by Jamie Howard
“Boys, please.” Juliet took a sip of orange juice. “I’d really appreciate it if, on the day after my wedding, my new husband and my best friend could just get along.”
Felix’s hands slapped his armrests. “Hold up. This joker is your best friend? I thought I was your best friend!”
Bianca used her knife to encourage some unevenly sliced pieces of oranges onto a plate. “Well, this is going to get messy fast,” she said under her breath.
Jules made a face in response.
“And really,” Felix continued, “he can’t be your best friend. He’s my best friend.”
“There’s plenty of me to go around.” I spread my arms magnanimously.
“You sure Dani won’t mind?” Rachel asked, one eyebrow quirked.
“Where is she anyway?” That question came from Bianca as she concentrated on dividing another orange.
“She had to head home.” I tried to brush the question away. Honestly, I didn’t know the whole reason behind why she had to go, but I’d gotten to the point where I’d accepted that there were times she had to and I had to be okay with that.
Ben barked out a sharp laugh, massaging his neck as he walked past. “At least she managed to say goodbye this time.”
There wasn’t anything odd about what he said, but it struck a chord nevertheless. “What did you say?”
“Forget it, I’m not trying to start a fight with you this morning. I’m just looking for some coffee.”
“No.” I curled my fingers into a fist trying to figure out what it was about what he’d said that was putting me so much on edge. “Say it again.”
“Seriously, man, I—”
“Say it again!”
“I said, at least she managed to say goodbye this time!”
His words circled my head until it wasn’t his voice I heard, but hers. I promise you I won’t leave without saying goodbye.
My heart stopped.
My hands frantically patted down my empty pockets.
“I need a phone, any phone.”
They were all staring at me, but I didn’t care. I didn’t have time to explain.
Rachel’s phone landed in my hand and I quickly dialed the number I’d committed to heart. A tinny voice sounded through the speaker: “We’re sorry, the number you have dialed is no longer in service.”
Chapter 36: Dani
Dark water swirled down the bathroom sink, the remnants of the hair dye I’d used to blacken my hair as dark as my thoughts that morning. It’s the reason I’d picked black in the first place—I knew it would match my mood.
I slipped my fingers through the handles of the small silver scissors and ran a comb through my wet hair. I wanted the change to be drastic. The person I’d be next wouldn’t be anything like the Dani I’d left behind.
My hair fell into the sink basin, thick chunks, long strands, until there was more hair in the sink than on my head. The longest edges barely brushed the tops of my shoulders, and though I fought the urge, I finally met my gaze in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes stared back, as empty as I felt inside.
The worst part was that he’d offered to come with me. Had been willing to throw away his entire life for the chance to be together. I’d never have been able to take him up on that, but the fact that he’d even considered it had floored me. The ghost of him, the knowledge that if I’d been selfish enough he might be with me every day, would haunt me every day.
I felt hollowed out. Like someone had scooped out everything inside that made me me and thrown it away like yesterday’s garbage. A sob tried to force its way out of my mouth, but I fought it tooth and nail until I’d beat it into submission.
Wiping off the scissors, I stowed them back in my bag and then did a quick check to make sure I had everything inside. I’d made enough room to bring along the dress Gavin gave me, though the shoes were a casualty. The micron pens and colored pencils were safely packed away, though the pad of paper I had to leave behind.
Something silver glinted from the bottom corner, making me pause. It wasn’t something I’d put there, I would have remembered. Although Gavin had said he’d left something special for me in the bag. I pulled out a tiny rectangle, the size of my palm, a set of earbuds wrapped around it.
Unwinding them, I gently slipped them in my ears and let the little device power on. I sank down onto the futon mattress. There was an icon for music that I hovered over with my thumb. Now didn’t seem like the right time for this, but if I didn’t find what was on this before I left, it’d be days before I’d have the time alone to do it. My curiosity wouldn’t last that long.
I pressed play against my better judgment.
Gavin’s voice called through my headphones, and my hand drifted up to cover my mouth. “Hey Dani, it’s me, Gavin. So, I want to take you back to the Hamptons, to a particular conversation that we had. You said that you used to listen to the radio, afraid of what you might hear, because you were always expecting to hear some song I wrote lashing out at you through the speakers.” He laughed and my first tear fell. “You weren’t entirely wrong. There were definitely songs, but they weren’t angry ones. They were love songs. I used to write them in pencil so that one day, when I’d put you behind me, I could go back and erase them if I wanted.” Another laugh, longer this time. “Needless to say, that never happened. But I did change my mind about one thing: never recording them. Now, there’s only ten here, I felt like any more than that would probably make me look a little bit pathetic. So, I hope you enjoy them.” A pause. “I love you, Dani.”
The first track started and my gaze drifted to the window. My vision blurred as an acoustic guitar sounded through the headphones, and the words he sang slammed into me like a freight train. Each syllable a weapon in and of itself, wounding me.
And I don’t know where you’re going,
Don’t care where you’ve been.
But won’t you take me with you,
When you set out again?
I’ve tried my life without you,
Chased down every dream.
But darling, you belong with me.
Oh darling, you belong with me.
Something cold pressed into the hollow between my shoulder blades, the feel of it unmistakable. Slowly, I wrapped my hand around the wire dangling from my earbuds and pulled until they popped out of my ears. They landed soundlessly on the bed, the softest sound of Gavin’s voice still spilling from them.
“Put your hands in the air.” The muzzle of the gun pressed harder into my back. “Now turn around slowly.”
Chapter 37: Gavin
“Gav, you need to calm down and tell us what’s going on.” Ian shoved me down into a chair and I bounced back up again, unable to keep still.
“She’s gone. She left.” I dropped my head in my hands. “I can’t believe she fucking left.”
“What are you talking about?” Jules grabbed my face and forced me to look at her. “You already told us that Dani went home. What are we missing?”
My fingers dove through my hair, tugging. I wanted to pace, but there wasn’t enough room. There was barely enough space to breathe in this tiny office that the eight of us were crowded in. “She said goodbye.”
“Yeah, you’re gonna have to give us a little bit more than that,” Ben said drily, his hip resting against the edge of the desk.
How the hell could I make them understand? Where did I start? If I thought it would do any good, I’d be speeding back to Manhattan, but her disconnected phone told me everything I needed to know—she’d left. It was the only reason.
“Dani has been running from something.”
“From what?” Rachel asked, hair falling forward as she tilted her head to the side.
“I don’t know.” I sat down in the chair Ian had tried to manhandle me into before. “I know she’s been running for most of her life. I know she was shot when we were at SU, right after she disappeared last time. I think it has something to do with her mom being murdered, but she would never really
give me a straight answer about it all. She said it was too dangerous.”
“Rach.” Ian glanced toward the door. “Go get your laptop.”
She left the door hanging open, only closing it when she’d returned, laptop cradled in her arms. Sitting at the desk, she powered up her machine and started typing. “Okay, so Dani. Is that short for Danielle? What’s her last name?”
They looked to me.
“Winters. But that’s not her real name.” I shook my head. “I don’t know what is.”
“What about, um, a birthday?”
“It’s sometime in the summer. July, August maybe.”
“Okay, let’s try this a different way. Tell me what you do know about her.”
I rubbed a hand over my forehead, wracking my brain. “She went by Dani when we were at Syracuse, too. Different last name there though. Then it was Sommers.”
“That helps.” She didn’t look up as she typed. “It could be nothing, really, but there’s a commonality between the two names.”
Ben snapped his fingers. “Seasons.”
“Right.” A line creased her forehead as she concentrated. “Typically, when someone needs to change their name a lot they try to stick with a theme, things that are similar so it’s easier to be remember. So, what I can do is write an algorithm that will search for different variations on seasons and weather, pair that with Dani, Danielle, and other deviations of similar names. If there’s any other information you can give me I can add that in, make the search more specific.”
“Well, I mentioned her mom. And, oh, she said she grew up in the city.”
“Her father,” Daphne piped up from her spot next to the bookshelf. “She said he was the only family she has left.”
“What? She said that?” I whipped around and had to meet Daphne’s gaze by leaning dangerously far back in my chair.
“Yeah. You were sleeping and I accused her of being afraid of meeting Mom and I said something really nasty about, didn’t she have a mom? And she was like, she’s dead. So, I asked about her dad and that’s what she told me.”
I looked back to Rachel. “She never told me anything about her dad.”
Felix drummed his fingers against his armrests in an agitated rhythm. “She never mentioned seeing her dad? She was in the city by herself?”
“Well, no.” I had to stand again. My shoulder bumped Ian’s as I shoved past him to get to the window. “She’d get these text messages and she’d have to disappear at a moment’s notice.” I held a hand out toward Ben. “That’s why she took off when we were at the Hamptons. Last night, too.”
“And you never asked where she was going?” Felix frowned.
“Of course I asked. I asked half a million times at least. But she never told me anything, always told me it was too dangerous for me to know anything. Hell, it wasn’t until a week ago that she showed me where she’d been living.”
“You know where she lives?” Rachel perked up. “I need you to go there.”
“What? Why?” I scooped a pen up off the desk and proceeded to click it—click-click, click-click, click-click, click-click. “It’s not like she’s going to be there. I’d lay money on it.”
“Obviously, or you’d already be there.” Daphne pursed her lips.
“I don’t think she’s there,” Rachel clarified, her fingers still tap, tap, tapping away at the keyboard. “But I’m hoping she left something there. Bills, her old phone, anything. Actually.” The typing stopped. “I have to go with you. If there’s some miracle that her cell phone is there and it has a SIM card and she left it in the phone . . . I can’t get anything off it remotely.”
“I don’t have a car.” Click-click, click-click, click-click.
“We’re all going,” Ben announced, punctuating his sentence by standing up. “None of us can help if we’re here.” He clapped a hand on my back. “I know I gave you two a hard time, and as difficult as this might be to believe, I really had your best interests at heart.”
“You’re right, that is pretty difficult to believe.”
Bianca scooped up her phone. “Well, while you two kiss and make up, I’m going to go grab my bags. Meet back down here in five?”
Rachel slammed her laptop closed. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 38: Dani
The interrogation room was freezing, and the handcuffs around my wrists that were looped through holes on the table jangled as I shivered. It didn’t help that my hair was still damp, or that I knew the room was purposefully cold.
I shifted on the uncomfortable metal chair, the whole thing wobbling from one leg being shorter than the others. Again—I knew it was a tactic to make me uncomfortable, throw me off my game, and yet it didn’t stop me from being annoyed about it.
I’d known if the police caught wind of me that they’d be eager have a chat, but this seemed a little extreme. Unless . . . unless this was about Chicago. I shook my head. Even if that were the case, Chicago was a plain case of self-defense. Any evidence they had would point to that.
Time ticked by, at least an hour if I had to guess, before the door opened. The overhead fluorescent light flickered as the door slammed shut. “Sorry about the wait.” A man sat down across from me, his light brown hair cropped short. He pushed his sleeves up his toned forearms. “I’m Special Agent Anderson.”
FBI? I frowned. That didn’t make any sense.
“And you are?” He prompted.
“You’d think maybe you’d know my name before you chain me to a table.” I lifted my shackled hands, showing off my short leash.
“My apologies. I just wasn’t sure which name you wanted me to call you by. I mean, there’s Dani Winters.” He set a photocopy of my ID on the table between us. “Or Danielle Sommers.” Another page landed on top of the first. “Andy Vera.” The pile grew. “Andrea Behar.” He slammed the next sheet down. “This could go on for a while so how about we go back to the beginning.” The last sheet showed a grainy photo of a five-year-old me, the word “Missing” in big block letters on the top and my name, my real name, at the bottom: Autumn Parker.
He folded his hands together and leaned toward me. “So, what I need you to tell me, Autumn, is where your father is.”
“Why? Burning his cover wasn’t enough? Getting my mother murdered wasn’t enough?”
He tapped his pointer fingers together, thoughtful. “Tell me what you know about your mother’s death.”
“I’ll pass.”
“Humor me.”
“Take these off.” The handcuffs bit into my skin as I yanked my hands up.
“I’ll take them off if you cooperate.”
I ground my teeth together. “Take them off and I’ll cooperate.”
He studied me for a second before reaching into his pocket for the key. The second they were off, I massaged the red skin around my wrists. “My mother was murdered after a corrupt cop on the NYPD blew my father’s cover. He was deep under with some drug cartel.”
He pinched his lips together, holding up one finger toward me. “Give me just one second.”
“Like I have a choice,” I muttered under my breath as he left the room. Mere minutes passed before it swung back open. Anderson had company this time. Another man, a face pulled straight out of my nightmare. I shot out of my chair and it slammed to the ground with an explosive clang. I backed into the corner, reaching for a gun that wasn’t there.
“Autumn, I need you to calm down.”
The tiled wall was unforgiving against my back. “I don’t know what kind of joke this is, but that man—” I pointed at him “—is the man who murdered my mother. I saw him.”
“You saw Officer Ellison stab your mother?” He set a stack of folders on the table.
“Nice try.” I gave him a nasty look. “She was shot.”
He nodded. “And you saw Officer Ellison shoot her?”
“He was there.” The image flashed in my mind again—blood soaking my nightgown, Mom’s cold fingers clutched in mine, and him, in the doo
rway. “I heard the shots and he was in the doorway.”
“So, you didn’t see him shoot your mother?”
“Stop trying to twist my words around! Why are you protecting him?”
“Autumn, where was your father? Was he there?”
“He was—” I stopped, the edges of my memory going fuzzy. “He made it there too late. Fought off the man. Made sure he didn’t hurt me too.”
“You’re sure he wasn’t in the apartment? Your parents weren’t having an argument?”
The yelling, so loud I couldn’t forget it. A man and a woman, but . . .
Anderson traded a look with Ellison, the latter of which left the room without a word. Turning back to me, he slid a red folder across the table. “I think you need to see this.”
I shouldn’t look. They had to be tricking me. That’s what they did. But the more he teased the threads of my memory, the more it felt like everything was unraveling. I picked up the chair and sat back down in it.
His hand covered the top of the folder, his fingers surprisingly hairless. “I have to warn you, this is going to be hard to see.”
I flipped the cover open and immediately slammed my eyes shut. Pictures, God there were pictures. Little evidence markers and the blood . . . I’d remembered the blood just right.
Cautiously, I let myself look. It was just as I remembered—her body in an enormous puddle of blood lying in the kitchen, the front door wide open. Bloody footprints tracked across the floor, and what was that? I spread the pictures out till I found the one I was looking for. There, outside the door was another puddle of blood.
“Whose blood is this?”
“At seven forty-three on the night of August the sixteenth, your neighbor, a Mr. Nelson, placed a call to 911 to report a domestic disturbance. It wasn’t the first one at your address, but until that point we hadn’t had anything to charge your father with. While he was on the phone with the operator, Mr. Nelson reported hearing gunshots. Officer Ellison and his partner, Officer Baker, arrived on the scene. Officer Ellison reported visualizing your mother, you on the floor next to her, and your father behind you. Officer Ellison was shot twice in the gut, Officer Baker once in the head.”
