introduced to Officer Hanley, who will take her statement at a desk in a room with other desks. I am taken into a private room by Detective Abrahms. We sit at a table across from one another. Behind him is what is probably a two-way mirror, and I wonder if anyone is watching me.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
He puts a pad of paper and a pen on the table. “Your full name?”
“Chris Rewey. Uh, Christopher.”
“Mind if I have a look at your driver’s license?”
I take it out of my wallet and hand it to him. “Sir, can you please tell me what’s happening?”
“Your relationship to Ms. Evans?”
“Boyfriend.”
He makes notes and hands me back the license.
There is a notch in the table. A notch where one might hook handcuffs to keep someone restrained. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”
“That’s what I’m here to determine.”
I narrow my eyes. “Don’t you have to read me my rights or something if you’re going to question me?”
“Do I need to read you your rights?” he asks, features hard.
“No. Of course not.”
“I’ll start by getting your statement then. You are welcome to have a lawyer present when I take it.”
“Why would I need a lawyer? I told everything to one of the officers at the restaurant.”
He flips through the pad. “You said you were looking for Miss Evans because she didn’t show up at a concert?”
“That’s right.”
“Is there anyone who can corroborate your attendance at the event in the hours leading up to Miss Evans’s disappearance?”
“Only about three hundred people. I’m the lead singer for one of the bands that performed. I was there all afternoon leading up to the concert. Listen, if you think I had anything to do with whatever happened to her, I don’t. I’m her boyfriend. I love her.”
He raises his eyebrows at me.
I draw back. “And the boyfriend is always the chief suspect, huh?”
“You catch on quickly, son.”
He gets a call on his phone, stands up, and paces while listening, staring at me the entire time. Putting his phone down, he gazes at me with sympathy.
“What? Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”
“I just got word that you aren’t a person of interest in this case.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you don’t need a lawyer, and we’re not going to detain you.”
I stand. “Then I can leave.”
“Yes, but I’d appreciate it if you stayed. If you’re as close to Miss Evans as you say you are, you may have information pertinent to the case.”
“There’s a case?”
“We’ve confirmed she’s missing. It’s my job to determine if it’s voluntary or not.”
“As in she threw all the shit from her purse on the ground, left her car, and took off?”
He shrugs. “It happens more often than you think.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“How can you be sure?”
I contemplate not telling him, but I’m scared shitless and protecting our secret is the least of my worries. “Because she’s pregnant.”
“How far along?”
“Almost six months, but no one knows except the two of us and my mother.”
He makes more notes on the pad. “Who’s the father?”
“Who do you think? I am.”
He gives me a hard stare. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes. She’s never been with anyone else.”
“You’re certain there isn’t another man?”
My jaw clenches. “I’m positive.”
“What about a male family member? Are you aware of any history of abuse?”
“Abuse? No. That’s crazy.”
“So there’s no possibility she was sexually assaulted, which led to a pregnancy she’s trying to cover up? No possibility someone could have hurt her?”
“Why would anyone want to hurt—” Bile rises in my throat, and I swallow convulsively. “Oh, shit.”
“What is it?”
“There’s a man Abby used to work with. He’s older than we are. He liked her to the point of being stalkerish. He got fired but still came to the restaurant to talk to her. I was there when he came in last week. I confronted him and told him to fuck off. He was pissed, but he left.” The blood leaves my face. “You think he could have taken her?”
“His name?”
“Rob. I don’t know his last name. He’s in his thirties, I think. He works at a gas station now. Her manager can tell you his full name.” I groan. “This is all my fault, isn’t it?”
“How could it be your fault, son?”
“Because I told him to fuck off. I told him if he ever came near her again, I would hunt him down and” —I scrub my hand across my face— “…kill him.”