View to a Crime

by Winnie Reed

  “Now that you mention it, an officer up in Paradise City is looking into the 911 call I placed. He’s supposed to have requested the security footage from the building, in fact.” Did I deliberately leave out the part where it was Pete orchestrating this for me? Maybe I did. Ethan was already smarting over our whole situation, whatever our situation was. The entire thing was confusing enough when I wasn’t constantly distracted by outside forces. I didn’t have the emotional energy to sort things out right then.

  “Oh, that’s good at least. You would think they want to look a little deeper into a 911 call.”

  “There are too many crank calls, I think. Or people calling for stupid reasons, like their neighbor is playing music too loud.” I rolled my eyes, and he snickered knowingly. “I’m sure they have to use their own discretion when it comes to how deep they can look into certain things. If they got to the building and everything looked okay, that was that. Not that I’m defending them, if that’s what happened.”

  “Maybe the police should see the pictures you took. Maybe they’ll see something you’re missing.”

  I withheld comment on that one, since I couldn’t imagine what even the most highly experienced detective would see that I hadn’t already seen. “I just want this over with. And I want to know what happened to Jane. I want somebody to care.”

  That was it. The problem at the root of all my emotion, all my frustration. The fact that nobody seemed to care about a girl who’d disappeared, stepped right out of her life and her job. It didn’t seem to matter. Nobody cared.

  When he spoke, his voice was softer than before. It brought to mind that night, right here in my apartment, when he had knocked my world off its axis by kissing me.

  “Not everybody cares as deeply as you do, and that’s a shame. I wish there was a way to change that.”

  I sniffled, fighting back tears. “Me, too.”

  We sat there for a while, shoulder to shoulder, looking at each other. That was all we did. We breathed the same air, not saying a word. Somehow, that was enough. It was enough to know he saw me, understood what I was going through.

  Suddenly, he winced. “Sorry. Not trying to make you feel bad, but my nose…” I realized with a pang of guilt that it was starting to turn purplish.

  “Keep up with the ice. It will help. And I am sorry.” I stood up when he did, following him to the door.

  “I might have to come up with a way for you to pay me back.” In spite of his obvious discomfort, there was a rare twinkle in his eye as he turned on the landing outside.

  “Oh, really? What you have in mind?” I dipped my chin, looking up at him. “Don’t tell me you’re going to put me to work in your kitchen.”

  He snapped his fingers, clicking his tongue. “Darn it. You read my mind.” He was chuckling as he jogged down the stairs running along the side of the house, my private entrance.

  At least he didn’t hate me for hurting him, or for laughing when I really shouldn’t have. How was I supposed to know he took the kiss so seriously when he had never said another word about it? Here I was, assuming he regretted it, while the whole time he was worried that I took it the wrong way.

  The man needed help with his communication skills.

  Windchimes tinkled somewhere nearby as a breeze blew through, and even though it was warm and humid I shivered, rubbing my arms before closing the door and locking it tight.

  Just because Ethan Crosby hadn’t been an attacker didn’t mean there weren’t bad people around.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I decided to do a little social media scrolling after Ethan’s departure. It would’ve been pointless, trying to get to sleep after our encounter. My nerves were still jangling—even though he hadn’t been a threat, I couldn’t let go of the sickening panic that had washed over and through me when those footfalls rang out.

  I barked out a laugh when I noticed the many, many ads for baby clothes and furniture in my feed. “Nope, nobody’s listening in on our conversations and using them to sell us things. Not even a little.”

  A glance at Lola told me she was as disgusted by the whole thing as I was. She buried her face under her paws.

  “I agree.”

  When had I searched for anything baby-related? Not once so far. Still, the sight of little pink dresses and blue suits—though trite and cliché—made me smile. I’d been meaning to do a little shopping for the baby, figuring it would be easier on my bank account and my heart if a whole ton of money didn’t vanish at once. A few things here and there would be smarter.

  It was like she heard me. My sister’s name popped up on the screen. She was trying to call me. I hadn’t signed out of my Zoom account, it seemed.

  I answered and pulled Lola up next to me, so Emma could see. “Hi! Wave hi!” I held up Lola’s paw like she was waving.

  Emma’s reaction wasn’t what I expected. She sort of frowned, head tipping to the side. “Where’ve you been? You’re logged into your account, but you never answer my calls.” She squinted, leaning closer to the camera. “How come all I see is a yellow… something? Where are you?”

  I winced. The sticky note. “Right, right, sorry.” I pulled it away, revealing myself and the dog to the camera. “Better?”

  “Eh. I’ve seen worse, I guess.” She winked, grinning. Then, her face transformed into something joyful. “There’s my girl! You don’t know how much I miss you, sweetheart.”

  “She misses you, too.” Was that true? How would I know? “So do I.” That was the truth.

  “I miss you, too. How’ve you been? Like I said, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all week. What’s up?”

  “I’ve been busy.” Not a lie, not even a little bit. “And you know I don’t do a lot of video chatting, anyway.”

  “But you’re logged into your account, aren’t you?”

  I let my head fall back, groaning. “Why do you always do this?”

  “What am I doing?”

  I looked at the screen again and found her wearing the expression I expected. Wide-eyed, innocent, she even had the nerve to leave her mouth hanging open like she couldn’t quite understand. “Don’t do that. Don’t play the innocent game. Mom invented and perfected it over years of using it against us.”

  “I’m curious.”

  “You’re insatiable. Is there not enough to keep you occupied in Pittsburgh?”

  I expected her to laugh, or to at least roll her eyes. Instead, she pulled her laptop closer, until she was practically sitting on top of it. I could almost see the pores of her chin. “Sharon and Ted went to have drinks at a friend’s house, but they’ll be back any time. It’s like they’re afraid to leave me alone in case I break. Joe had to talk them into leaving, even for an hour. Anything to give me a little bit of peace.”

  “Where’s Joe?”

  “I sent him to the all-night store for ice cream. I’d cut somebody for a pint of mocha chip right now.”

  “So why are you whispering if you’re alone?”

  “I don’t know.” She ran a hand over her face, groaning. “I feel like a zoo exhibit. Maybe it’s making me paranoid. I can’t wait to get home. Who thought spending ten days here would be a great idea?”

  “Your husband.” I laughed gently, sympathetic. “Hey, look at it this way. You get to see your entire family every day, if you want to. And it’s not like Joe hasn’t had plenty to deal with from Mom, with her gossip and everything. Half the town assumed you two were together ages before you were.”

  “That’s true. But he wasn’t trapped in a house with her for days on end. And Mom never felt like she had to make up for criticizing the mother of her gestating grandchild for gaining weight.”

  “Also true. I’m sorry she’s making things uncomfortable for you. Only a couple more days.”

  “That’s what I keep telling myself.” Her eyes narrowed. “So fess up. What’s really going on with you? And don’t hand me any funny business about being busy, since you’re always busy but you never look as worn
-out as you do right now.”

  “Careful with the compliments, or they might go to my head. Maybe I’ll sign up for a beauty pageant.”

  She didn’t laugh or even roll her eyes, which meant she was serious and wouldn’t let me talk my way out of anything. “Any time you feel like giving me a straight answer, I’m here.”

  I was about to fess up, to pour my heart out, when a ringing noise came from the app.

  From Jane’s account. Again. Inviting me to leave the call with my sister and join her—rather, him—instead.

  “Darce? What is it?” There was an edge to Emma’s voice now. “What’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost. I’m seriously getting scared for you.”

  Reality rapped against my skull, bringing me back to the present moment. “Don’t be scared, okay? I’m fine. I don’t want you getting upset for no reason.”

  “You should make a recording of yourself speaking those words. It’d save you the effort of repeating yourself over and over.”

  “Hush.” I waited to see what the other user would do. Finally, the ringing stopped when they gave up trying to reach me. I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a long, heavy sigh. “It’s been a long few days.”

  “Long enough that you’re terrified by somebody trying to chat with you? Don’t even pretend I’m overreacting, either. Your face went as white as a sheet and I could hear it ringing on your end. What’s really going on?”

  “I’ve been getting some weird messages. That’s all.” Would she buy it? I decided to add an extra layer of believability. “All these people, obsessed with Cassie’s story. I almost wish Trixie had never written about it.”

  Emma blinked slowly, staring straight into the camera. I waited, gritting my teeth.

  “You’re lying.” She leaned back, wearing a triumphant expression. “Which only makes me more determined to know what you’re hiding. You might as well come out and tell me. I won’t get off your back until you do.”

  “I witnessed an attack.” Well, there it was, tumbling from my lips without my meaning it to. “Here on the computer, while chatting with a reporter in Paradise City. She wanted to interview me for an article. Somebody attacked her at her desk while I was there, on the call. And they keep calling me whenever I’m on here. They’re playing games with me. That’s why I stuck a post-it to the camera, in case they could… I don’t know. Somehow gain access to it and see me.”

  I slumped in my chair. The relief was real, deep, though not complete. Because I’d eased my anxiety by dumping everything on my sister’s shoulders. “I shouldn’t have told you.”

  “I’m a grown person, you know.” She tented her fingers under her chin, pensive. “I can handle tough stuff no matter how many other people I’m growing. You don’t have to protect everybody all the time.”

  “I know, I know. I’m your big sister, though. It’s my job to protect you.”

  “Only it isn’t. You’re allowed to need help. And it sounds like you do right now.”

  “I don’t think whoever it is knows where I live. That’s something I’m clinging to.”

  “But they know you witnessed the attack.”

  “Yes.”

  “And they’re screwing with you. Playing games, trying to contact you.”

  “Right.”

  “Trying to scare you into staying quiet, in other words.”

  “That’s how it seems, though they don’t have to work half as hard. I’ve been trying to hide from them, not stick my nose in.”

  “You’re sure about that?” She narrowed her eyes. “You mean to tell me you’re not even the slightest bit interested in who attacked that girl and why they did it?”

  “Obviously, I’m curious. I even dug into some of Jane’s old articles, trying to figure out who might hold a grudge against her based on what she’s recently published.”

  “What makes you think you’ll be able to find anything in her old articles?”

  “I don’t know. It seemed better than not doing anything. Sitting here, losing my sanity, wondering if I imagined the entire thing.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Because there was nothing about the attack in the news. Nothing about a reporter found injured. Nothing at all. And nobody at the paper seems to care about her going MIA. I can’t figure it out.”

  “You’re sure she was a reporter for the paper?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. Like I said, she has a bunch of old articles which I’ve been combing through, and I’ve already been to the paper to ask after her. Her photo is part of her bio on the paper’s website. The girl I spoke to wasn’t an imposter.”

  “Okay, I’m checking, that’s all. Trying to go through all the possibilities.” She tapped her fingers someplace close to her speaker, making the sound ring out on my end. “We’re making an assumption, still. What if she wasn’t found at work?”

  “What?”

  “What if she left the building somehow? What if the attacker hurt her badly enough to knock her out, but she got up and left? And somebody found her outside? She might’ve passed out or acted funny. Somebody might’ve called the cops on her, assuming she was on something. She could be in a psych unit as we speak. There are so many possibilities.”

  My fingers did a tap dance routine of their own as I considered this. “You could be right. All this time, I didn’t want Pete to look into it for fear of rousing suspicion. I called the Paradise City PD and told them to go find her. What if there was nobody there? They could’ve brushed the whole thing off as a prank call, which I already assumed they did, but at least they’d have a reason to dismiss it if they never found Jane or her attacker.”

  “You have Pete involved in this?”

  I shook my head when I recognized the teasing note in her voice. “This isn’t the time. I had to tell somebody. I was freaking out.”

  “I’m glad he was there for you.” She was still fighting back a smile, but at least she was trying. I decided to give her credit for that and let it go. “You know, I could have Joe call over there. He hasn’t been out of Paradise City for too long. I could have him make up an excuse about me trying to reach a friend out there and being concerned because I can’t reach her.”

  “That sounds like a made-up story if I ever heard one.”

  “You let me know if you come up with anything better, then.”

  I blew out an exasperated sigh. “We already tried that at the paper and it got us nowhere.”

  “We? Us?”

  “Shush, already. Pete said he’d ask a mutual contact he shares with Joe if they could request the security footage from that night.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Sure, but it’s not enough.”

  “Don’t blame yourself. You made the call to the cops to tip them off. You did everything you could. Don’t forget, either. We’re speculating. These are theories. They don’t have to be true. There could be another explanation.”

  “Such as?” I counted off on my fingers. “I can’t reach her. Somebody else is using her laptop. The newspaper doesn’t know where she is. The switchboard operator made it sound like Jane doesn’t work there anymore, that she was a no-call, no-show all week. Granted, nobody around there gave much thought to what she did—that’s how she made it sound, anyway. There’s been nothing about her attack in the news.”

  Another idea hit me. “What if she’s hiding, too? Just like I am.”

  “That makes sense, too. I don’t think I’d want to return to the scene of the crime. It had to be traumatic as anything. She might not want people to know it happened.”

  “But why?” It was a rhetorical question, of course. I didn’t expect Emma to come up with an answer.

  Instead, she asked another question. “Did she say anything to her attacker?”

  “She asked what they were doing there. And they said she asked too many questions.”

  Her eyes bulged. “No wonder she’s scared to go back! It has something to do with her
work!”

  “Obviously. I knew that already. Why do you think I’ve been going through her work to find anything that might’ve rubbed somebody the wrong way?”

  “Sure, sure, but you’re missing the bigger point. She might be perfectly healthy and alive, but hiding from the guy who attacked her. Making sure he doesn’t know where to find her.”

  I had the feeling she was only saying this to make me feel better. So I wouldn’t blame myself. I appreciated it, but it didn’t make me feel much better. I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “We’re running around in circles and not getting anywhere. All this is doing is stressing you out more than you already are this week.”

  She was about to tell me off—there were few things in life I was more familiar with than the look on my sister’s face when she was on the verge of giving me a piece of her mind—when Joe’s voice rang out elsewhere in the house.

  “Em? I bought mocha chip and chocolate peanut butter, in case you changed your mind and wanted that instead.”

  It made me smile, knowing how thoughtful he was toward her. How much he cared. “He’s going to be a great dad, you know.”

  “You think?”

  “Being married to you is great practice, I guess. You need a lot of looking after.”

  “I should’ve known you’d find a way to tease me.” She leaned close again, and this time I got a wonderful view of the inside of her nose. “Be careful, okay? Don’t go sniffing around by yourself. Ask Pete for help if you can. I hate that I’m not there.”

  “I’ll be okay. Ask Joe if he can make that phone call and get back to me when he does.” I was about to sign off, but gave it a second thought. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” She sounded surprised. “Where’d that come from?”

  I couldn’t help but think about Jane’s attack. Alone in a darkened office with nobody to help. “You never know whether you’ll get another chance to say it.”