Page 17 of The Vanishing Wife
“Your deduction skills are impressive.” Leigh took the cardstock sleeve with two hotel keys and waved goodbye to Mona. The weight of her duffle was starting to pull at the incisions in her midsection, but she wasn’t helpless enough to ask for one of the bellhops for help. It was only four floors. She could make it with the elevator. “What are you doing at my apartment?”
“Checking on you. You just had surgery. Thought I might bring you some takeout. Imagine my surprise when you’re not here to answer the door and your car is gone. Didn’t Dr. Wilson say you weren’t supposed to be on your feet for another few days?” Chandler said. “And what’s in Gulf Shores, Alabama?”
“Who told you I had surgery?” Leigh pulled up short of the elevators ready to take her to the fourth floor. Dr. Wilson had laid out her recovery with crystal-clear instructions. Rest in hospital for three days, take it easy for up to six weeks. No lifting of anything more than five pounds so as to let her abdominal muscles and tissues heal. Watch the incision sites for infection. Leigh had lasted two days in the hospital. Elyse had been there when she’d woken from anesthesia—just as her friend had promised when they’d scheduled the damn surgery—but had gone home to her own family in preparation of their annual family vacation. Against doctor’s orders and supervision, Leigh had checked herself out of the hospital to go home. Where she felt in the most control. That was a little over two weeks ago. What could’ve possibly happened to Elyse in that short amount of time? “Tell me you are not using bureau access to track my GPS.”
“I’m not using bureau access to track your GPS.” Her brother had always been such a smart-ass. That hadn’t changed despite losing an entire identity and creating a brand-new one after his abduction. “I am, however, using Find My Friends from my phone to locate yours. And to answer your question, you put me as your emergency contact on your hospital registration papers. One of the nurses called to check in on your recovery this morning when they couldn’t get a hold of you.”
Damn it. She should’ve predicted his behavior better. That was her job, for crying out loud, but they were still getting to know each other. She didn’t have enough data to make a prediction of what he would and would not do in certain circumstances. And she certainly hadn’t had the forethought to chart possible responses to her having surgery. It wasn’t as though the hysterectomy had come out of the blue. She’d had time to think about it and consider if the surgery was for the best, but with that time, the cancer kept replicating. She’d had to make the choice. She’d just been on her own for so long, she hadn’t considered telling Chandler or her father about it.
The truth was, they were still making up for lost time, and she didn’t want to disrupt that.
Exhaustion took on the properties of gravity, and she barely made it into the elevator before the doors closed. If Chandler even got a hint she was lying to him, he would dig deeper. He would ask Director Livingstone what case she was working on and tip off Leigh’s involvement with Gulf Shores PD. Detective Moore wouldn’t have any other choice than to send her back to Virginia with her tail between her legs and no updates on Elyse’s whereabouts. Worse, Chandler would reach out to their father, and she didn’t have the energy for that conversation.
Twenty years in prison had kept Joel Brody from raising his kids, so he’d taken to getting all of his advice—and lectures—out at once. Spending more money than you earn will only make you poor and land you in debt. Or, No one can make you angry, Leigh. That’s your choice. This after he’d called her boss, Director Livingstone, for a raise on Leigh’s behalf. Or her recent favorite: You’re using protection with your boyfriends, right? ’Cause you don’t want to end up single and pregnant. She’d nearly had to give herself the Heimlich maneuver after choking on a piece of chicken at that one.
“Leigh?” Her brother’s voice lost a bit of accusation and had slid into concern.
“I’m still here.” Leigh stepped off the elevator and into a geometric-designed hallway with too many patterns and colors. She loved her brother, and she loved her father, and there wasn’t a single moment she wasn’t grateful to have them back in her life after what their family had been through after Chandler had gone missing. But the addition came with a resistant adjustment she hadn’t seen coming. “I’m… looking for someone.”
“Does this have anything to do with that teen girl who went missing from Gulf Shores three weeks ago? The one police found this morning on the beach?” His voice had changed again. On the outside, Chandler had covered his arms and chest in tattoos to hide the scars of his childhood. He’d pierced his ears, bulked up, and carried himself in a manner that intimidated everyone he came into contact with as a federal investigator. But on the inside, he was still that twelve-year-old boy. The one who’d been taken from his family, tortured. Nearly killed. She could see it in his instant commitment to helping under-aged victims whenever possible. Despite being assigned to the case or not. Chandler didn’t wait for her answer. He’d already come to his own conclusion. “What do you need from me?”
“Nothing. I’m not even sure if the girl is connected to why I’m here.” Leigh located her hotel room and slid one of the keycards into the locking mechanism. It lit up, and she shoved inside. A wall of air conditioning provided a sliver of relief, but she couldn’t relax yet. The door automatically slammed closed behind her as she surveyed the clean, two-queen bedroom looking out over the gulf. “Listen, Director Livingstone believes I’m on medical leave for the next three weeks, and I want to keep it that way. At least until I have some things figured out. Understand?”
“I can handle her,” Chandler said. “But you’re the one who is going to have to explain why you’re in Alabama to Dad. He’s been looking forward to dinner tomorrow night all week.”
Shit. Leigh collapsed on the end of the nearest bed. She’d left in such a rush this morning, nothing else had existed but getting to Elyse. Sunday night dinners had become a tradition since Joel had been released, and it hadn’t even crossed her mind. “I forgot about dinner. I suppose I could remind him that no one can make him disappointed, that it’s his choice.”
“This is what we wanted, Leigh. We’re part of a family again.” Chandler’s laugh drained the violence peppered throughout her day. First, the pool of blood in Elyse’s house, then the body of Ruby Davis. He was right. Leigh had a glimpse of what it took to make a family work. Something she’d always wanted but didn’t know how to achieve. Especially now that she couldn’t have any children of her own. “It’s time we start acting like it.”
TWELVE
Gulf Shores, Alabama
Tuesday, September 17
11:43 p.m.
She was back on the trail.
Elyse understood now. What she’d been doing here the morning of the attack. How she hadn’t really been on a run. She’d come here. For information.
Lights inside the beach house on Mobile Street highlighted Samuel Thornton’s movements on the first level. In the kitchen, then in front of the TV. The tint on the windows did nothing this time of night. Giving her a perfect view inside.
As far as she could tell, Samuel Thornton lived alone. No wife, no kids. Internet searches hadn’t turned up much other than an out-of-date LinkedIn profile and a private Instagram account. Obviously, a private person.
A man who liked to keep secrets.
Elyse memorized the layout of what she could see of the living room. The double doors on the deck seemed to be the best way to get inside. Was that what she’d been doing on the deck yesterday morning? It seemed an entire lifetime ago. There were still holes in her memory, but pieces had started to slip through the cracks. What she couldn’t forget, however, was the sly smile Samuel Thornton had shot her this afternoon as Detective Moore guided her back to the trail. A knowing smile that would haunt her if she didn’t follow through with this plan.
Movement from inside the house brought her back into the moment.
Seemed Samuel was finally putting himself to bed. The brightness from the TV cut short, and he shoved free of his position on the couch. Gathering snack bowls and a half-empty potato chip bag, he headed for the kitchen at the back of the house. No access there. Just walls of windows providing the perfect view.
Except he wasn’t headed upstairs to the bedrooms on the top level. He diverted his path. Outside.
It was impossible to see her from this distance, but Elyse still found herself hugging the line of trees that opened onto the dunes a little closer. Just in case. She raised the flashlight she’d taken from her bedroom side table, ensuring the beam wouldn’t give away her position.
“This is where you’ve been disappearing to?” a voice asked from behind.