by Jeff Abbott
And she hadn’t told Dad she had the emails and the receipts: what Mom’s company had refused to give him.
And she wouldn’t. Not yet. She embraced him, and they held each other like the world was against them.
26
MARIAH DROVE TO a Starbucks in the Lakehaven Market shopping center and went inside. It wasn’t busy, and she found a corner table with an open outlet and snagged a venti vanilla latte.
She could have done this at home, but she didn’t want to be around her dad right now. He was her rock, and now she could see the cracks in him, the flaws. And she didn’t want him to know she had Mom’s emails. Not yet. She needed to do this alone.
She slid the Acrys Networks flash drive Karen had given her into her laptop’s port. She opened the massive file with a text editor she used to write code.
She took a deep breath and searched for “Bethany Curtis.”
Mariah made a noise in her throat. Over twenty threads of emails. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Here it was. The link.
She read through the emails, slowly.
Beth Dunning: So fun to meet you at WebCon and have margaritas—I have pics! Maybe I should delete LOL. Take care and talk soon.
Bethany Curtis: You are a hoot girl! Yes, let’s get together again soon—do you get an expense account? I’m kidding. OK I’m half kidding.
Beth: Well yes on the expense account but then you have to get Andy the Candy to place an order. Seriously though yes, let’s meet up. Can your hubby join or do we do a girls night out?
Bethany: I’ll see if I can get hubby to ignore his start up for an evening…what about yours?
Beth: Mine, no! he’s so so boring. I can’t inflict Captain Accountant on you.
Her mother had been at the same WebCon and had met Bethany there, trying to make a sale. This was it, proof of their connection. She shivered for a moment and reread the exchange.
Andy the Candy? With a jolt Mariah realized her mother meant Andy Candolet…who, after all, would have been in charge of security software purchases at Ahoy Transportation. Andy the Candy. She frowned at the idea of her mother talking that way about a guy only a few years older than Mariah. Or really, any guy other than her dad. And she didn’t much like her mother describing her father as boring to a new friend. It made her feel cold inside. She read on:
Bethany: It’s always a girls’ night out with me! Until the husband gets that company launched IT’S TAKING FOREVAH
Beth: It was the same with me before Acrys went public—long long hours. I loved the excitement and vesting in stock but a lot of work and I know some marriages that didn’t make it through or limped across the finish line…he’ll do great and you’re there to support and encourage him.
Bethany: Yeah I just wish he was here more. I miss him. And it feels like everything else is going wrong in my life these days. OK SORRY! Not complaining.
Beth: Let your hair down. He won’t know.
Her mom, encouraging an unhappy wife to let her hair down.
But they knew each other. That was the key. The link. The hope for the truth, the pattern to take away suspicion off her father.
She read through the other emails: more plans made for margaritas, which happened but was cut short by Beth having a customer emergency so she had to leave early (apologized for in a subsequent email), mentions of a meeting, Beth asking Bethany to get her a sales meeting with Andy.
Then:
Bethany: You won’t believe this, there’s money missing at work and they accused me. I think Andy took the $$.
Beth: No way either you or The Candy took money from there.
Bethany: You don’t know what he’s capable of.
Beth: Your husband’s about to make a fortune, why would you steal money now?
Bethany: I know but it looks bad for my job; Jake is going to be so upset.
Beth: You haven’t told him?
Bethany: I just found out. I am surprised they didn’t march me out the door but Andy stood up for me and said it was an accounting error or a mistaken transfer and we’d find it. I can’t believe this on top of everything else: the stolen credit cards, the prank sex toys sent to the office here. My life is a train wreck.
No, I don’t know your mom, Andy had said. Was that a lie? Her mother must have met him at least once; she’d used a nickname. Andy the Candy. It seemed so inappropriate and unlike her. But there it was, in glowing text.
Mariah had never thought of her mother having a social life as part of her sales job. She just assumed her mother called on customers, made her pitch, and came home. Had she ever asked about her mother’s work? She hadn’t. It put food on the table and helped put a roof over Mariah’s head, and she’d never wondered much about the intricacies of it.
Beth emailed Bethany one more time about the embezzlement: Seriously did you get this worked out? Did they find the money?
Bethany: I cannot talk about this on email. I had to sign a confidentiality agreement.
Her mother left it alone. At least in email.
And then the next to final email, from Bethany to Beth: Have to cancel on the drinks, sorry, you know all the damage I’m dealing with. Would love to meet your daughter and hubby sometime.
Bethany knew I existed, Mariah thought. Mom talked about me to her. Of course Mom did. But she tried to remember if her mother had ever mentioned a particular friend she’d made at a conference or on a sales call. She didn’t. Maybe Mom talked about it, and Mariah, busy with her own life, consumed by her own dramas, heard but didn’t listen.
Was that why Andy’s name seemed momentarily familiar?
She opened the final email exchange:
Beth: I’m glad you called. So, what are you going to do now that you know about your dad?
Bethany: I don’t know. Long vacation? Some alone time. Think things through.
Beth: What can I do to help you?
Bethany: Keep it safe. And keep the margaritas cold for when life returns to normal. And say nothing. Just…say nothing.
Beth: All right. I’m here when you want to talk.
This was a week before Bethany took off for Houston.
Bethany’s dad. What about him?
Keep what safe?
These two women had been friends of a sort, drinking buddies. And then closer, going into detail on their private lives.
Had her mother had an entirely parallel life she hadn’t known about? That no one had known about? She could imagine Broussard trolling through her thousands of emails, looking for evidence against her father, or for a sign that there was a boyfriend or lover, and ignoring or speeding through the emails that were about female friendship or closing software deals. Had he even noticed she had exchanged emails with a woman who’d gone missing? But that was it. Bethany Curtis had been accused of a crime and had told her mother she was leaving her husband and flown to Houston and disappeared because she wanted to disappear. She wasn’t considered a possible kidnapping victim like her mom was.
She searched for Candolet.
She found a single email to Andy. Great to meet you at WebCon at our booth. Would really like the chance to talk to you about how Acrys Networks can help address your security concerns. I’m enclosing some preliminary information and will follow up so I can better understand your needs.
Generic sales email. No cop searching her database would think this was odd or important. Maybe Andy and Mom had met, and he honestly didn’t remember. But she was friends with Bethany. Did Bethany talk to Andy about Mom—try to help her win a deal at Ahoy? And the nickname…had it just been a flirty affectation, delivered from a distance? Maybe borrowed from Bethany or another woman?
She went through the receipt scans, checking during the four-day period that WebCon’s interactive festival was held. Drinks receipt at Tequila Joe’s. Margaritas. Scrawled on the top, in her mother’s handwriting, was Ahoy Transportation.
So they knew each other, and they met more than once. They confide
d in each other. And then they both went missing. And so this couldn’t have anything to do with her father, surely. She felt like she could breathe again.
She closed her laptop. She went back to her father’s car. She opened the trunk, saw all the equipment she’d arrayed for when she found her mother’s kidnappers. The police thought she was a joke. She wasn’t.
But Mom had known something about Bethany’s dad. Mom had been asked to keep something for Bethany. Heat and rage and a strange satisfaction all surged through her blood. She was going to find out the truth. It was in reach.
27
THE STARTUP JAKE Curtis had launched, TreyCord Systems, had later been bought by another local company called DataMarvel, headquartered in north Austin. Mariah drove east through Lakehaven, got onto the MoPac expressway, shot across Lady Bird Lake (a stretch of the Colorado River on the southern edge of downtown Austin), and up to north Austin. In one of the glassy cube buildings by the expressway she saw the DataMarvel logo, a bursting star. She pulled into DataMarvel’s parking lot.
She orbited the lot, looking for a spot. She found one and parked in a visitor slot. Being closer to the building, she could see a security desk in the lobby. You couldn’t just waltz in and get up to Jake Curtis’s office.
Over the next ten minutes she sat thinking how she could approach him, considering and discarding approaches:
I’m not really into trivia like I said. I’m into what happened to your missing wife. I’m working with a noted crime blogger named Reveal…
Hi, your missing wife was sort-of friends with my missing mom. Money was involved. Secrets were shared. Do you know what those were…?
I know your mother-in-law, and she thinks you’re a murderer…
I know something the police don’t know about your wife’s case…
It all sounded crazy. He’d slam a door in her face. She needed…
Andy Candolet. Walking out the front door, a briefcase in hand.
Andy was staring down at his phone, texting rapidly. Mariah got out of the car. He glanced up at her as he walked.
“Hi,” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“I had an appointment,” he said after a moment. Still staring at her. Then his smile came back.
“With Jake Curtis?”
“There are a few other companies in that building.”
“Of course.” What a giant coincidence, she wanted to say. One she didn’t believe. And he didn’t say no.
They were both silent, like two hunters who surprise each other in a field, neither wanting to turn a back or step away from their path. He’s lying to you, right to your face. What is going on with all these people tied to Bethany? What are they hiding?
“I owe you specs for your bid,” he said. “Sorry I haven’t sent them. I’ve been busy and I’m sure you are, too.”
“Are you really going to entertain a bid from me?” She immediately regretted the choice of verb.
“Yes, I said I would and I meant it. I know you’ve been busy helping Mrs. B. I didn’t want to bug you. How is she?”
“Upset.”
“I’ll check on her later. I take it you’re here to see Jake. I’m surprised he gave you an appointment.”
“Well.” She didn’t elaborate.
“I think you should steer clear of him.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think you’re going to get answers here. Jake doesn’t remember much of the day Bethany left, he says. Every detail of that day when I heard she was missing is burned into my head. There’s something wrong with that guy.”
She decided to play a card. “I found an email from my mom to you. Do you not remember?”
“No,” he said, uncertain, the smile gone. “I didn’t know her.”
“After you met her at WebCon.”
“Oh. Well. After WebCon I probably got three hundred emails from vendors.”
“She said you met there.”
“‘Met’ probably meant she introduced herself and handed me a business card in the middle of their trade show booth. Repeat that three hundred times and you get my point.”
“She and Bethany went out for drinks at least four times. Did Bethany ever mention her to you?”
“Not that I recall. I wasn’t friends with most of Bethany’s friends.”
“She saw you, and I think it was more than that once. She had a nickname for you. Andy the Candy.”
He blushed and frowned. “That is an old nickname an ex of mine called me that Bethany thought was hilarious. She used to tease me with it.”
That made a weird kind of sense. Mariah felt her own face redden.
He let out an exasperated sigh. “I told you I didn’t know your mom, that was the truth. Did I email her back?”
“No,” she admitted.
“OK, Mariah. That’s all there is to it, then. I wish I could help you.”
“The money Bethany was accused of embezzling, tell me about that.”
He laughed and shook his head. “You know I’m the security head for Ahoy, right? Do you think I hand out privileged information about corporate finances?”
“She was accused. The company said they dropped the charges. She quietly left. So, did Ahoy find their money? Or did you settle with her?”
“I can’t talk about this stuff. It’s confidential.”
“You know Bethany thought you took it. She said so in an email to my mom.”
He took a long, deep breath. “If I tell you what happened, please don’t tell Mrs. B. Please. It would crush her.”
She waited.
“I didn’t take the money. It’s ridiculous to think I’d steal from my own family. Bethany did. It was the first time she tried to leave Jake. My theory is she wanted cash, but she didn’t want to touch their accounts, have him notice their money was gone. But then she decided not to leave him, and Claudette found the money was missing, and it was all terribly awkward. I nearly lost my job because I’d defended her. She agreed to resign and to return the money.”
“And you don’t want this known why?”
“Because I don’t want Mrs. B to know her daughter’s a thief. And I don’t want Julie to know I risked my whole career to help Bethany. There. You got me.”
“Claudette doesn’t strike me as understanding. Why didn’t she press charges?”
“She got her money back, and I begged her not to prosecute. End of story.” Andy shook his head and moved his briefcase from one hand to another. “I like you. I want to be your friend. But this has nothing to do with your mom, and it’s none of your business. Good luck. I have to go.”
She watched him walk to his car—a nice BMW—and get inside without glancing back at her. She had picked up the thread but into something she didn’t understand. This strange web of relationships between the people close to Bethany—her friends, her parents—and those on the periphery of her life: this Lizbeth, maybe Yvette Suarez.
And then she realized. He’d lied to her face. Right to her face.
After WebCon I probably got three hundred emails from vendors.
She said you met there.
“Met” probably meant she introduced herself and handed me a business card in the middle of their trade show booth. Repeat that three hundred times and you get my point.
She hadn’t told him her mother was a software sales rep. Had she told Julie? She hadn’t thought so. Maybe Julie had looked up her mother’s case. Maybe he had, after last night. And yes, conferences were for meeting people. But he was so sure he hadn’t.
Or maybe it was a slip. A mistake. A crack in his façade when confronted with the email.
As his BMW pulled out of the lot, she thought, I’m going to crack you, too.
She went into the lobby and approached the desk. “Hi. I’m here to see Jake Curtis at DataMarvel.”
The security guard gave her a neutral look. “Your name?” He glanced at a screen, where there was apparently a list of expected visitors.
“Mariah Dunni
ng, but I don’t have an appointment, I won’t be on your list. I have information about his wife, who went missing.”
The guard looked at her. “Don’t you people have anything better to do than bother a nice guy like Mr. Curtis?”
“I’m not a crank, sir.”
“Get out of here,” the guard said.
“Do people do that…show up offering him information?”
The guard frowned. “Yes, and always for a price. What are you charging?”
“Nothing. Because I actually do have information. May I leave a note for him with you then?”
“You can write a note and I will put it in an envelope with his name on it. Whether he opens it or puts it in the shredder is up to him.”
She opened her purse, found her planner, tore out a blank page of lined paper. She went to a leather-covered bench, more for decoration than sitting, and she wrote on it: My mom and your wife were friends and they’ve both gone missing. Within six months of each other. I don’t think this could be a coincidence. Will you talk to me? I don’t want anything from you except information that might help us find them both. And after a moment she added: We can always talk about Martin Van Buren if you prefer. She wrote her phone number. She gave it to the guard.
He nodded and then she left.
She didn’t notice the other car, the driver turning off a phone, pulling out after her, following her at a distance.
28
MARIAH DROVE SOUTH to the Starbucks in Lakehaven where she’d gone before to inspect the emails on the flash drive. The café was now crowded, nearly every table and chair full. She was standing in the line of people, half of whom seemed to be studying their phones, wishing that Jake would call her, when she heard the whisper: “That’s her. With the dark hair. She covered up for her father killing her mom.”
She could be very still. She could ignore it. She had ignored it before, usually when Dad was with her, and she’d see someone nearby saying, “Well, I guess she made her choice” or “She’s protecting him.” Usually a glare silenced the critic.
