Page 13 of Little Girl Vanished

“What’s she doing here?” Vanessa’s mother demanded, pulling the girl on her lap closer, as though I was there to snatch her away. I suspected her reaction had more to do with her perception that I was a bad luck charm than my recent legal trouble. Mrs. Hogan had treated me like I was cursed after Andi’s kidnapping.

“I’m just here to check on Vanessa,” I said. “See if I can do anything to help.”

“We don’t need your help,” said the officer next to the living room. He was maybe in his early forties, with a bushy mustache over his upper lip and a heavy Southern accent that suggested he’d been born and raised here and rarely left.

He was old enough to have been part of the band of nitwits who’d bungled my sister’s case, and his response made it pretty damn clear he knew who I was. I could have been there to ask if the family wanted a casserole, not if they wanted additional investigative assistance.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Vanessa asked. Not bothering to wait for a response, she led the way to the dining room. “Let’s go get you one.”

I followed her through the room with four-foot-tall wainscoting and large pastoral oil paintings, through a butler’s pantry then into a kitchen that had been remodeled in the recent past. Massive white cabinets lined the ten-foot walls, with white marble counters and shiny stainless steel appliances. It looked like it was ready for photographers to show up and shoot for a decorating magazine cover. It definitely didn’t appear lived in.

Vanessa walked over to an espresso maker on the counter that looked like it was much better quality than mine…and that was saying something.

“We don’t have a regular coffee maker,” she said, her shaking fingers pressing the on button. “What kind of espresso drink would you like?”

“You don’t have to make me a drink, Vanessa,” I said. “I’m just here to check on you.”

She turned to face me, and it was then I noticed the small baby bump under her pale pink button-down shirt. She was pregnant, four or five months I’d guess.

“It gives me something to do. I need to stay busy.”

“Then just a latte,” I said, putting the island between us. “Tell me what’s happened. Mom told me that your daughter is missing.”

Fresh tears filled her bloodshot eyes. “The police say she ran away, but I don’t think she’d do that. Not after Andi.”

“I know,” I said past the lump in my throat. “Trust me, I understand.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she brushed it away. “I think you’re the only one who does.”

I tried to ignore the way my gut twisted. “When was the last time you saw her?”

“Last night. At dinner. She was upset because she wanted her cell phone to call her friend, and TJ wouldn’t let her have it. She stomped off to her room. Everything was fine when I went in to tell her goodnight around nine, but this morning when I went to get her up for school, her room was empty, and her window was open.”

“Where’s her room?”

“Upstairs.”

“Where is it in regard to the layout of the house? The front? The back? The side?”

Her hand reached up to the base of her neck and she began to play with her necklace. “The front.”

“So her window opens to the porch?”

“Yes, but there aren’t any stairs to the porch, and no one goes out there. It’s just for show.”

I nodded, but truth be told, I would have spent a lot of time on that porch when I was twelve. Andi and Vanessa would have too. The three of us would have made it our clubhouse. Was Ava that different? Or had Vanessa thought it didn’t matter? Or, more horribly, had she omitted it on purpose?

You’re here to offer support, not treat her like a suspect.

But I couldn’t help the small amount of doubt. I wanted to believe that Vanessa didn’t have anything to do with her daughter’s disappearance, but again, stranger abduction was extremely rare. That automatically made both of her parents suspects…whether they realized it or not.

“Do you have a home security system?”

“Yes. TJ turned it on last night around ten and only turned it off when we went outside to look for Ava.”

“And what time was that?”

She ran a hand over her head. “Around six.”