Little Secrets - Jennifer Hillier Page 0,108

she were told, I doubt Sharon would remember. Her Alzheimer’s is v. advanced. I visit her in Yakima every other week at the assisted living center & sometimes she knows me, sometimes she doesn’t. It’s v. sad.

Yakima? Eastern Washington? That’s not far from the wineries.

The second comment is on its own. Pearl wrote, Kenzie is a lovely young lady & everybody here in Prosser is praying she’s found safe.

Prosser. She’s from Sal’s hometown? What are the chances?

Marin shifts in her chair, suddenly uncomfortable. Something about this doesn’t feel right. Marin had shown Sal a picture of McKenzie, and he hadn’t seemed to recognize her. Mind you, she’d been drinking heavily during that conversation, so her recollection might be fuzzy, but surely her best friend would have said something immediately if he’d recognized a girl from his hometown. He’s nineteen years older than McKenzie, and would have moved out of Prosser for college before she was born, but the town is so small.

Marin ponders it some more, feeling the connection of something about to form … but the thought slips away before she can tie it together.

And what does Derek know? Is he even aware that his lover of six months has disappeared, and that a missing persons report has been filed? It feels like things have officially ended between him and McKenzie, but still, how can he not know? Vanessa Castro’s words come back to her:… this makes two people in your husband’s life that have disappeared. Which makes him the common denominator.

Now that the police are involved, it’s only a matter of time before they question Derek. In fact, maybe she should give him a heads-up that they might be knocking on the door any day now. But that would mean admitting to her husband that she knows about the affair.

Marin wishes she didn’t know. She wishes she’d never found out. She wishes she’d never started this.

She goes into the App Store, finds the Shadow app, and reinstalls it on her phone. All she has to do is reenter her login and password at the prompt and confirm Derek’s phone number. This time, however, when the app asks her if she wants to shadow all of Derek’s contacts or only specific numbers, she selects “All.” Her husband’s a busy man, and Marin’s phone might very well blow up with notifications, but it’s possible McKenzie has another phone that she’ll use to contact Derek. Or maybe someone else will try to contact Derek about McKenzie.

Marin needs to know what her husband knows. And at some point, she needs to figure out what Sal knows.

A minute later, it’s done. Like the first time, she waits for it to sync, half expecting a flood of text messages from Derek’s phone to download, even though the app can only shadow in real time.

Nothing.

A tap on the arm makes Marin jolt, and she drops her phone onto her plate, where it lands with a clang next to her half-finished bagel.

“Sorry, Marin,” Veronique says with a laugh. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Just letting you know that your one thirty is here.”

Marin checks the time. It’s exactly one thirty. Shit. She doesn’t like to keep clients waiting, but she could use another ten minutes to mentally work through everything she’s just learned about McKenzie. There’s no way Sal doesn’t know her, or at least know of her. Prosser has a population of less than seven thousand. She could call him right now.

Or … maybe she could send a Facebook message to Pearl Watts, who clearly knows McKenzie and her mother. The woman would definitely know Sal and his family, as she’s a current resident of Prosser. Sal’s out there all the time.

She realizes Veronique is waiting for her to say something.

“Who’s my one thirty again?” Marin asks.

“Stephanie Rodgers.” The receptionist’s cheerful tone turns mock-ominous, and she raises an eyebrow ever so slightly.

Shit, again. Stephanie doesn’t like to be kept waiting. No client does, but some are more vocal about it than others.

Resigned, Marin logs out of Facebook and pushes her chair back. “I’m coming.”

She forces herself to make small talk after she greets her longtime client, but fortunately Stephanie is the chatty type who can carry a conversation all by herself. She’s originally from New Jersey (though she tells everyone New York), and she recently divorced a man twenty years older than she is. The marriage lasted less than five years. She and Marin float in similar social circles and get along well, though they

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