as my own.
I took out my phone and pressed his number.
“Are you all right, buddy?” he asked, answering after a few rings, his voice scratchy from waking up.
I used my shoulder to hold my cell against my face and started looking through the pile of folders on the side of his desk. “Where do you keep your old files?”
He yawned. “Which one?”
Not having luck there, I switched to a new section, checking the names on those. “The young girl who went missing from Dorchester several months ago.”
“Bottom drawer, right side. Last name is—”
“Mills,” I said, bending down to be eye-level, sifting through until I reached the Ms and found hers.
I took it out, and a picture of Mills was stapled to the inside flap, all of Rivera’s notes written below.
“Holy fuck,” I whispered, my brain on overdrive, my hands shaking so hard that the file was vibrating. “It was her.”
“Who was her?” He waited for me to answer, and when I was too busy reading through the notes, he added, “Speak, Flynn. It’s too early for me to try to guess what the fuck you’re talking about.”
Fifty-Four
Before
Ashe
“What other information can you give me?” the detective asked Gran and me while he sat on the couch in her living room, looking at the small pad he’d been taking notes on.
I’d gone over every detail in my head, repeating each of those thoughts to the detective the moment he’d walked inside her apartment.
The pieces I didn’t know, like when Pearl had left my place upset and gone home, Gran had filled in those blanks. She’d told the detective that when Pearl returned that night, they’d had a brief conversation, Pearl never mentioning that she was going to New York alone. She then went into her room and packed and said good night. The next morning, she’d stopped by Gran’s bedroom to kiss her good-bye, telling her that she’d left the information of the hotel on the table.
Before I’d called the police, I’d phoned her agent, Brett Young, and asked if he’d heard from Pearl. He’d confirmed what I feared—that he hadn’t spoken to her since the day prior to when she was supposed to leave and that Pearl hadn’t shown up to any of her auditions.
I’d told all of that to the detective as well, and that was where our knowledge came to a screeching halt.
We knew nothing more.
I dug my fingers into my scalp. “I can’t think of anything else,” I said to him.
The detective looked at Gran. “How about you?”
“Please find my granddaughter and bring her home to me,” she replied.
He shut his notebook, placing it on the inside of his jacket. “The first forty-eight hours are crucial in missing persons cases. Normally, that’s the window in which they show up—sleeping off a bender, finding cash to use a pay phone, realizing they stayed the night at a place they shouldn’t have been at and they come running home.”
“That’s not Pearl,” I informed him, sitting up from the floor. “She’s not that person you’re describing.”
He looked at me and said, “Since this case has passed the forty-eight-hour mark, I would say things look a bit more serious. My team and I will start by retracing her steps.” He leaned forward, rubbing his hands together, like he was washing them at the sink. “We’ll send out a report, letting all local and state officials know that she’s gone missing. We’ll speak to the bus station and the hotel, every place we can think of in between. I have both of your numbers, and I’ll follow up when I have some information.”
My stomach was in a fucking knot, my arms wrapped around it, trying to alleviate some of the aching. “What do you think happened to her?”
He shook his head. “There’s no way for me to speculate.”
“Will you find her?”
I had been hesitant to ask this question in front of Gran, but we needed answers.
And hope.
“I’ve been doing this a long time.” He glanced down. “Every case is different, and many still surprise me.”
“What does that mean, Detective?”
His stare was haunting when he replied, “It’s been over four days without any contact. The statistics aren’t in your favor at this point.”
“She had everything going for her,” Gran said, the emotion clear in her voice. “A big move to New York, a career on Broadway.” She dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “She was going places, making a name for herself.”
He nodded impatiently, standing from the couch. “We’ll do everything we can.”
“I don’t