Page 33 of The Vanishing Wife

The phone she’d taken from Poppy Slater’s bedroom shocked her back into the moment with a distinct ringing. Elyse reached to silence it as fast as she could, but it was too late. Ava had heard it. She hit one of the side buttons to quiet the ring tone and looked straight at her daughter. “I love you. You know that, don’t you? No matter what. I will always love you.”

Ava’s gaze rose from the desk, like she could see right through it, and pasted on that half smile she’d been prone to using the past few days. The one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and Elyse found herself missing that younger version of her daughter. The one whose entire world hadn’t been ripped out from underneath her. “I know, Mom. I love you too.”

Her daughter shuffled free of the office and back across the hall as the phone vibrated in Elyse’s hand. A click of a door told her Ava had gone back to her room. When this was over, when they were home, they would find a good marriage and family therapist. They would figure this out. Together.

Elyse flipped the phone over in her hand. A video chat request.

Only this wasn’t a profile she’d interacted with yet. The request hit its limit, and the screen returned her to the full inbox of messages meant for Katie Rose. Elyse targeted the circle icon of the video requester. I’m in Gulf Shores too. Want to meet up? You’re going to love my beach house. There was a photo of the house, and Elyse’s body contracted. She knew that house. Had been inside that house. It was more real and visceral to her than the fifteen-year-old she’d created out of thin air.

Elyse had a choice, her thumbs poised over the screen.

She could shut down the account and go back to her life as a physician’s assistant for Dr. Wilson. She could focus on Ava and hire that divorce attorney. They could move on. They’d find a place of their own and have movie nights and heartbreaks and rolls and rolls of unbaked cookie dough. She could have everything she’d ever wanted. Without worrying about whether or not Wesley was cheating on her, if he was coming home, or wondering why he was late yet again. She’d help Ava prepare for college applications and take her on campus tours all over the country, if that’s what her daughter wanted. They could do this. They could be happy.

But would Ava ever feel safe?

The decision was made before Elyse had a chance to realize it. She double-tapped the image, and a heart appeared in the corner. Can’t wait.

The screen went dark with another incoming video request. And she couldn’t ignore it this time. Elyse secured her hoodie over her head, brought her hair into her face, and angled the phone to her shoulder.

She answered the video call.

“I can’t see you,” a deep voice said. Light ear-length hair, a straight, wide nose, and blue eyes registered so clearly on the screen. He leaned in closer, trying to get a better view of her, but she was in control of their interaction this time. She took a screenshot. “Don’t be shy.”

TWENTY-THREE

Gulf Shores, Alabama

Sunday, September 22

12:54 p.m.

“You’re not in any trouble, Ava.” Detective Moore took her seat along one side of the conference room table as Leigh closed the door to provide some semblance of privacy. “We just want to ask you some questions about your relationship with Saige Fuentes and Ruby Davis.”

“You don’t have to answer anything if you don’t want.” Wesley Portman hovered on the edge of the room, preventing his daughter from taking a seat. “We can leave right now. You just have to say the word. You don’t owe these people anything.”

“A girl’s life is at stake, Mr. Portman; another one is dead.” Leigh had spent years honing her patience into an art, but there were some things she just couldn’t let slip through the cracks. And as much as she wanted to blunt the truth when it came to Detective Moore and the brutal murder of her niece, they worked in fact. “Would you have the same response if Ava was one of them?”

Ava slipped into a seat with her father’s hand clenched on the back, a perfect clone of her mother. There was a difference in the length of their hair. Elyse preferred to wear hers shorter. Less work, she’d claimed, while Ava had let her hair grow well into the crook of her elbows. Ava, too, was much thinner than her mother. A natural birthmark above her lip interrupted fair, unblemished skin. How the girl had managed to get through her teenaged years without a zit was beyond unfair. Her voice set her apart from Elyse in a whole new way as well. Timid. Unreachable almost. “What do you want to know?”

Wesley Portman sank into his own chair. Defeated, yet supportive, Leigh supposed. He’d taken the time to shower and dress for this meeting. Presumably in a hotel room he’d checked into after that first night of sleeping in his SUV. But where was Ava staying?

“How long have you known Ruby Davis?” Detective Moore asked.

Leigh would give the detective marks for keeping her voice even on her niece’s name.

“I don’t. Not really.” Ava buried her hands in her lap and stared down at the table. “She was friends with Saige. I only met her last year when we used Saige’s mom’s keycard to get into the hotel pool a couple times in the middle of the night, but we didn’t keep in touch when I went back home. We follow… We used to follow each other on social media. I can’t believe she’s dead.”

Used to. Because Ruby was dead now or because Ava had shut down her social media accounts?

“Me neither.” Detective Moore tried for a smile. “And what about Saige? How long have you known her?”

“Longer. A couple years,” Ava said. “I was at that ice cream place by the shore. Matt’s. I’d gotten my cone and turned around. I accidentally spilled it all over her. She could’ve yelled at me, but she didn’t. Told me not to worry about it and that she and her friend were on the way to the beach. They invited me to come along. I was with my mom. She let me go as long as I promised to be home by six that night.”

“Do you remember the friend’s name? The one who was with Saige at the ice cream shop?” Leigh wasn’t sure what good it would do, but the more connections they could establish between the girls, the higher chance they had of recovering Saige. Before it was too late.

“Poppy. She…” Ava took a deep breath. “Saige told me she died last year. I’d only met her a couple times.”

Leigh wasn’t familiar with that name. “Does Poppy have a last name?”