“How old is she?”
“Nineteen.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Around seven o’clock last night, and she hasn’t returned my calls or her sister’s. Her father just died, and she believes he was murdered.”
Officer Mendina’s eyes flared. “She believes he was? Was it ruled a homicide or not?”
“No, it wasn’t, but she still believes it was.” Jill realized something. “Would you be the ones who investigated it, when the police were called? His name was William Skyler.”
“No, that’s Central Detectives, up on 21st Street. So you say she’s missing, but it’s only been one night. Does she usually stay out all night?”
“I don’t know, I don’t live with her. I’m a mom, so I worry.”
“I hear that.” Officer Mendina reached under the window and pulled out a form, revealing a black Glock holstered on one hip. On her other hip was a radio, its stiff antenna sticking up like a black spire. “Now what did you say your daughter’s name was? Also, I’ll need to see an ID.”
“She’s not my daughter.”
“I thought you said she was.”
“No, she’s my ex-stepdaughter.” Jill went into her purse, got her driver’s license, and slid it across the sill. “I used to be her stepmother, and both of her parents are dead.”
Officer Mendina examined the driver’s license. “Are you her legal guardian, Dr. Farrow?”
“No.”
“Then what exactly is your relationship to the girl, again?” Officer Mendina returned the driver’s license, but withheld the form.
“I’m her ex-stepmother. I was married to her father, who died last Tuesday.”
“Then you don’t have standing to file a missing persons. Sorry.” Officer Mendina put the form away.
“Does it matter who reports it? She’s hurt or missing, that’s all that matters.” Jill pulled a photo from her purse that she’d printed from William’s laptop before she left the house. It showed all of them together, down the Jersey shore. “Look, this is us, from when I was married to her father. The long-haired one is Abby.”
Officer Mendina scrutinized the photo. “Who’s this other girl, the tall one?”
“Her sister, Victoria. Can she file a report?”
“No, she can’t. You say the girl’s over eighteen, so she’s legally an adult, and it’s not against the law to want to be left alone. It’s only one night.”
“But can you check the house? She’s been so distraught since her father died, and drinking.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help you. Our manpower is limited, and we can’t go chasing down every nineteen-year-old who has a few beers.” Officer Mendina pursed her unlipsticked lips, and Jill saw empathy in her eyes.
“But she’s just been orphaned, and that’s hard at any age. Are you a mother? Can’t you just check on her?”
Officer Mendina paused. “Wait here. I’ll talk to my supervisor.”
“Thank you, I really appreciate it.” Jill watched her walk back to the office and disappear out of view, and she returned a few minutes later with a shortish, African-American police officer in a white shirt. He had wire-rimmed glasses and a serious expression, and he walked over to the window with Officer Mendina, then took the lead.
“I’m Sergeant Destin, and I’ll tell you what we can do for you. I’m going to send Officer Mendina and another officer of mine to do a walk-through of the house. Make sure everything’s okay.”
“Thank you so much,” Jill said, grateful.
“You can’t file a report, but we can make sure nothing’s going on inside. We can also talk to the neighbors, see if any of them saw her, and put your mind at ease. You say you don’t live with her, though?”
“No, I don’t.”
“You have keys? We don’t break in.”
Jill had assumed they would, unfortunately. “I don’t, but I can get you some. Gimme an hour.”
“Do it, and we’ll meet you there. What’s the number on Acorn?”
“382.”
“Okay.” Sergeant Destin checked his thick watch. “Wait for us at the house.”
“Thanks so much.” Jill turned, slid out her cell phone, and scrolled down for Victoria’s phone number as she hurried out of the police station. The call rang twice, then connected. “Victoria, it’s Jill.”
“Don’t tell me, let me guess. Abby’s over your house. Does she have her own bedroom yet?”
“She’s not with me.” Jill hurried toward her car, which was parked in front of the Vietnamese restaurant next door. “I need you to meet me at your father’s house, with the keys. The police are going to go inside and—”
“The police? What do they want?”
“They’re coming to the house to check it out and—”
“What are you doing? This is none of your business, Jill.”
“Victoria, please don’t give me a hard time. I’m worried that Abby is inside and may be hurt. Her car is there but she doesn’t answer.” Jill got her car key, then chirped the door open. “Just come with the keys. Please.”
“I can’t, I have to study.”
“It can’t be helped.” Jill climbed inside her front seat, keeping a lid on her temper. “I know you love your sister, so please come.”
“I don’t need you to tell me whether I love my sister or not. I have a life, Jill. I’m not my sister’s keeper.”
“Victoria, if you don’t come open the door, they’ll break it down.” Jill would tell a white lie, if it saved Abby’s life. “You have to come with the keys, as soon as possible.”
“Damn you! This is a total and complete waste of time.” Victoria hung up.
Jill pressed END, set the BlackBerry down, and slid the key into the ignition. The engine and dashboard clock came to life, glowing a digital 8:03. She had time, but she had to hustle.
She hit the gas, took a right onto Vine Street, then headed back toward Society Hill.
Chapter Twenty-two
Jill stood in front of William’s house waiting for Victoria, while Officer Mendina and a heavyset male cop were knocking on the neighbors’ doors, asking about Abby. The block was waking up, and young couples, groups of tourists, and runners eyed the police and their two cruisers, their presence causing a commotion. Suddenly a white BMW steered onto the street and drove toward them, and Jill spotted Victoria in the passenger seat. Her friend Brian was driving, and Jill hustled toward the car.
Victoria got out when the BMW slowed to a stop, double-parking to drop her off, and her lovely hazel eyes glittered as they surveyed the street. She must have dressed quickly, but still looked put together in a white sweater, skinny jeans, and ballet flats. Her makeup was perfect, and her blonde hair twisted into a tortoiseshell barrette.
“What the hell is going on, Jill?” she asked, angrily. “This is a circus.”
“I’m really sorry to take you from your studies.” Jill kept her tone even, still hoping to reconnect. “If you give your keys to the cops, they can do a walk-through—”
“Hell to the no.” Victoria turned away, hoisted her purse to her shoulder, and stalked off toward the police, and Jill fell into step beside her.
“Victoria, look, I’m sorry, but—”
“I told you, you can bulldoze your way into Abby’s life, but keep out of mine. Now, don’t speak to me.”
Jill took it on the chin, and they both walked to meet Officer Mendina, who was climbing down the steps of a rowhouse and slipping a long white pad into her back pocket. She strode toward them, frowning under the patent bill of her cap.
“Dr. Farrow,” Officer Mendina called out, with a wave. When she got closer, she said, “No one’s seen the girl this week, or seen anything else suspicious at the house or on the street, except the day her father passed. Do you have the house keys?”
“Right here,” Jill answered, gesturing at Victoria. “Officer Mendina, this is—”
“Jill, excuse me, I can introduce mysel
f.” Victoria edged Jill aside. “Hello, Officer, I’m Victoria Skyler, Abby’s sister. I’m also a law student at Seton Hall, and I object to these tactics by the police. You have no right to break down the door to my father’s house.”
“Hold on a minute, Ms. Skyler.” Officer Mendina raised a hand. “I’m sorry about your loss, and you have my condolences. Unfortunately, you may be misunderstanding our procedure. We’re not breaking down any doors. We don’t do that unless we know a crime or a medical emergency is in progress.”
“I thought so.” Victoria turned to Jill. “You told me they’d break down the door.”
Jill’s mouth went dry. “I’m sorry, I told you that to get the keys.”
“So you lied to me.” Victoria nodded, her lip curling. “You disgust me, you know that? Didn’t you say on the phone last night that you’d never lie to me? Wasn’t that you? You’re the one who called me ‘honey,’ right?”
Jill felt her face flush, embarrassed. She’d started off on the wrong foot with Victoria and she felt heartsick, wondering if they’d ever be close again. “Only because I was worried about your sister.”
“She’s fine, Jill. I know her a helluva lot better than you do. Butt out.”
“Ladies,” Officer Mendina said, toughening her tone, “if you want us to do a walk-through, we will. If not, we won’t. Make up your mind. What’s the decision?”
“No,” Victoria answered.
“Yes,” Jill answered at the same moment.
Officer Mendina looked from Jill to Victoria and back again. “We’re here, we canvassed, so we might as well finish what we started. May I have the keys, Ms. Skyler?”
“Oh, fine.” Victoria dug in a huge black purse, stuffed to the brim with a hairbrush, flowery makeup case, and an orange EpiPen, for her allergies. The sight of it took Jill back to a spring day when the girls were little and she’d taken them on a picnic to Valley Forge. Victoria had been stung by a bee, and before Jill even realized what happened, the self-possessed little girl had slipped her EpiPen from her pocket and was injecting herself with the calm assurance of a surgeon.
Honey, you did that perfectly, Jill had told her, afterwards. You’d be great in an emergency.
Victoria had grinned up at her. I’m going to be a doctor, like you.
Jill banished the memory as Victoria found the keys and handed them to Officer Mendina.
“Ladies, you both wait outside.” Officer Mendina slid out the printed photo from her back pocket and handed it to Jill. “Dr. Farrow, before I forget, here’s the photo you gave us.”
“Thanks.” Jill took the photo, and Officer Mendina left for William’s house, meeting up with the other officer on the sidewalk in front.
Victoria frowned. “Jill, where did you get that picture? It’s Dad’s.”
“Here, please take it, then. I didn’t mean any harm. It was in his laptop.” Jill didn’t want to fuss anymore, especially now that the police were walking up the steps to William’s house. She found herself in motion, her gut tensing at the thought of what they might find inside.
“Where did you get his laptop?” Victoria dogged her steps.
“Abby lent it to me. She asked me to help her set up a budget.” Jill kept walking, and the officers were unlocking the front door.
“She had no right to give it to you, and you had no right to take it. It belongs to Dad.”
“I’m only trying to help her.” Jill stopped at the sidewalk outside the house, her heart in her throat as the police vanished inside. It killed her not to follow them.
“Please stop telling me about my own sister, whom you haven’t seen in, like, forever. You’re not our mother anymore.”
Jill felt cut to the quick, but sucked it up. She glanced back at the house, and the front door was closed partway, with the officers inside. “Victoria, just so you know, Abby came to me, not the other way around.”
“Of course she did, because she’s a drama queen, and it’s the only way she knows to get attention. She can’t do anything right, so she does everything wrong. She can’t live on her own. She’s a mess, and you have yourself to thank for that.”
Jill took it on the chin, wondering again, what was going on inside the house. Passers-by were beginning to stare, making a pedestrian gaper-block. “Then maybe I can help her now.”
“Too little, too late.” Victoria shook her head. “She’s manipulating you, and you’re too full of yourself to know you’re playing into her hands.”
“That’s not true.” Jill edged over to peek in the window, but couldn’t see a thing. “Victoria, your sister really could be in there, hurt or injured.”
“No way, she’s only gone one night, and she sleeps around, don’t you get it? She’s the crazy chick that men love.” Victoria stepped closer. “All that talk about Dad being murdered is for attention. He wasn’t murdered, Jill. I’m really not shocked, the way Dad died. He worked all the time, and he took meds, so what? I take them, too. It’s not that bizarre.”
“No one’s saying that it is.” Jill could hear that Victoria was feeling criticized, and it reminded her that Victoria was just as sensitive as Abby, maybe more, but would never let it show. Jill turned to her, trying to make peace. “Is that why you’re so angry?”
Victoria’s face flushed. “No, I’m angry because you and Abby are turning my father’s death into yet another drama, and it’s all about her. You should’ve seen her at the memorial service. She made that scene of running after you, and when she came back in, every man in the church was standing in line to console her.”
Jill ignored the jealousy in Victoria’s tone and pictured the memorial service, intrigued. “Does that include Neil? Did he say anything to you at the service?”
“I don’t know Neil, and the service was chaos. I didn’t see him or half of my friends, because of you.” Victoria threw up her manicured hands. “You’re making everything worse, Jill. You’re making Abby worse. We’re not yours anymore. Go home to your own family. Leave mine alone. In fact, leave now. Go.”
Jill felt slapped. “I understand how you feel, and I’m sorry, but I’m not going, not this time. I want to make sure Abby’s okay.”
“She’s not, and she never will be. You should’ve thought about that before you ditched us.” Victoria’s tone changed slightly, her anger giving way to the pain, beneath, and Jill realized, like an epiphany, that Victoria was feeling as betrayed by her as she was by William.
“Victoria, I didn’t ditch you, I want you to know that. I never ditched you. If I had my way, I would have seen both of you, anytime, but your father told me not to—”
“Shut up!” Victoria shouted, as if newly provoked. “Can’t you leave my father out of it? Will you ever stop hating on him? He’s dead, Jill!”
Jill felt stricken. Between fighting with Victoria and worrying about Abby, her head was about to explode. She looked back at the house. She didn’t know what was taking the cops so long. The crowd was gathering. Suddenly, Jill took off for the stairs to William’s house. She couldn’t wait another minute to know if Abby was safe. She was going in.
“Jill, no!” Victoria shouted. “Don’t go in! The cops said to stay here.”
Jill hit the stairs just as Victoria’s friend Brian came hurrying up the street.
“Brian!” Victoria called to him. “You’re not going to believe this woman! She’s driving me nuts!”
Jill hurried inside.
Chapter Twenty-three
Jill scanned the living room, relieved to see that Abby hadn’t fallen down the stairs, and everything looked as it had last night. She could hear the police walking around on the second floor, and they were talking and joking with each other, their voices echoing in the large, open house.
Jill felt a wave of relief wash over her. If the police had found anything wrong, they wouldn’t be joking around. But she didn’t hear Abby’s voice among theirs, which left her more confused than ever. Abby’s car was here, but she was gone, and Jill wondered wh
at had happened after she’d left that night, after dropping off the groceries.
She sneaked into the kitchen, which was large and ringed with gray enamel cabinets and black marble counters. Sunlight emanated from a window that overlooked the car park, and the kitchen was clean to the point of being unused. She wondered if Abby had ordered her Chinese take-out for dinner, so she opened the chrome trash can with a step-on lid, releasing the odor of a scented garbage bag. The can was empty, and there was no take-out debris.
Jill turned and opened the refrigerator door, but it was full of the food she’d bought—salmon, cold cuts, even blueberry yogurt. None of it had been opened or eaten, and it suggested that Abby had left before dinner.
She closed the door and looked in the dishwasher, but there were no used tumblers. She noticed two bowls on the floor, one filled with triangle-shaped kibble. She remembered that Abby’s cat drank half and half, but she didn’t see the cat anywhere.
He always hides when people come over.
Jill went over to the bowl. It was full of half and half, and its surface had thickened, leaving a yellowing ring around the bowl. The bowl of kibble was also full. Just then she heard a commotion in the living room, and it sounded like Victoria and Brian entering the living room, and the cops, coming down the stairs, so Jill left the kitchen to meet them.
“What were you doing in there?” Victoria asked, frowning. She stood next to her friend Brian, who was tall and good-looking in wire-rimmed glasses, a starchy white oxford shirt, pressed jeans, and Gucci loafers, looking every inch the Manhattan lawyer, on the weekend.
Officer Mendina turned to Jill, disapproving. “Dr. Farrow, I asked you to wait on the sidewalk for your own safety.”
“I know, I’m sorry. What did you find?”
“Nothing. She’s not up there, and there’s no sign of anything to worry about.”
“Is the bed slept in? It’s the blue one.”
“No, it’s made and didn’t look slept in.”
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