Her words all made sense, but I couldn’t purge my anger, think as rationally as she did. Anyone that had been a part of Elizabeth’s disappearance deserved my wrath, as far as I was concerned. Anyone that was a part of that had also kept her from me for all those years. I’d never forgive that and I’d never be sympathetic to the consequences they had to deal with.
At the very least, though, her words calmed me and gave me something else to focus on for the moment. It allowed me to clear my head and begin thinking about Bryce Ponder’s parents.
The GPS directed us into a tree-lined neighborhood, the branches heavy with snow. Small, one-story brick homes on large, square lots. The GPS told us we’d reached our destination and I pulled the car next to a pile of snow that was supposed to be the curb and cut the engine.
The house sat up on a small embankment, the garage behind the house, off the alley. Icicles hung from the rain gutters and the walk up the embankment had been shoveled—the shovel still on the front porch next to the door.
We navigated the walk carefully, avoiding small patches of ice, with Lauren holding onto my arm. I pushed the gold button next to the door and we waited for a moment.
A man with a gruff expression opened the door. “Yeah?”
“Mr. Ponder?” I asked.
“We don’t want any,” he said.
“We’re not selling,” I said. “We’re here about your son. Bryce.”
He shrugged. “He’s not here.”
“We’re aware,” I said. “We’d like to speak to you about him.”
“Why? Who are you?”
“My name’s Joe Tyler,” I said. “This is Lauren. We believe your son is with our daughter, Elizabeth.”
He blinked several times. “Your daughter?”
I nodded.
“I’ve met the girl’s parents,” he said. “You aren’t them.”
“It’s complicated,” I said. “If you’ll let us in, we’ll explain.”
“I’m not interested,” he said and started to shut the door.
“Your son is an adult,” I said. “Our daughter is not. I’ll call the police if I need to.”
His hand rested on the door and he ran the other across his jaw, his mouth twisting in decision. He stared at me, unsure what to do.
Then he unlatched the screen door and pushed it open. “You’ve got five minutes.”
FORTY-EIGHT
Ponder ended up giving us more than five minutes.
He showed us into his small living room, where his wife was waiting.
She smiled nervously. “Hello. I’m Marian. I heard you at the door. You’re here about Bryce?”
I nodded.
“Please sit,” she said, gesturing to a beige sofa. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“They aren’t staying, Marian,” Ponder said, glancing at her.
“No, but thank you,” I said to Marian. “We’re fine.”
She nodded, the nervousness still apparent as her hands fidgeted, trying to find a place to land.
Lauren and I reintroduced ourselves to her and then sat on the sofa.
“You aren’t the girl’s parents,” Ponder said, folding his arms across his chest. “So, who are you?”
Before I could answer, Lauren said, “The girl you know as Ellie? Her name is actually Elizabeth. She was taken from us about eight years ago.”
And with that, Ponder’s entire expression softened. As Lauren explained the history and how we’d shown up at their door, he eased himself down into an olive-green recliner and Marian came over to stand next to him, listening.
Lauren told the story impassively. She kept the emotion out of her voice, sharing with them the facts. It was her lawyerly training. She was bringing them around to her side. She’d been wise to cut me off before I began ranting and raving and making threats. She’d made more progress in ten minutes than I might’ve made in thirty.
“There’s no doubt,” Lauren said, looking at each of them. “She’s our missing daughter. The Corzines admitted as much. Now, we just need to locate her. And they said she is most likely with your son.”
Marian placed her hand on her husband’s shoulder and he glanced up at her, forcing a smile.
“I’m sorry,” he said to us. “We didn’t know.”
“No one did,” Lauren said. “It’s not your fault nor the Corzines. But you can understand our anxiety in wanting to find her.”
They both nodded.
“The Corzines told us that Elizabeth and Bryce were dating,” Lauren said. “Is that your understanding?”
Ponder hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. And we don’t approve.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because she’s younger than he is,” he said. “And because she seems like a nice girl. Bryce…has some issues.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Issues?”
“Bryce is a screw-up,” he said, looking down at his lap.
“Ed,” Marian said. “No.”
He sighed and shrugged. “Maybe screw-up is harsh. But we’re at wit’s end with him. He barely finished high school, he can’t hold a job and he keeps doing stupid things.”
“Were you aware that he’s gone?” Lauren asked. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but…”
“I know what you mean,” Ed Ponder said. “And you don’t sound rude. Yes, we know he’s gone. He lives here because he has no income. The Corzines came to us when they realized they were gone. So, yeah, we know.”
“Have you done anything about it?” I asked.
Tension pushed his shoulders up. “No.”
“Why not?”
He reached up and covered his wife’s hand, still resting on his shoulder, with his own. “He’s been in some trouble.”
I shifted on the couch. “What kind of trouble?”
“Minor stuff,” he said. “Some shoplifting. Vandalism. Stupid stuff. But it’s all added up. He’s on probation for another six months.”
“He’s never hurt anyone,” Marian added quickly. “It’s not like that.”
Ed Ponder’s mouth set itself in a firm line. “No, he hasn’t hurt anyone. Except himself.”
Marian looked away.
“So, you didn’t call the police because you didn’t want more trouble for him,” I said.
Ponder nodded. “Yeah. I honestly thought her parents…” He caught himself. “I thought they would call them. We asked them not to and they weren’t happy about that. So, I figured they would. But now it seems obvious why they haven’t.”
I was actually relieved that they hadn’t called the police. It allowed me to still make the decision about what to do. It felt like so long since I’d had any say in my daughter’s life and just having the opportunity to exert some influence made me feel like a quasi-parent again.
“Any idea where they went?” I asked.
“None,” he said, shaking his head. “He doesn’t have a ton of friends. He doesn’t do much except watch TV and spend time with the girl. Since he went on probation, he’s been home at nights. He doesn’t do much.”
“I went through his room,” Marian said. “I looked through everything. I looked in his email and on his computer. I couldn’t find anything.”
They were more worried about their son than they were letting on if they’d done all that. They just seemed like parents who were frustrated with their son’s behavior and didn’t know how to change it.
“Does he have a bank account?” I asked. “A cell phone?”
“He doesn’t have a phone,” Ed said. “We took it away. He’s allowed to borrow ours if he needs one, but he doesn’t have one that we know about.”
“What about the bank account?”
“He has one,” he said, slowly. “We deposit a little money into it each month. I’m not sure why. I think we convinced ourselves it might encourage him to get his own money to put into it.” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Do you have access to it?”
He looked up at his wife. “Marian?”
“Yes, I can access it,” she said.
“Could you do that?” I asked. “Right now?”