‘Hey, I’m Genevieve,’ she said, with a sweet smile. She wore her hair pulled back, and silver bracelets jangled on her forearm. ‘How can I help you?’
Maggie smiled back. ‘I’m looking for my daughter, Anna Desroches. Did you know her?’
‘Yes, but not well. You’re her mom?’
‘Yes.’ Maggie realized that until this very moment, she hadn’t met another student who knew Anna, the real Anna. She didn’t want to get emotional now, so she suppressed the thought.
‘I heard she went to live home with you, didn’t she?’
‘Yes, she did, but to make a long story short, she’s gone missing.’
‘Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.’ Genevieve frowned. ‘She’s a nice girl.’
‘Thank you,’ Maggie said, touched. ‘This is going to sound strange, but did you happen to know a student who looked like her? A lot like her?’
‘No.’
‘We’re also trying to find somebody who knew her friends Jamie Covington, PG, and Connie.’
‘I knew Jamie. She left school last year.’
‘Right. Have you heard from her since then?’
‘No, but we weren’t that friendly.’
‘Do you know a PG or Connie?’
‘No, what’s their last names?’
‘We don’t know.’
‘Were they seniors?’
‘We don’t know.’ Maggie had an idea. ‘Do you happen to have a yearbook?’
‘Sure, come with me.’
Chapter Seventy-one
Noah, After
‘I didn’t let anybody die.’ Noah rose, and two COs flanked Drover and lifted him bodily off the bench.
‘Let’s go, Mr Drover.’ The COs hustled Drover from the cafeteria, and a third CO walked around the table to Noah and motioned him upward.
‘Dr Alderman, come on. Leave the tray.’ The CO motioned Noah up, and he went without complaint. He’d be safer in a cell anyway.
‘Can I go back to my cell?’
‘No. They’re still working on it.’
Noah swallowed hard. They’d told him last night that his cell would have to be examined and photographed for evidence, since it had become a crime scene.
The CO led him toward the cafeteria exit. ‘This way.’
‘So where am I going?’
‘Block time. You don’t have a job yet.’
Noah flashed back on his old life, when he’d travel for a conference but his hotel room wouldn’t be ready. He used to be so annoyed, back then. He’d make a fuss at the reception desk. He couldn’t believe that it had taken prison to make him realize that he’d been a bit of a jerk.
The CO led him to the left, down an empty hallway. Drover and the other COs were nowhere in sight.
‘So John Drover knows Jeremy Black?’
‘Yes.’ The CO faced front, walking beside him.
‘Are they in the same gang or something?’
‘You doing a documentary?’
Noah let it go. ‘Which cellblock is Drover in?’
‘C,’ the CO answered.
‘But I’m in C.’
‘Oops,’ the CO said, walking.
Chapter Seventy-two
Maggie, After
Maggie, Kathy, and Caleb knocked on the door to Steingard House, which had a small window of frosted glass. A light was on inside, which cheered Maggie, who was trying to stay positive. They had searched the Congreve yearbooks and hadn’t seen any Connies or PGs, though there had been photos of Jamie, and more importantly, of Anna. Maggie had taken pictures of Anna’s photos with her phone, and it had helped her explain what was going on to Caleb.
‘Here comes somebody.’ Maggie straightened up as a shadowy figure grew closer on the other side of the frosted glass, and the door was answered by a tall, slim student who had her blond hair piled in a twist. She had a long face, prominent cheekbones, and wore an oversized Harvard sweatshirt with black leggings and black Dr Martens.
‘Hello, can I help you? I’m Mercer Cooperman, one of the editors on The Zephyr.’
‘Yes, thanks.’ Maggie introduced herself, Caleb, and Kathy. ‘I’m Anna Desroches’s mother, and she was a student here until last year. I’m afraid she’s gone missing. We’ve spoken with Morris Whitaker, and they’re dealing with the police, but we want to ask a few questions too, on our own.’
Kathy interjected, ‘It’s a mom thing.’
‘I get it. My mom would too. Come on in. I’ve just put the Winter Issue to bed. It was supposed to be published before Thanksgiving, but poets don’t follow deadlines.’ Mercer opened the door, admitting them to a funky entrance hall with a pair of lime-green-velvet armchairs, next to a wood coffee table piled with books.
‘Thanks so much. Are you a senior, Mercer? Did you know Anna?’
Mercer shut the door. ‘Yes, I met her once or twice. I’m so sorry she’s gone missing.’
‘You met her?’ Maggie asked, encouraged. ‘Here or at Parker? Or in classes?’
‘I think I had French Lit with her, but mostly, she’d stop by the office with Jamie Covington.’
‘Yes, they were friends.’ Maggie felt like they were onto something. ‘Did you know Jamie?’
‘Not well, she was kind of a loner. Is she coming back to school?’
‘I don’t know. Do you know where she went?’
‘No, I just heard she dropped out of school.’ Mercer puckered her lower lip. ‘She was so talented.’
‘Do you know PG or Connie, who were friends of Jamie’s and Anna’s?’
‘Hmm, not Connie, but PG sounds familiar.’ Mercer frowned in thought. ‘Oh wait, I remember PG. She was a friend of Jamie’s. She called herself PG for Ponygirl, after Ponyboy.’
‘Who’s Ponyboy?’
‘Ponyboy from The Outsiders? The novel? We read it in middle school.’
Kathy interjected, ‘I know that book. My sons read it in Language Arts. Ponyboy is the hero. He’s the poor kid in the town, one of the Greasers, and the rich kids are called the Socs.’
Caleb looked up. ‘ “Stay gold, Ponyboy.” ’
‘Right!’ Mercer grinned down at him. ‘That’s from the book.’
‘Good for you, honey.’ Maggie hugged Caleb to her side. ‘Mercer, are you saying you remember PG? Did you meet her?’
‘No, she didn’t go here, but I remember Jamie talking about her because of the Ponygirl story.’
‘Do you know where PG is? Where did she go to school?’
‘I assume she went to public school, Congreve High. She was a waitress at Eddie’s. I think that’s where Jamie met her. Jamie liked to eat there to get off campus, but it’s bad food. Everything’s fried.’
‘Is Eddie’s in town?’ Maggie felt her heart start to pound.
‘No, it’s in Tipton, one town north. It’s Eddie’s Diner, like a truck stop but nicer.’
‘How long does it take to get there?’
‘Twenty minutes in nice weather, but in this snow, an hour. Mainers will tell you a place is “just down the road.” But that means, like, hours.’
‘We’d better go. Thank you so much.’ Maggie reached for the doorknob. ‘You’ve been so helpful.’
‘Yes, thanks,’ Kathy said, right behind her.
‘We got a break!’ Maggie started the engine, excited.
‘We sure did!’ Kathy rubbed her hands together.
‘Stay gold,’ Caleb said again. ‘She was nice. And pretty.’
‘Yes she was.’ Maggie pulled away from Steingard House and steered to the exit gate. The campus seemed completely deserted, and nobody was around snowplowing or shoveling at this hour. They drove past the Administration Rotunda, now darkened. ‘I wonder if Whitaker even called Chief Vogel.’
‘Me, too.’
‘Only one way to find out. Would you mind looking up the number of the Congreve Police Department for me, and I’ll call?’
‘Not at all.’ Kathy retrieved Maggie’s phone, scrolled to the Internet, and found the number
. ‘Here.’
‘Thanks.’ Maggie accepted the phone and pressed Call. The call rang and rang, then was answered.
‘Congreve Police,’ a woman said. ‘How may I assist you?’
‘Hi, I’m Maggie Ippoliti and I’m the mother of a girl named Anna Desroches, a seventeen-year-old student at the Congreve School who went missing last April. I believe that Chief Vogel has been in touch with Morris Whitaker about it today. May I speak with Chief Vogel? It’s important.’
‘He’s out right now. I’m just taking the phones on account of the storm. I’m not a patrol officer.’
‘Does he have a deputy or someone I can speak to?’
‘He’s out too, sorry. They all are. There’s only three patrol officers, and one part-timer we share.’
‘May I have Chief Vogel’s cell-phone number?’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t have that information. You can look him up if you want to. He’s in the book.’
Maggie looked over to see Kathy already scrolling through her phone for Chief Vogel’s home number. ‘Do you happen to know if he filed a missing persons report for my daughter with the town or the state police?’
‘I don’t know about a report, ma’am. Like I say, I’m just picking up phones. We’re stretched pretty thin.’
‘Okay, will you give him a message that I called?’ Maggie drove through the snowy streets of Congreve.
‘Certainly. What did you say your name was again?’
Maggie repeated her name, spelled her last name, then said, ‘Can you tell Chief Vogel that he can call me on my cell anytime, no matter how late? I’m staying at the Congreve Inn and heading out to Eddie’s Diner in Tipton. There’s a waitress there named PG who may know something about Anna’s disappearance.’
‘Oh, Eddie’s?’ The woman perked up. ‘That’s real good food. Try the flounder. It’s double batter-dipped.’
‘Thank you, bye now.’ Maggie hung up and handed Kathy back the phone. ‘In the meantime, will you do me another favor? Look up the FBI in Bangor and let’s give them a call.’
‘You’re on fire.’ Kathy took the phone, scrolled through, then pressed Call and handed the phone back to Maggie. ‘While you were on with the Congreve police, I Google-mapped driving directions to Eddie’s. I’ll set my phone here so you can see. It’s a straight shot north.’
‘Thanks.’ Maggie held the phone, listening to it ring. She slowed behind a snowplow as they passed the Congreve Inn. She didn’t want to think about the night she had taken the imposter there, with the canopy, the room service, and the Top Gun tears. Maggie had bought the whole thing.
‘I also checked Yelp. Eddie’s gets five stars, and they say it has great showers. I like a restaurant with a good shower.’
‘Me, too. I order the soap on the side.’
‘It must be a trucker thing.’
Maggie heard a click, and the phone was answered. ‘Hello?’
‘Special Agent Tony Delgado here. To whom am I speaking?’
‘Hi, my name is Maggie Ippoliti and I’m the mother of a seventeen-year-old, Anna Desroches, who went missing from Congreve School last April. I wonder if you can help me.’
‘Ms Ippoliti, it’s after business hours, and I’m on desk duty. This sounds like a matter for the local police, not the FBI.’
Maggie didn’t know the FBI kept business hours, but whatever. ‘They’ve already been contacted, but I think the FBI should get involved, too. There are two other girls who have gone missing, Jamie Covington from Congreve and Samantha Silas from Ardmore, Pennsylvania.’
‘Covington? I remember hearing about that case. That wasn’t a missing persons case. My recollection is she was a runaway.’
‘Maybe that’s what people were saying about it earlier, but I have new information that suggests that it wasn’t.’ Maggie drove behind the snowplow. ‘Jamie Covington was a friend of my daughter’s, and they were also friends with another girl named PG, who waitresses at Eddie’s Diner in Tipton.’
‘Your daughter went missing in April?’
‘Yes, but we just found out about it, and I want to find her.’
‘I can have my supervisor call you during business hours tomorrow.’
‘But do I have to wait until then? Can’t you help me? I’m driving to Tipton to speak with PG.’
‘You’re headed to Tipton now? That’s treacherous weather up north, Ms Ippoliti. You shouldn’t be on the road.’
‘Special Agent Delgado, forgive me if I’m concerned enough to drive around tonight. I’d do that for my cat, for God’s sake.’ Maggie looked in the rearview to see Caleb giving her the thumbs-up.
‘The Governor is about to declare a snow emergency.’
‘He hasn’t yet.’ Maggie accelerated when the snowplow turned off the road and she drove straight onto a single-lane highway leading out of town, mounded with snow on either side.
‘Ms Ippoliti, you’re not going to do your daughter any good if you get into a car accident, or cause one. I’ll have my supervisor call you.’
‘Please do, as soon as possible, at this number. It doesn’t matter how late it is.’
‘Will do, Ms Ippoliti. But please get off the road and leave the policework to the professionals.’
‘It’s not policework, Special Agent Delgado.’ Maggie steered into the storm. ‘It’s what any mother would do.’
Chapter Seventy-three
Noah, After
Noah was released into Cellblock C, where inmates were talking or playing cards at tables with checkerboard tops and stainless-steel stools affixed to the concrete floor. An old TV was mounted underneath the first tier of the cells, playing on mute, and inmates were watching on closed captioning or with old earphones. Another line of inmates stood at two phones, waiting to make calls. There were more COs than Noah would have expected, and he looked up to see COs and officials clustered in front of his cell on the second tier.
Noah scanned the inmates for Drover, but he was nowhere in sight. Drover could have been in his cell, since inmates were permitted to stay in their cells during block time. After last night, Noah couldn’t believe that prison officials would leave both him and Drover in the same cellblock, but changing cells in prison was an administrative problem like any other, and it took time.
Noah spotted Peach and walked toward him, looking around. He didn’t think any trouble would break out when there were so many officials on the second tier, but still. He reached Peach, and they shook hands. ‘You okay? They didn’t write you up?’
‘No.’ Peach half-smiled. ‘I owe you, Dr Kildare.’
‘Not a problem.’
‘What’d you do with it?’
‘Dropped it in the hallway outside. They’ll find it sooner or later, but they can’t link it to C.’ Noah glanced over his shoulder. ‘Where’s John Drover’s cell?’
Peach hesitated. ‘205. Top tier, catty-corner to us on the other side. Don’t look now.’
‘Is he there now?’
‘No. He didn’t come back yet.’
Noah wondered if they had already changed Drover’s cell assignment. ‘Tell me about him.’
‘He runs a gang from Coatesville. It doesn’t matter where he is, anyway. He’s got people.’
‘Why does he think I let Jeremy die?’
‘Because he ended up dead. They get each other’s back.’ Peach pursed his thin lips. ‘Jeremy was in the RHU more than he was out of it. Kid was so damn young. Mouthy, disrespectful, always in fights, and the last one, he pissed off the wrong guy. Drover got the first-aid kit to you for backup.’
‘Who killed Jeremy?’
Peach frowned. ‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘Yes you can.’ Noah needed to know as much as possible to protect himself. He didn’t have a weapon, and information was the next-best thing. ‘Tell me. Or I’ll tell them about the needle.’
‘You’re learning the ropes.’ Peach smiled, admiring. ‘Jimmy Williams.’
‘Is Williams on C too?’
<
br /> ‘Yeah, 207.’ Peach glanced behind him. ‘Dr Kildare, you got trouble. Drover’s going to blame you no matter what.’
‘So what do I do?’
‘Watch your back. You’re on your own. They’ll split us up.’
‘Right.’ Noah could see that Peach wasn’t unhappy about that, which made sense. If Noah was a target, his cellmate would be collateral damage.
‘Think I can get them to move me to a different cellblock?’ Noah had been running possibilities in the back of his mind.
‘It won’t make a difference. Drover’s guys can get you anywhere.’
‘Not anywhere,’ Noah said, looking around for a CO.
Chapter Seventy-four
Maggie, After
Maggie, Kathy, and Caleb stepped inside Eddie’s Diner, looking around. The room was an empty square with a drop ceiling and harsh fluorescent lighting, and in the front half was a cluttered store selling trucking supplies, lights and lenses, reflectors, headphones, air fresheners, tools, and hardware next to a cash register packed with cigarettes, chewing tobacco, gum, candy, and Tristate Megabucks Maine Powerball tickets. The air smelled like dry heat and stale cigarettes, and black-and-white photos of tractor-trailers lined the walls, interspersed with handmade signs: Whoopie Pie Our Specialty and Brake for Moose, It Could Save Your Life.
Kathy looked askance at the moose sign. ‘Does that really need to be said? What’s the alternative? See a moose and hit the gas?’
Caleb laughed, and Maggie hugged him to her side. ‘You hungry, honey?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good, the restaurant’s in the back.’ Maggie led them past a fuel desk toward the back half of the store, which contained long wooden tables with wooden chairs and benches, in picnic-style seating. Color enlargements of a rocky seacoast, a lighthouse, and a wide river hung on the walls, and there were a few booths along the back wall next to the kitchen. The restaurant was empty except for a family with three young children, digging into pancakes and eggs.
Kathy said, ‘I love breakfast for dinner. How about you, Caleb?’
‘I do too. I like pancakes.’
‘I don’t see a waitress.’ Maggie looked around, hopeful. She knew the odds weren’t good that PG would be working tonight, but they could get lucky.
After Anna Page 31
