The Way to Her Heart

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The Way to Her Heart Page 13

by Amy Reece


  “It’s okay. I just meant I’ve never had a very big family. We used to spend Thanksgiving with my grandmother, but she died five years ago.”

  “Well, you’ll have your fill of my family by the end of the day.” Josh smiled at her again in the rearview mirror.

  Bernie was unprepared for the vast number of relatives she met that afternoon. Claire was one of three siblings, and they were all at her parents’ house, along with their spouses and children. Bernie counted twenty-three people as she followed Josh to the buffet line.

  “Go for the dark meat,” Josh whispered in her ear, causing gooseflesh to rise on her arms. “Gran’s turkey is always dry, so it’s your best bet.”

  She helped herself to a small amount and reached for the spoon in the next dish, bypassing it when Josh shook his head slightly. She held back a smile and moved past the stuffing and on to the sweet potatoes.

  Josh was the oldest grandchild by several years, hardly surprising since Claire was the oldest of the three children and she’d had Josh when she was sixteen. Josh and Bernie had both been granted seats at the adult table; the children’s table was a boisterous mix of children from toddler through early teen. Josh’s youngest cousin was in a high chair pulled up to the adult table, and the grown-ups all took turns holding the baby when she grew tired of her high chair. Claire seemed to hold her especially close, and Bernie realized she was actually quite a young woman; she wondered about the possibility of her remarrying and having more kids. Wouldn’t that be a trip for Josh?

  The second dinner was a slightly more sedate affair. Josh’s father had been one of two children and younger by quite a few years. There were no small children and Josh was the youngest grandchild. Bernie was saddened to realize Caleb was actually the youngest and these people had lost their son as well; it must be excruciatingly painful to try to celebrate a holiday when loved ones were gone. Josh had told her they hadn’t even pretended to celebrate either Thanksgiving or Christmas last year right after his dad and brother had died.

  “Bernie, have some more stuffing.” Grammy Norma—she’d insisted Bernie call her that—spooned more on her plate. Bernie didn’t mind, although she was getting close to her limit and there was still dessert in her future. The food at this more formal dinner was excellent, as Josh had promised, and Bernie felt drawn to his grandparents, especially his grandfather, who had Josh’s eyes.

  “Josh, have you heard from the culinary institute yet?”

  Bernie looked curiously at Josh; she had no idea what his grandfather referred to.

  “Not yet, Pops. I just applied. It’ll be January at the earliest before I hear anything.”

  “What’s this, Josh?” his cousin, Jennifer, asked. “I thought you were going to the university here.”

  “Oh, I am. Pops is talking about a week-long institute over spring break I applied for. It’s in San Francisco and focused on technique. I hope I get in.”

  Bernie was incredibly relieved to hear he was planning to attend college here in Albuquerque. She knew she had no earthly reason to be glad, but her heart simply wouldn’t listen. She looked into her mashed potatoes and faced the hard truth about her feelings for this amazing boy who had rescued her. She had fallen—hard—for him.

  ***

  “I have a favor to ask.” She hated to ask, hated to disturb him, but she needed his help.

  Josh sat up from where he’d been lounging on the couch. It was the day after Thanksgiving, and his mom was out scouring the town for Black Friday deals. “Sure. What do you need?”

  “I need to go by and visit my mom again. I’ve driven by the trailer a few times in the last couple weeks, but I haven’t stopped because her boyfriend’s been there—”

  “I’ll drive. You ready?” He grabbed a ball cap and his keys and ushered her out the front door.

  She waited until he set the alarm and locked the door. “Thanks, Josh,” she whispered. “I just don’t want to go alone.”

  “Of course. What are friends for?” He flashed her those devastating dimples.

  Was it her imagination, or did he ever so slightly emphasize the word friends? Her spirits sank as she realized he was distancing himself after their near-kiss in the kitchen before Thanksgiving. Of course he regretted it and must want to make sure she didn’t think he was pining for her or anything. Well, she got it. It hurt, of course, but she really didn’t expect anything else. “Do you mind stopping at Walmart?”

  She filled her basket with a few basics, wishing she could choose healthier items than the white bread and processed cheese slices, but her mother wouldn’t eat it; she would be throwing her money away. At the register she gave Josh a stern look and he backed away, his hands held in front of him; she wouldn’t put up with him paying again. He did insist on carrying the grocery bags to the truck, however, and she decided not to assert her independence over it.

  The boyfriend’s car wasn’t in the driveway when they arrived, and Bernie was optimistic about the visit. She used her key to enter and was dismayed to find him sitting on the couch, drinking a beer, wearing a stained wife-beater tank top, which exposed a multitude of tattoos, including a truly disgusting one on his neck. Seriously, Mom? Are you kidding me? This guy?

  “Who the hell are you? Oh, it’s the kid. Haven’t seen you in a long time. What the fuck did you do to your hair? You look like a goddamn boy!”

  Nice. She held the door open for Josh and let him take the groceries to the minuscule kitchen. “Where’s my mom?”

  “She went to the store to get more beer. What’re you doing here? You coming back?” He followed this with a belch.

  “Not in this lifetime. Josh, just stick the bag in the fridge.” He complied and returned to her side. “Let’s go.”

  He opened the truck door for her. “Shoot. I forgot my sunglasses. Be right back.” He loped back to the trailer. He returned a moment later, whistling as he got in the driver’s side. She didn’t see any sunglasses. She raised her eyebrows at him, questioning. “Guess I didn’t bring them.” He shrugged as he started the truck.

  She knew he’d somehow told the man off. “Do you mind if we stop by Gabby’s?” He drove up the street to her friend’s trailer, but Mr. Rodriguez wasn’t home. He turned the truck around and prepared to head out of the trailer park. “Wait! I just thought of something.” She directed him to park by the leasing office, and he held the door for her as they entered.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  “Security video,” she whispered as she passed. “Hey, Rose, what’s up?” She greeted the middle-aged woman behind the desk.

  “Bernie! Oh my goodness! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you! How are you?” The woman came around the desk and hugged Bernie.

  “I’m good. How’s everything here?”

  “Oh, fine, I suppose. Where have you been?”

  “I moved out, Rose. The new boyfriend and I don’t get along. This is my friend, Josh.” She gestured to him, and he stepped forward to shake the woman’s hand. “Listen, I was wondering about the security cameras. Do they work?”

  “Of course.” She sounded slightly offended.

  “Great. How long do you keep the tapes?”

  Rose sighed and returned to her seat. “Tapes? What century do you think we’re in? Everything’s digital now, sweetie. You want to see the file from the night Gabby disappeared, huh?”

  Bernie nodded eagerly and sat across from Rose. “You still have it?”

  “Of course. I sent a copy to the police, you know, so it’s not like you’re going to discover anything new. They asked for it first thing, and it really doesn’t show much. But I guess it won’t do any harm to show it to you.” She clicked at the computer keys for a few moments and then swiveled the screen so Bernie and Josh could see.

  The video was grainy, but they could see a car screech to a halt just outside the entrance, throwing up gravel. The passenger door was flung open, and a girl got out.

  “That’s Gabby!” Bernie excl
aimed. Neither of the other two said anything, but Josh put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

  Gabby turned to yell something—unheard because the video had no sound—and the car peeled away. They watched her begin to walk along the road leading to her trailer, but she stopped and looked at her phone, then turned and walked back down the road toward the entrance. She leaned against the sign and waited for about five minutes. The timestamp in the bottom right corner read 1:23 a.m. A car pulled up and stopped, but it was out of range of the camera. Gabby pushed off from the sign and jogged to the car, where she opened the back passenger door and got in. The car backed up and pulled a U-turn, always out of range of the security camera. One twenty-seven a.m.

  “That’s it, I’m afraid.” Rose stopped the video and turned her computer screen back around.

  “Thanks, Rose.”

  “I know you’re worried sick about her. Her dad is too. I’m praying she’ll come home soon.”

  “Me too, Rose.” Bernie stood to leave.

  “Are you safe, Bernie?”

  “Yeah, Rose. I’m fine.”

  The leasing manager came around the desk to hug Bernie again. “You let me know if you need anything.” She turned to Josh. “And you take care of her, young man.”

  “I will. Are you ready to go, Bernie?”

  He drove in silence, seeming to understand her need for introspection.

  “That video proves she didn’t run away.”

  “How do you figure?” he asked.

  “She didn’t go home that night! She wasn’t planning to run away. She got a text from someone, and they picked her up. Whoever was in that car is the last person to see her. That person knows what happened to her.”

  “Those people in the car, you mean.”

  “What?”

  “Well, there was more than one person waiting in the car.”

  “How do you know?” She turned to look at his profile.

  “She got in the backseat. She would have sat in the front if there was only one person in the car. There was probably someone else in the front passenger seat, so Gabby got in the back.”

  She stared at him, feeling dumb that she hadn’t thought of it. “You’re really smart, you know that?”

  ***

  “I’ve seen the video, Bernie. It doesn’t necessarily prove she didn’t run away.” Detective Garcia had actually invited her back to his desk this time, but he didn’t seem nearly as excited by her take on the security video as she thought he should be.

  “How can you say that? It shows she didn’t go back to her trailer. She didn’t have anything with her! She would have packed at least a few things if she was running away.”

  “We don’t know she didn’t return later.” He was clearly running out of patience, but Bernie was determined to get through to him.

  “Is there a security video that shows her returning later?”

  He narrowed his eyes at her and heaved a sigh. “No. But it only proves she didn’t go through the front entrance. She could easily slip in through a pedestrian entrance where there are no cameras.”

  Bernie hated to admit he was right. The trailer park was anything but secure; Gabby could have been dropped off nearly anywhere else. “All right, maybe it doesn’t prove anything, but it at least shows there was someone besides Diego who saw her late the night she disappeared. You have to figure out who was in the car that picked her up.”

  “Bernie, what do you think I do here all day? Of course I’ve tried to figure out whose car it was, but there’s very little to go on. The investigation is stalled. I’m sorry, but I’ve got other cases that aren’t, so I need you to go home and stop investigating or whatever it is you think you’re doing, okay?”

  “If you’d do your job, I wouldn’t have to investigate!” she yelled, attracting unwanted attention from the surrounding desks. The detective stared at her, his eyebrows raised, clearly unimpressed. “Sorry. I just want to find Gabby.”

  “I know. That’s what I want too. I swear I’m doing my best. There’s just very little to go on. Go home, Bernie.”

  ***

  The house was empty when she got home, except for Freddie the Great Dane, who seemed inclined to help her mope. They sat together on the couch, channel-surfing through at least three hundred channels. Apparently she hadn’t missed much by not having satellite TV growing up. There was nothing she wanted to watch, so she settled for some nature show on Animal Planet, which seemed to interest Freddie. The warmth of the dog leaning against her made her sleepy, and she napped for an hour and woke ravenous. Freddie followed her to the kitchen and poked his giant head into the refrigerator as she looked for something to eat. Everything looked like some sort of ingredient, so she grabbed an apple and flopped onto a barstool.

  Josh returned from work to find her in the backyard, swinging idly on the porch swing. “What’s wrong?”

  “Who said anything was wrong?” She realized she sounded bitchy, but she was powerless to stop.

  “O-kay. So nothing’s wrong. What did you do all day?”

  “What, do you think I sat around on my ass? I’m sorry if I wasn’t productive enough for you!” She was on a roll. “Should I have scrubbed a few floors while you were gone?”

  He stared at her, wide-eyed. “Why are you mad at me? What did I do?”

  “Nothing! You didn’t—agh!” She realized she was starting to cry, so she heaved herself off the swing and ran in the house. “Just leave me alone!” She ran to her bedroom and slammed the door. It took approximately three minutes to become deeply ashamed of her behavior—so ashamed she flopped on her bed, covered her head with her pillow, and wished she could start the day over. Why did she have to snap at Josh? He was nothing but nice to her and she had bitten his head off. She’d always had this nasty tendency to deflect her bad mood on others. She wondered what she could do to get back in his good graces.

  Her phone buzzed a message alert in her pocket.

  Josh: Hungry? I made fried rice.

  She was starving, so she swallowed her pride and went to the kitchen, her stomach growling at the delicious aroma leading the way. He glanced up briefly as she slid onto a barstool. He said nothing but filled a plate and set it before her. She dug into the rice, spearing a juicy piece of chicken. It was delicious, and she wolfed down the plateful in record time.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He gave her a crooked smile. “It’s okay. You were probably just hungry. I get pretty cranky when my blood sugar crashes.”

  It was sweet of him to give her an easy out. “Thanks. I was hungry, but that’s no excuse.” She sighed and launched into the real reason for her bad mood. “I stopped by the police station earlier to talk to the detective about the security video. It didn’t go well.”

  “Tell me.”

  “He pretty much brushed off all my ideas. He said the video only proves she left, but she could easily have returned and not been caught on camera. He said he has other cases which have better leads, and that’s what he’s focusing on. He’s not even investigating Gabby’s case anymore!” She was getting worked up again, so she stood and began pacing, hoping to find some semblance of calm.

  “Hey.” He stood and put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Bernie. That sucks. Let’s start looking into her social media tonight. Maybe we’ll find something the police haven’t noticed.”

  She looked up into his blue eyes and saw nothing but sympathy. She threw her arms around him, the first time she had ever instigated a hug. It felt wonderful.

  Later that evening they sat on the couch, he on his laptop, she on his iPad, searching through as much of Gabby’s social media as they could access.

  “Well, Facebook is pretty much a bust since she didn’t have much set to show the public. And it’s not like we can send a friend request. How are you doing with Twitter?” Josh set the laptop aside and leaned over to see the iPad screen.

  “I have no idea what I’m doing,” she said and handed
the device to him. “This Twitter crap makes no sense to me. I found her account, but I have no idea what to do.”

  He chuckled and took the iPad. “It’s not brain surgery, Bernie. Look, you follow like this, and now we can read her tweet stream.” He scrolled through the lengthy list of tweets. “God, girls are brutal! Look at this. Ur a slutty bitch.” He clicked on the name. “Natalia Ramirez. Do you know her?”

  She nodded. “She’s the one who keeps holding the candlelight vigils for Gabby. They were friends.”

  “Yeah, it really sounds like it. Listen to this. I can’t believe u said that u whore. Is this how girls talk to each other?”

  “How would I know? I don’t have any close girlfriends. I would certainly never talk to anyone like that,” she muttered.

  “Well, maybe that’s why you don’t have any close girlfriends. High school kinda sucks, huh? I really hope college is better.”

  “God, me too. I hope I get into college.”

  “You filled out your applications, didn’t you?”

  “Of course. I filled out the scholarship stuff too. I have no idea what I’m going to do about all the federal financial aid forms, though.”

  “Mom and I will help you figure it out. Don’t worry.” He reached over to ruffle her hair. He confused her. A few days ago he’d nearly kissed her, and now he was treating her like a little sister. “Check this out. Gabby’s last tweet. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. She tweeted that out at 11:07 p.m.”

  “She was still at the party at that time. What was she talking about? What can’t she do anymore?”

  Josh shook his head. “But I have an idea this Natalia chick might know. You think you could hang around her, maybe find out what was bothering Gabby?”

  “Ugh! I can’t think of a more mind-numbing or soul-killing experience. I was going to do it a while ago, but I never did. Diego said Gabby was fighting a lot with Natalia and Sofia.”

  “Is Sofia another minion?”

  Bernie laughed. “Yeah. Well, I guess I have some new friends to make when we get back to school Monday.”

 

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