“No,” Jake said.
“It’s true,” Kat said.
Jake looked at Kat, then at his grandfather.
“It’s true, Jake,” Vince said.
Jake’s breathing quickened, his face crumpled, and he began crying.
“Listen to me,” Greg said. “I need you to listen. We’re going to find her.” Greg held Jake tight, looking at Kat and Vince. “Son, I looked all night. Then Aunt Kat, Grandpa, me, a whole bunch of people looked all day. Police are helping. They’re using a helicopter.”
“A helicopter?” Jake said. “Is Mom dead? Isn’t that what they use a helicopter for? To find a dead person? Did somebody kill Mom?”
“No, no, honey, of course not!” Kat said, rushing to Jake, dropping to her knees before him, rubbing his legs. “It’s just that people are searching, people are looking, right now. The news is out there for people to help find her, and we’re going to find her, Jake.”
Vince joined them, patting his grandson’s back.
“You’ve got to be strong, Jake,” Vince said. “Hang tough. We’re going to find your mom.”
Wiping at his tears, Jake pulled away, his expression changing as he looked at his father, aunt, and grandfather. Sniffling, his eyes narrowed and his face hardened when he arrived at a cold thought.
“You’re lying!”
“No,” Greg said.
“Yes, you are!” Jake broke free, stepping away from the adults. “You’re getting a divorce!”
“What? No!” Greg said.
“Mom moved away and you’re just saying this to trick me!”
“Jake, no, honey,” Kat said. “Nobody’s getting divorced.”
“My friends’ parents got divorced, and they said their mom and dad lied about lots of stuff! I heard you and mom fight about money and talking about moving to Arizona and stuff. I think she got mad because she didn’t want to move away and wanted a divorce!”
“Oh God no, Jake, we were only talking about maybe moving to Arizona. She wasn’t mad. It’s complicated grown-up stuff.” Greg reached out for Jake, but Jake stepped back. “Son, listen, Mom’s missing. We don’t know why and that’s the truth. I wish to God it wasn’t.”
“You’re all lying!”
Jake fled the room, tearing up the stairs with jackrabbit speed. Greg followed Jake as he raced through the kitchen, calling for his mother.
“Mom!”
Then Jake ran through the house, to the door to the garage, opening it to look for Jenn’s car.
It wasn’t there.
“Mom!”
Jake then ran back through the house, flying up the stairs to his parents’ bedroom.
“Mom!”
He searched their closet. Her clothes and suitcases were there. He looked in their bathroom. Her makeup and hairbrushes were there. He looked in the other upstairs bathroom, the bedrooms, every closet, every storage room, calling for Jenn before standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at Greg.
“Come down, son. Please.”
“No! You’re a fucking liar!”
Jake had never cursed and hearing it, with the anguish in his voice, was another piercing for Greg.
“Son, please come down.”
“No! Liar!” Jake shouted then ran to his room, slamming the door behind him.
Greg started up the stairs after him before Kat tugged on his wrist.
“Let me handle this one, Greg,” she said. “He needs time to absorb this. I’ll talk to him.”
Greg raked his fingers through his hair and nodded.
Ten
Buffalo, New York, Trailside Grove
Greg was confident Kat could calm Jake down.
Over the years, she had watched him more times than Greg could remember, often at the last minute when they couldn’t find a sitter. Here was Kat, coming through again when he needed her. Greg left the stairs with his thoughts scattered, and he returned to the basement where his father was trying to decipher the remote.
“Where’s Jake? How’s he doing?” Vince asked, staring at the TV screen, scrolling through commands.
“In his room. Kat’s talking to him.”
“He’s going to need time. I forget—how do I get this back on the TV?”
Greg took the control, switched the mode, muted the sound, then showed his dad how to surf channels, which Vince liked to do.
In the time that followed, Greg’s phone rang, chimed, and vibrated with calls and messages of support from Jenn’s friends, including updates from state trooper Rob Menza and watch captain Doug Tucker. Greg responded to as many as he could as Vince flipped through channel after channel. Everyone who’d contacted Greg was going all-out helping, or was searching, or was hopeful, or was praying, or was thinking of Jenn, Jake, and Greg.
But no one had discovered a single piece of information pointing to where Jenn was.
Suddenly her face appeared on the TV screen, over a graphic that said:
SEARCH FOR MISSING WOMAN
Greg took the control from Vince and turned up the volume on a Buffalo news channel report in time to catch the anchor saying: “...Jennifer Griffin, a thirty-six-year-old woman reported missing after attending a book club meeting in the Ripplewood, Trailside Grove area. According to police sources, it’s too early to say if foul play is suspected in the case...”
The report showed the video recorded by the reporter from the Bulletin. There was footage of the canvass in Ripplewood, the helicopter, then Greg looking drawn and exhausted, talking to the reporters. A graphic below gave his name and the words HUSBAND OF MISSING WOMAN.
“What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know. A breakdown, a carjacking. I don’t know...”
The camera cut to the news anchor who said: “The search for Jennifer Griffin continues and anyone with information is asked to contact police... In other news, the fifty-million-dollar redevelopment project set for...”
Greg’s chest tightened. He muted the TV and leaned forward.
“Foul play?” Greg cursed. “I don’t know what to do, Dad.”
Vince picked up the control and switched off the TV.
“That’s the way they report these things,” Vince said. “You hang on, do not lose faith. We’re going to find her.”