Chapters (62)
- Cover
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Chapter Twenty-six
- Chapter Twenty-seven
- Chapter Twenty-eight
- Chapter Twenty-nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-one
- Chapter Thirty-two
- Chapter Thirty-three
- Chapter Thirty-four
- Chapter Thirty-five
- Chapter Thirty-six
- Chapter Thirty-seven
- Chapter Thirty-eight
- Chapter Thirty-nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-one
- Chapter Forty-two
- Chapter Forty-three
- Chapter Forty-four
- Chapter Forty-five
- Chapter Forty-six
- Chapter Forty-seven
- Chapter Forty-eight
- Chapter Forty-nine
- Chapter Fifty
- Chapter Fifty-one
- Chapter Fifty-two
- Chapter Fifty-three
- Chapter Fifty-four
- Chapter Fifty-five
- Chapter Fifty-six
- Chapter Fifty-seven
- Acknowledgments [TK]
- Also by Wendy Walker
“I wanted to close the door on the truck with the missing taillight. I wanted to close the door on the chief. Move on to another truck. Another theory. Maybe the property with the fence.”
Nic looked closer at the receipt. It was for thirty-seven dollars and change. Billed from an auto parts store in Waterbury.
The item on the invoice was listed only as a number.
“That number,” Reyes explained, “it’s for a taillight bulb and cover—fitting a Chevy Silverado.”
Nic grabbed her phone and pulled up the photo of Chief Watkins’s truck.
“Watkins drives a Silverado,” she said, staring at the photo of the truck that may have picked up her mother. “You think he fixed it himself?”
“Yeah. Which means he knew someone saw him, saw the truck that night. Otherwise he’d have gone to the auto body shop right in town. And he didn’t drive that truck the whole time you and your father were here searching for your mother. I remember that now. I didn’t think much of it, but now . . .”
“Now it fits.”
“Which means,” Reyes continued the thought, “that Edith Moore probably did see your mother that night. She told her boyfriend she was going to New York to meet friends. Then came to see Kurt—maybe they’re lovers. The storm rolled in and she knew she had to get out of it so she didn’t get trapped here. So she waited until the last minute, then drove toward Route 7.”
Nic picked it up from there. “She saw Chief Watkins pick up my mother, but she thought nothing of it. Then the next time she saw Kurt, he mentioned the missing woman and she told him what she saw.”
“That could have been the next day or a few days ago. Look, Kurt Kent may be a loser bartender, but I don’t see him plotting such a complicated crime. It could be that everything Edith Moore said is true, except for the small detail that she was here visiting Kurt before the storm.”
“What about the purse? And the letters?”
“She could have seen them. We can’t know without recreating the scene.”
“And Watkins?” Nic asked now.
“I know . . .”
“What did he do with my mother?”
Reyes started the ignition and pulled away from the curb.
“Let’s find out,” he said. “First, we get your car. Then we find the chief and ask him straight up what’s going on.”
Nic felt a wave of relief.
Reyes was right about everything. Kurt Kent was not a bad man. Edith Moore was just lying to her boyfriend, that was all. Maybe she had come forward as soon as she found out about Nic’s mother—or maybe she waited to make sure she was the one to get the reward money. But either way, it didn’t mean they knew where her mother was. Only what Edith Moore had seen.