by Kate Anders
“Thank you for that. I just don’t know where to go from here.”
“Keep talking to people, don’t give up,” he says.
“I won’t,” I vow to myself.
“You have my number if you need anything else,” he says. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to give you more information.”
It’s funny how two conversations with basically the same end result can leave you with completely different feelings. The campus cop left me feeling enraged and like he didn’t care what happened to Clara. Sgt Cooper, on the other hand, was completely understanding, spoke with kindness, and even though he couldn’t do anything else, he left me feeling seen. I admit that the more time that passes, I am starting to feel like I am going crazy. Maybe this is all paranoia. But now, I feel less crazy and more validated.
Even with that, though, I still feel like I am left here doing nothing. I am just supposed to go on with my life like nothing ever happened. Go to classes every day, and just keep casually asking people, Hey has anyone heard from Clara? Because that seems like insanity, and I don’t think I can do that. I’m not sure there are many other options though.
A few hours later, and one sad attempt to get some schoolwork done and distract myself from everything that has happened in the past day, I am left sitting on the couch in the living room staring off into space.
The one thing I can’t seem to let go of is this man. This “uncle.” Who is this guy? If you removed him from the equation, I might actually start to believe that Clara did this on her own. But that’s the one piece of the puzzle that just doesn’t fit in any way. In four years, I’m beyond certain that if Clara had some sort of family friend that she knew well enough to call an uncle, I’m sure I would have met him by now, or at the very least she would have mentioned him at least once. After her mom died, she finished high school living with the school guidance counselor because she had nowhere else to go. If she had an “uncle” why wouldn’t she have lived with him? It just doesn’t make any sense.
So he is where I have to start. I know it. If I can get more information about this guy, maybe it will actually give the police something to check out and we might actually have something to go off of and possibly find her.
What do I know about this mystery man? He went in person to the registrar’s office to drop off the form. So he interacted with at least one person. Sgt Cooper said the form did look like Clara filled it out, so at least in that regard, it doesn’t seem like this guy forged anything. He definitely, without a doubt, is not related to one of Clara’s parents. I know they were only children. The fact that he had a form signed by Clara and presented himself as her uncle tells me he knew her or at least knew of her. This isn’t like a grab and go off the street. If this is nefarious, he’s clearly covering his tracks, and honestly, it’s working.
My only option is to start poking holes in this theory that Clara woke up one morning and just decided it was time to leave. And I’m starting with the only outside player that literally no one knows anything about. The only thing I can think about is the only way I have any kind of chance of identifying this guy is to actually get a picture of him.
He went inside when he talked to the registrar, so with any luck there will be some kind of surveillance camera going on there, and he will have been caught on camera. If I could see him, maybe I would recognize him. Or at least have something to show other people.
It’s not like I can just walk into the registrar’s office though and be like, Do you have cameras and if so, can I please look at them? I need someone with authority to go and look at them. And as nice as Sgt Cooper was, he basically told me he doesn’t really have any cause, so I doubt he is going to ask for camera footage. No, I need someone else to do it.
I know exactly what needs to be done, but I’m already regretting it.
Collin’s dad is a police detective, and he knows me. He might actually be willing to go out on a limb for me and look more into this uncle guy. Unfortunately for me, when Collin and I broke up, I may have rage erased everything in my phone that pertained to him. So I don’t have his parents’ phone numbers in my phone anymore. Which leaves me with only one option. Collin. Luckily, I have his number memorized.
I’ve already called once with no answer. I call again with the same response. I don’t really consider what I am going to do if he decides not to answer the phone when I call him. Given that Chanel seems permanently attached to his hip, there is a good chance that he might not ever answer when I call. That means my only option would be hunting him down, which honestly is not something I would be excited about. I’m sure that confrontation would only end in drama and most likely a lot of yelling.
Just as I’m about to call him again, the phone starts ringing in my hand. I take a deep breath to steel myself for this shit show this conversation is sure to be.
“Hello,” I say, trying to sound confident.
“Kenz?” Collin asks. It’s quiet in the background so I get the impression that he is alone, I could be wrong.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“You shouldn’t be calling,” he says real quiet like. Almost like he doesn’t mean it.
“Do you really think I would be calling you if it wasn’t really important?” I ask.
“Don’t be like that, Kenz.”
“Be like what, Collin? Honest. After the past few months, can you blame me?”
There’s an awkward pause that passes between us. It’s weird to think that at one point we both thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, and now we are reduced to awkward pauses.
“No. I get it. I just wish it wasn’t like this between us,” he says quietly.
“I’m pretty sure that was a hundred percent your choice, Collin.”
“I know. I just… What’s going on? Everything okay?” he asks.
“I was hoping you had heard.”
“Heard what?”
“Clara went missing,” I tell him.
“What are you talking about? Clara’s missing? Like missing missing? When did this happen?”
“Yes, really, missing. A little over twenty-four hours ago, she was supposed to meet me for lunch, she even left me a voice mail saying she couldn’t make lunch but she wanted to talk that night. And then I get home and she’s gone—”
“Define gone.”
“Like everything she owns is gone. Like someone moved out everything that belonged to her in a few short hours.”
“Was anything else missing?” he asks.
“Nope, just stuff that was Clara’s, anything that was communal was left. Well, except for her furniture, that was left too,” I say. “And her locket.”
“Wait, Clara left her locket behind? She never takes that thing off.”
“I know.”
“That’s super weird.”
“Yeah. I went to the police but they say that she actually withdrew from school and basically that adults are allowed to disappear if they want.”
“Wow.” Collin lets out a big sigh. “Okay, so why are you calling me then? I haven’t heard anything.”
“I was actually hoping you would be willing to do me a favor,” I say, steeling myself for the possibility that I might have to persuade him.
“A favor? From me? I dunno, Kenz…”
“It’s not a big deal, Collin, and honestly, after the way you have treated me and allowed your girlfriend to treat me, I think you kind of owe me the world’s smallest favor,” I snap at him.
“I, uh, I… okay, what kind of favor?”
“I was hoping you could put me in contact with your dad,” I tell him.
“I dunno, Kenz. I don’t think I can. Chanel really hates how much my family still talks about you, and if she finds out that I helped get you and my dad together, she will lose her mind,” he says.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Clara is fucking missing, and you want me to be concerned with your little girlfriend’s fragile ego? Are you serious right now?” I demand.
/> “Kenz, come on, seriously. You already said you talked to the police, what exactly do you expect my dad to do, I mean, really? I’m not going to put myself on the line for something that doesn’t even mean anything,” he explains, the defensiveness in his tone is enough to make me scream.
“Oh really, Collin?” I seethe. “Not going to put yourself on the line? You know Clara, you were friends with Clara. She’s missing. And you can’t be bothered to maybe upset your girlfriend. Seriously? How many favors did Clara do for you? How many times did she grab you a coffee or make you a lunch, or did you just forget that her tutoring is the only reason you made it through math class?”
“It’s not that simple, Kenz. I have a reputation to protect now, and Chanel is important in that. If you really need to talk to my dad, I can’t be a part of it. But honestly, I would kind of appreciate it if you left my dad out of it, I have enough problems of my own going on right now.”
I’m seething. If this conversation were taking place in person, I think I would be well on my way to a night in jail. I can’t believe this guy, this guy I thought I was going to marry.
“I don’t even know you anymore, Collin. I’ve been telling myself for weeks that you’re still you, the nice guy I met freshmen year, the good guy. That you just made some rough choices, but that you really didn’t mean to hurt other people, that you didn’t mean to hurt me. But I was so wrong. All you care about is yourself. I don’t know what happened to you, or why you suddenly think that you’re God’s gift to the world, but I’m ashamed that I had anything to do with you.”
“Hey, come on, that’s not fair—”
“No, it’s exactly fair. And just to be clear, you are going to get me in touch with your dad. Because if you don’t, I have no problem sharing the emails you sent me for weeks after we were broken up and you were with Chanel. I wonder how much Chanel will enjoy seeing how you talked about her, and how you proclaimed over and over how much you still love me?” I threaten.
“You wouldn’t.” He sounds nervous. Good.
“Oh believe me, I would. There is nothing I won’t do to get Clara back, and if you have to suffer a little bit to make that happen, then so be it.”
I can hear him swallow hard on the other end of the line.
“I’ll text you his number,” he says. “I’ll let him know you’ll be in touch.” He pauses. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You didn’t think about me at all, Collin. I was never even a part of the equation,” I tell him before hanging up the phone.
Progress.
CHAPTER NINE
“DON’T GIVE UP ON ME” BY ANDY GRAMMER
After pacing my way through that phone call with Collin, and honestly trying not to scream at him, my whole body feels almost a sense of relief once it’s over. My shoulders drop down, releasing the tension I’ve been holding, and I’m finally able to take in a deep breath. As the air flows through my nose, the thing I notice the most is the smell. Clara loves wallflowers, we have them all over the apartment, and the scents of Christmas and winter are still going strong throughout the living room.
A smile slowly forms on my face as I remember our many trips to the mall whenever there was a good sale for new scents. I plop down on the couch, letting my back just fall back against the cushions. This next part shouldn’t be as hard. Collin and I clearly aren’t in a good place, the animosity is palpable between us. But Collin’s dad and I always got along great. Not getting to be a part of that family for the rest of my life is really true heartbreak that I still struggle with. I miss them.
It doesn’t take long for Collin to follow through with his promise for his dad’s phone number. I type out the message for Collin’s dad, the whole time thinking about how it’s possible he might not want to help me. Hell, he might not miss me. We weren’t family, not yet. And yes, we got along great, but there’s no telling how he is going to react to basically a cold call after a few months of radio silence.
Kenzie: Hi, Mr. Fitzpatrick, this is Kenzie. Collin was supposed to mention that I was going to get in touch.
Mr. Fitzpatrick: Kenzie! Collin said you are having some kind of problem
Kenzie: Yeah, it’s kind of complicated… Clara is missing and I’m not really getting anywhere with the police, and I was just hoping that you would be able to help me.
Mr. Fitzpatrick: Can you meet tonight?
Kenzie: Yes, absolutely, any time.
Mr. Fitzpatrick: Great. There’s a Starbucks right near the station, meet me there in 30?
Kenzie: See you there.
I need to leave as soon as possible if I am going to make it in time. Rushing to my room, I slip off my jeans and pull on some fleece-lined leggings. I love winter more than any other season, but the continuous shaking and goose bumps are getting old. I’m in the basic college girl studying outfit, leggings, some Uggs, and a hoodie. As long as I start getting somewhere with my mission, I don’t care if I am dressed identical to Chanel.
The cold metal against my skin stings as I pulled the door open to the Starbucks. Pausing in the entry so I can look around and see if Mr. Fitzpatrick is here yet, I am relieved to find that the place is mostly empty. I order my favorite salted caramel hot chocolate from the bored-looking barista at the front, then sit down in one of the booths to wait.
I can feel my stomach churning with nerves about how this meeting is going to go. I trust Mr. Fitzpatrick. He has always been so good to me. I have no reason to believe that is going to change just because things with me and his son didn’t work out. Reality, of course, being that this is my last real shot. Every other person in power has turned me down. Reluctantly I have to admit to myself that I get it. There isn’t much to go on. They have other real provable crimes to work on, and right now they have nothing actually saying Clara is missing. If I were them, would I be helping me? I don’t know the answer to that question.
I hear the bell ding and before I even have a chance to look up, I hear the familiar footsteps of heavy boots with quick steps. Walking with purpose, he used to tell me. I stood up to greet him, feeling awkward and nervous, pulling on my fingers as I look up at him.
He was always kind of a bear of a man. Taller than me at six feet, with a stocky build that I wouldn’t call athletic or fat. Perhaps the most identifiable feature he has is his hair, and it’s almost comforting to see that it hasn’t changed since the last time I saw him. Tonight he has his hair pulled back to the nape of his neck, normally he wears it slicked back, making the sandy blond start to appear more brown, but tonight it’s clearly blond. He looks tired with shadows under his eyes, but the smile he has for me puts me at ease.
“Hi, Mr. Fitzpatrick.” I feel my lips tilt upward in a small smile as I look up at him.
“Sweetheart,” he says as he moves forward and wraps his arms around me. I breathe in deep and smell his familiar leather-scented cologne. It’s comforting. “I think we can go with Joe from now on, don’t you?” He moves back and indicates for me to sit back down. Ever the gentleman waiting for me to sit before joining me in the booth.
“That’s gonna take some getting used to,” I tell him with a chuckle. I settle my hands around the cold plastic of my cup, not knowing really how to begin.
I feel the warmth of his hand on mine. “Tell me what happened.”
I spent the next few minutes going over all the events from the beginning. I don’t think I even paused to breathe. I just word vomited everything that happened starting from Sunday when we were talking about our plans for the week. Every mundane thing I could think of, I told him. The whole time he never broke eye contact with me, he kept his hand on mine, somehow keeping me grounded and focused. By the time I run out of steam, I feel exhausted, just emotionally wrung out.
“I’m sorry, Kenzie. I can’t imagine what it has been like for you these past few days.” Empathy radiated from him. I wonder how a man as kind as him could possibly have created someone who turned out to be so self
-centered. Even so, I feel a ‘but’ coming, “Why don’t you tell me what exactly you want from me?”
My first instinct is to say help. To find Clara. To actually do something when no one else would. But I knew that was asking for too much. It wasn’t realistic. So I went for the one tangible thing I could think of.
“The uncle.” I blurt it out and it feels so matter of fact as it leaves my mouth. “He’s my proof. Clara doesn’t have an uncle. Everyone is so willing to accept that this random older man, who no one has heard of or seen before, is the proof that Clara left on her own. No one saw her leave the apartment, she isn’t the one who showed up on campus, anyone can write an email. The only thing that even remotely points to this being a planned move is this so-called uncle. And I don’t buy it.”
He sits back into the booth and just looks at me. I can tell he is sizing me up. Trying to make a decision about something. The silence is starting to get to me and I feel like squirming in my seat under his examination, but I hold still. Waiting.
He releases a big sigh before breaking his examination of me.
“Kenzie, you know I love you like a daughter, hell I thought you were going to be my daughter. I want to help you, and you have done everything right. I understand why you are suspicious. I’ve met Clara more than a few times over the years and I think this doesn’t add up.” He chuckles. “Hell, out of the three of you, Clara was always the most responsible, the most focused, the one with the most clarity about where she was going and why. I can’t imagine her leaving the way you are describing. But from a police point of view, she took all the steps necessary to leave, to walk out of her life. Yeah, there are questions, and we have an alert out on her name, so maybe one day we will get the answers to those questions. But foul play doesn’t really seem to be there in this case.”
