabel.
Elizabeth took her hand away. When she spoke, her voice was no more than a whisper.
“Oh my God,” she said. “It’s Brie.”
Twenty
Andrew
The ringing of my phone had startled both of us, considering I’d just told Jayne that if Brie were still alive, she’d call. We both must have looked as though we’d heard an ominous sound in the basement. I felt my heart skip a beat.
I got out my phone and looked, first, at the screen. Nothing. The caller ID was blocked. Jayne had raised her head, trying to see who the caller was, so I turned the phone so she could see for herself. By this point, it had rung four times.
“Are you going to answer it?” she asked.
I nodded, tapped the screen, and put the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I said.
Nothing.
“Hello?” I said again.
“Is it her?” Jayne asked. “Is it Brie?”
I wasn’t going to ask that question, but I allowed whoever was on the other end another five seconds to say something, anything. When no one spoke, I finally ended the call.
“Who was it?” Jayne asked.
“Nobody.”
“How do you know?”
“Well, they didn’t say anything. It was probably a nuisance call, like, from a telemarketer or something. Or someone threatening to come arrest me because I haven’t paid my taxes. I hear that half the time, when you answer, these scammers are still busy annoying someone else and never get to you. I’m sure that’s all it was.”
Jayne did not look convinced.
“Honestly,” I said, “I’m sure it was—”
The phone, still in my hand, rang again, causing us both to jump for a second time.
“Jesus,” I said. This time, however, there was a name on the screen. GREG. I answered. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Greg said. “Thought I’d check in, see if you knew anything more than you did a few hours ago.”
“No,” I said, looking at Jayne.
Jayne mouthed the words “Who is it?” and I mouthed my friend’s name.
She whispered back, “What does he want?”
“Hang on,” I said to Greg, then put my hand over the bottom half of the phone. “I went to talk to him. About this morning.”
“You talked to him before you talked to me?” she asked.
“I wanted his take, to—”
“Hello?” Greg said. “You there?”