Home > Every Waking Hour(52)

Every Waking Hour(52)
Author: Joanna Schaffhausen

“What did you say?” Ellery asked, genuinely curious.

“I told her I liked her shoes.” She smiled. “They were red leather booties with black trim. I get my kids’ stuff from Target. You could tell these weren’t off some discount rack.”

“What did Chloe say?”

“She said thanks. I told her I had a daughter who looked like her. She seemed interested, so I showed her a picture of Izzy on my phone. She was surprised. She said something like, ‘That could’ve been me in fifth grade.’ I recognized her nanny’s car pulling up, so I said a quick good-bye and walked away.”

“That wasn’t your last contact with her, though, was it?” Dorie asked.

She shook her head slowly. “I know I should’ve left well enough alone. I know it. If I hadn’t gotten involved with her, she might not be missing right now.”

“What do you mean?” Ellery asked.

“I went back to see her again a few weeks later. I said I thought we could be related and I gave her a cell phone so that we could talk. She’s smart, though. She didn’t just take it without asking questions. She pushed me on how we could be related, so I had to tell her. I said I thought I could be her biological mother.”

Ellery tried not to show any sort of shock or disapproval. This was Dorie’s admonition to her from the start—show compassion even for the worst of sins if you want people to keep talking. Still, she imagined twelve-year-old Chloe faced with this adult woman claiming to be her mother and felt it had to come as a verbal assault. They tell kids not to take candy from strangers or get in a car with someone they don’t know. No one gives you a road map for some kook who says she’s your mom and, by the way, here’s a free cell phone.

“How did Chloe react to that news?” Dorie asked.

“She said—she said it explained some things. Later, when we were texting, I asked her what she meant by that. She said her mother treats her like she’s a precious painting or artefact that should be locked away, like a possession and not a person. I realized that maybe Chloe’s life hadn’t turned out so perfect after all. She seemed … well, miserable. Her parents work all the time, but they won’t let her get out of the house and do stuff.”

“According to our notes, Chloe does piano, soccer, and dance.”

“I mean to spend time with friends. Didn’t you have friends as a kid? People you hung out with at the mall? Or, you know, went to the park with just to kick rocks around?”

“Do your kids kick rocks?” Ellery wanted to know.

“They have friends,” she replied firmly. “I don’t keep them prisoner in their own home.”

“Maybe the Lockharts were concerned about strangers giving their daughter an unapproved cell phone,” she said.

Jenna held up her hands. “Okay. Okay, I deserve that. I’m just saying—Chloe didn’t seem all that happy at home. She complained about her mother all the time.”

“I think that’s in the thirteen-year-old’s handbook,” Dorie remarked dryly.

Ellery tried to remember her feelings for her mother at thirteen. Guilt. Pity. Disgust. Simmering with anger at the father who’d left them and the mother who’d stayed but couldn’t fill that hole, emotionally or financially. Ellery had vowed to be nothing like Caroline Hathaway. She would have no philandering husband, no kids to work herself to the bone to feed and clothe. She was surprised how strong those feelings still were, how they came whooshing up like hot air from a sidewalk vent.

“This was different,” Jenna insisted. “She was lonely.”

“Okay, she was lonely,” Ellery said. “What did you suggest to fix it?”

“I didn’t plan to kidnap her, if that’s what you’re thinking. I tried to listen to her, to be a friend.”

“The day she disappeared, Chloe left the Public Garden. She abandoned her usual cell phone and apparently took the one you gave her. CCTV footage shows she boarded the T heading into the city. Do you have any idea where she might have been going?”

Jenna bit her lip. “Was she coming to me, you mean?”

“I mean did she say anything to you that might indicate where she was headed that afternoon?”

“That morning, she said she had a surprise for me. I asked for a hint, but she wouldn’t give me one.” She swallowed with effort. “We had talked about how the commuter rail train on the T runs from Boston to Providence.”

“Did you make plans to spend time together in person?”

“I said maybe one day.” She bowed her head. “I wanted her to know my kids. I thought if I waited until she was older, she’d have more freedom. It would seem less like…”

“Like interfering with the custody of a minor?” Ellery couldn’t keep the judgment out of her tone. This woman thought all about herself and nothing about how confusing it would be for Chloe to have this second-mother possibility foisted upon her.

“We just texted most of the time. That’s all. I gave her some money.” She bit her lip. “More than I should, probably. It’s not like she needed more stuff. I just—I wanted her to like me.”

“Why didn’t she tell the Lockharts about you?”

Jenna flushed a deep red. “I said it should be our secret for now. That Teresa’s feelings might get hurt if she knew we were in touch. I kept thinking, you know, that we should bring our relationship out into the open, but then it always seemed better just to wait.”

“Better for whom?” Ellery asked pointedly.

Dorie stepped in again, her voice more soothing. “You wanted the chance to build a rapport with Chloe. I can understand that.”

“Exactly.” Jenna nodded vigorously at Dorie. “We were getting to know each other. Besides, it was easy enough for Chloe to keep it quiet from her parents. They were never home.” She paused. “There was one thing, though, I did tell her to bring to her parents. She mentioned that one of her father’s friends was asking her to send him pictures of her. I said she should tell them immediately, but she was afraid they wouldn’t believe her.”

“Right,” Dorie said. “We heard about that.”

Ellery shifted in her seat, impatient at the retread. Stephen Wintour remained in a medically induced coma, his prognosis uncertain. There would be a line of prosecutors, both state and federal, waiting to get to him if he recovered. The Feds were combing through his electronic records now, looking for other pedophiles they could oust based on their interactions with Wintour. They had evidence that he’d shared some snaps he’d taken of Chloe, apparently without her knowledge. The monsters on the receiving ends of those photos had to be dragged out into the light for questioning, as it was possible one of them had been moved to abduct Chloe. Ellery was glad that particular job did not fall to her.

“I think I saw him once,” Jenna blurted. “Maybe.”

“Saw who?”

“The guy who was creeping on Chloe. One time, I was sitting in my car outside her school, waiting to see if I could catch her alone. But the nanny was on time that day. While I was waiting, I saw this guy idling in his car not far from me. I thought maybe he was a dad coming to pick up his kids. When Chloe appeared, he started to get out of his car. I noticed because I thought, oh, crap, it’s her father. But then the nanny appeared and the guy got back into his car. He didn’t seem interested in any of the other kids. We were both watching Chloe.”

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