“You sold your eggs?” Ellery said.
Jenna winced. “You make it sound so cold. Transactional. I donated a few eggs so that someone else could have a child. The clinic harvests a bunch of them, but there are rules about how many times they can be used. You don’t get to find out if your eggs are chosen, let alone whether they turn into an actual baby. I’d always wondered, especially when I got pregnant with Izzy, if I had other kids running around out there someplace. I didn’t think about that part when I gave up the eggs. I just needed the money so bad, and I liked the idea that I’d be helping people who couldn’t have a child of their own.”
“And you believe Chloe is one of those children.”
Her blue eyes, the same unusual shade as Chloe’s, widened at Ellery. “Of course. Don’t tell me you don’t see it. You’re the ones who practically broke my door down thinking Izzy was Chloe.”
“There’s a resemblance,” Dorie acknowledged. “But a lot of girls look alike. We’ve had more than two dozen calls per day from people who think they’ve spotted Chloe somewhere.”
“It’s her. She’s mine.” Her chin lifted in defiance.
“How did you find her?” Ellery tried a different tack.
“Pure coincidence. She was on local TV about a year ago—part of a group of kids who won the right to play at Symphony Hall. They gave her name and the town where she lived, so I looked up her family. The Lockharts are older parents, just the kind who would’ve been using the clinic I went to. Teresa was in her forties when she gave birth to Chloe.”
Ellery didn’t challenge her logic for the moment. “Okay, you saw her on TV and looked her up. Then what?”
Jenna started picking at the label on the water bottle. “I told myself to let it go. I said this is what I’d wanted, to know my kid was happy and taken care of by parents who loved her. But—I don’t know. I’d always wanted a big family. Four kids, maybe five. I started young, so I figured time was on my side. But I nearly bled out during birth with Michael. The doctors repaired the damage, but they said it would be dangerous to get pregnant again. I wondered if maybe God was punishing me somehow for giving away my kids early.”
“You didn’t give up your kids,” Ellery said. “You gave up eggs.”
“At least one of them turned into a kid. One who looks just like Izzy.” Her eyes swam with tears, begging Ellery for understanding. “Once I knew she was out there, I thought about her all the time. I decided I would drive to Boston and get a better look. To satisfy myself that she was really okay.”
“How did you find her?” Dorie asked gently.
“She goes to public school. It was easy enough to find out which one. I pretended to be a parent moving to the area and I asked for a tour. I knew it was crazy. I just wanted to be closer to her. We saw her in the art room. She was making a paper-mache parrot.”
“Did you talk to her? Interact in any way?”
“Of course not. The guide was standing right there. The room was full of kids.”
“Okay, so what did you do next?”
“I went home and tried to forget about her. But I just couldn’t. I told myself I’d find a way to talk to her, just say hi, and that would be enough.” Her rueful expression said she realized how her goals kept shifting, expanding into more contact with Chloe. “We don’t have the same vacation breaks as the kids in Massachusetts, so I started using my free time to go wait outside her school. I saw that the nanny was sometimes late picking her up. Traffic, maybe. I don’t know. Chloe would be waiting by the fence by herself, looking annoyed. One of the times I saw her standing there, I just did it. I got out of my car and went to talk to her.”
“What did you say?” Ellery asked, genuinely curious.
“I told her I liked her shoes.” She smiled. “They were red leather booties with black trim. I get my kids’ stuff from Target. You could tell these weren’t off some discount rack.”
“What did Chloe say?”
“She said thanks. I told her I had a daughter who looked like her. She seemed interested, so I showed her a picture of Izzy on my phone. She was surprised. She said something like, ‘That could’ve been me in fifth grade.’ I recognized her nanny’s car pulling up, so I said a quick good-bye and walked away.”
“That wasn’t your last contact with her, though, was it?” Dorie asked.
She shook her head slowly. “I know I should’ve left well enough alone. I know it. If I hadn’t gotten involved with her, she might not be missing right now.”
“What do you mean?” Ellery asked.
“I went back to see her again a few weeks later. I said I thought we could be related and I gave her a cell phone so that we could talk. She’s smart, though. She didn’t just take it without asking questions. She pushed me on how we could be related, so I had to tell her. I said I thought I could be her biological mother.”
Ellery tried not to show any sort of shock or disapproval. This was Dorie’s admonition to her from the start—show compassion even for the worst of sins if you want people to keep talking. Still, she imagined twelve-year-old Chloe faced with this adult woman claiming to be her mother and felt it had to come as a verbal assault. They tell kids not to take candy from strangers or get in a car with someone they don’t know. No one gives you a road map for some kook who says she’s your mom and, by the way, here’s a free cell phone.
“How did Chloe react to that news?” Dorie asked.
“She said—she said it explained some things. Later, when we were texting, I asked her what she meant by that. She said her mother treats her like she’s a precious painting or artefact that should be locked away, like a possession and not a person. I realized that maybe Chloe’s life hadn’t turned out so perfect after all. She seemed … well, miserable. Her parents work all the time, but they won’t let her get out of the house and do stuff.”
“According to our notes, Chloe does piano, soccer, and dance.”
“I mean to spend time with friends. Didn’t you have friends as a kid? People you hung out with at the mall? Or, you know, went to the park with just to kick rocks around?”
“Do your kids kick rocks?” Ellery wanted to know.
“They have friends,” she replied firmly. “I don’t keep them prisoner in their own home.”
“Maybe the Lockharts were concerned about strangers giving their daughter an unapproved cell phone,” she said.
Jenna held up her hands. “Okay. Okay, I deserve that. I’m just saying—Chloe didn’t seem all that happy at home. She complained about her mother all the time.”
“I think that’s in the thirteen-year-old’s handbook,” Dorie remarked dryly.
Ellery tried to remember her feelings for her mother at thirteen. Guilt. Pity. Disgust. Simmering with anger at the father who’d left them and the mother who’d stayed but couldn’t fill that hole, emotionally or financially. Ellery had vowed to be nothing like Caroline Hathaway. She would have no philandering husband, no kids to work herself to the bone to feed and clothe. She was surprised how strong those feelings still were, how they came whooshing up like hot air from a sidewalk vent.
“This was different,” Jenna insisted. “She was lonely.”
“Okay, she was lonely,” Ellery said. “What did you suggest to fix it?”
“I didn’t plan to kidnap her, if that’s what you’re thinking. I tried to listen to her, to be a friend.”
“The day she disappeared, Chloe left the Public Garden. She abandoned her usual cell phone and apparently took the one you gave her. CCTV footage shows she boarded the T heading into the city. Do you have any idea where she might have been going?”
Jenna bit her lip. “Was she coming to me, you mean?”
“I mean did she say anything to you that might indicate where she was headed that afternoon?”
“That morning, she said she had a surprise for me. I asked for a hint, but she wouldn’t give me one.” She swallowed with effort. “We had talked about how the commuter rail train on the T runs
from Boston to Providence.”
“Did you make plans to spend time together in person?”
“I said maybe one day.” She bowed her head. “I wanted her to know my kids. I thought if I waited until she was older, she’d have more freedom. It would seem less like…”
“Like interfering with the custody of a minor?” Ellery couldn’t keep the judgment out of her tone. This woman thought all about herself and nothing about how confusing it would be for Chloe to have this second-mother possibility foisted upon her.
“We just texted most of the time. That’s all. I gave her some money.” She bit her lip. “More than I should, probably. It’s not like she needed more stuff. I just—I wanted her to like me.”
“Why didn’t she tell the Lockharts about you?”
Jenna flushed a deep red. “I said it should be our secret for now. That Teresa’s feelings might get hurt if she knew we were in touch. I kept thinking, you know, that we should bring our relationship out into the open, but then it always seemed better just to wait.”
“Better for whom?” Ellery asked pointedly.
Dorie stepped in again, her voice more soothing. “You wanted the chance to build a rapport with Chloe. I can understand that.”
“Exactly.” Jenna nodded vigorously at Dorie. “We were getting to know each other. Besides, it was easy enough for Chloe to keep it quiet from her parents. They were never home.” She paused. “There was one thing, though, I did tell her to bring to her parents. She mentioned that one of her father’s friends was asking her to send him pictures of her. I said she should tell them immediately, but she was afraid they wouldn’t believe her.”
“Right,” Dorie said. “We heard about that.”
Ellery shifted in her seat, impatient at the retread. Stephen Wintour remained in a medically induced coma, his prognosis uncertain. There would be a line of prosecutors, both state and federal, waiting to get to him if he recovered. The Feds were combing through his electronic records now, looking for other pedophiles they could oust based on their interactions with Wintour. They had evidence that he’d shared some snaps he’d taken of Chloe, apparently without her knowledge. The monsters on the receiving ends of those photos had to be dragged out into the light for questioning, as it was possible one of them had been moved to abduct Chloe. Ellery was glad that particular job did not fall to her.
“I think I saw him once,” Jenna blurted. “Maybe.”
“Saw who?”
“The guy who was creeping on Chloe. One time, I was sitting in my car outside her school, waiting to see if I could catch her alone. But the nanny was on time that day. While I was waiting, I saw this guy idling in his car not far from me. I thought maybe he was a dad coming to pick up his kids. When Chloe appeared, he started to get out of his car. I noticed because I thought, oh, crap, it’s her father. But then the nanny appeared and the guy got back into his car. He didn’t seem interested in any of the other kids. We were both watching Chloe.”
“Did you get a good look at him?”
“He was on the other side of the street from me and wearing sunglasses. I don’t know if I’d recognize him again.”
Ellery used her phone to bring up a picture of Wintour. “Could it have been this man?”
Jenna took the phone and studied it. “I don’t think so. The guy I saw was younger. He drove off the same time I did, when Chloe went home with the nanny.”
“Did you get his license plate?”
“No. It was a dark-colored car. Blue, maybe black. I was busy watching for Chloe, so I wasn’t paying too much attention. I only thought about it afterward, when she said some guy was harassing her.” She placed her hands flat on the table. “Wait, are you saying this isn’t the same guy? There was another man after her?”
Ellery and Dorie looked at each other. “We’re going to need to see your text exchanges with Chloe,” Ellery said finally.
“Sure, fine, anything you want. I’ve been over them and over them myself since she went missing.” She swiped around until she found the correspondence with Chloe. “Here. It’s all there.”
Chloe’s last words showed up first on the screen, time stamped from the period when she and Mimi would have been at the street fair, right before she disappeared.:
My mom believes every 1 is a secret killer, but it’s not true. A woman with 2 little kids just tripped and dropped their lunch on the sidewalk. A guy helped her clean it up and bought new hot dogs for her. Ppl are way nicer than she thinks.
Also, I thought about sumthing last nite. If ur my bio mom then Trevor was never my bro. I mean, he wasn’t anyway bcuz he was killed b4 I was born, but now it turns out we’re not even related. I’m sorry for what happened 2 him. But it never had anything to do w/me.
24
Reed was met at the Lockharts’ door by Margery Brimwood. The tender skin under her eyes looked bruised and tired. He wasn’t certain, but he thought she might be wearing the same clothes she had on yesterday, and he wondered if she had been home, if the Lockharts had thought to dismiss her. Her young charge had vanished and now her “Mimi” spent hours drifting in this enormous house without purpose. “Martin is upstairs in the bedroom, but Teresa is in the living room with the captain and the others,” she told him as she prepared to lead the way.
He touched her shoulder and she flinched. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I’d actually like to speak with you for a few moments if I could. How are you holding up?”
She made a noise of disbelief. “Me? I’m fine. It’s not my child who is missing.”
“Yes, it is,” Reed said gently, and she teared up.
“It’s all my fault,” she said as she wiped at her face with the sleeve of her sweater. “I shouldn’t have let her go off like that. I keep waiting for Teresa to shout at me, to fire me. I deserve it. I thought her rules were insane, that they were stifling Chloe and making her unhappy. I thought I knew better than her own mother.”
“When Chloe returns, she’s going to need both of you.”
She leaned against the wall and looked at the ceiling. “I tried to resign. Teresa wouldn’t let me.”
No, Teresa wouldn’t let herself imagine a future when she didn’t need Chloe’s nanny. “I think that’s wise.”
She shook her head. “When the police came to my home, thinking Frank grabbed her, I got so angry. I thought the Lockharts sent them, because they’d called the cops out on me before. I didn’t realize it was the dry cleaner who accused him. I got a lot of stuff wrong, I guess.”
Ah, Reed realized. This was a confession of sorts. “It was you who phoned the tip line about Martin’s affair.”
She gathered the sweater around herself and shot him a guilty look. “I suppose you’re going to tell me I’m wrong about that, too. All I can say is that I saw them kissing a few weeks ago. They didn’t see me. No one here ever does, except for Chloe. It’s like a one-way mirror in this place. I guess that’s why I thought I had figured everything out.”
“You may have more information than you realize. When you pick up Chloe from school, what is your routine?”
She drew a shuddering breath. “Well, school lets out at two fifteen. I pick her up out front and take her to her lessons or back here.”
“Are you always on time?”
“I try to be.” Reed waited in silence while she sat on that equivocation. “Traffic can be unpredictable,” she added. Reed nodded but still didn’t say anything in reply. She huffed out a breath. “Okay, sometimes I’m a little late on purpose, but it’s because Chloe asked me to do it. She said it’s embarrassing being picked up by a nanny in front of her friends, like she’s some kindergarten baby. I figured what’s the harm? There’s teachers and parents and a ton of kids around. Nobody would be stupid enough to try anything right there in front of the school.”
Reed had noticed a pattern with Mimi’s care. “You let her go buy a pretzel by herself at the fair. You let her do her homework in another room at the YMCA.”
“Yes.�
� She blurted the painful word. “It’s my mistake. I know that now. They told me not to take my eyes off her, not ever. I followed that rule when she was littler. I swear I did. But she started fighting me on it tooth and nail these past couple of years, and I felt like maybe she had a point. How can you be your own person if someone else’s eyes are always on you?”
Reed thought back to his early childhood, when he’d wandered the fragrant, chattering woods at the back of his family’s estate. His mother was usually home but busy with her affairs. Lulabelle cleaned the house and clucked at him if he tracked dirt on her shiny floors. Clark and Henry tended the grounds and the garden. Sometimes they’d let him have the leftover dirt for mud pies, but mostly they waved and ignored him. He’d spent his days climbing trees and using his pocketknife to slice open pinecones, nuts, and berries or whittle sticks into swords. He walked barefoot over the slippery stones in the creek and caught frogs for company. The adults were around but not watching him, an invisible safety net. He could have choked on a berry or fallen out of a tree with hours gone by before anyone found him. Instead, he’d lived a thousand private adventures.
“I see what you’re saying,” he told Margery. “Let me ask you something else. Do you recognize this woman at all?” He used his phone to show her a blown-up picture from Jenna Desmond’s driver’s license.
The nanny held the phone with both hands, moving it up close to her face and then far away. She wanted to say yes, Reed could see. But she shook her head. “She looks like Chloe, if you want to know the truth. But I don’t know her. Who is she?”
“We’re still figuring that out,” Reed said as he tucked his phone away. “What about anyone else who might have been watching Chloe outside the school? Did you notice anyone paying special attention to her? Did she mention anything?”
Every Waking Hour Page 21
