Abandoning the effort, his thoughts shifted to the issue of Porter Sellwin. Greg refused to believe Jenn would cheat on him with Sellwin.
Was my anger at him a reflection of my own lust? But when I pressed him on Jenn, he said, “I don’t know what Jennifer told you.” What was that?
Greg’s heart raced.
And those questions during the polygraph, about the life insurance policy on Jenn, my height, her Corolla, do I have a hoodie, did I have sex with Brooke... Did I argue with Jenn? Yes, I did. I lost it with her after playing football in the yard. I demanded to know why she was so damned cold and distant for the last few months. I couldn’t take it anymore. Jenn had tears in her eyes but wouldn’t tell me. She walked away. I was so angry I grabbed her hard. I never hit her but in the heat of the moment I was rough.
A blood rush roared in his ears with the monstrous truth before him.
My wife is missing!
“Dad, are you coming?” Jake stood at the top of the stairs. “Come up and see.”
Greg went upstairs where the disarray continued with sooty blotches on doors and walls. Police had rifled through closets and dressers. Jake was on the floor of his own room. Next to him: a box and several metal pieces.
“See, I found it. Mom’s new Christmas decoration thing.”
Lowering himself, Greg looked at the ornamental pieces, including three winged angels with trumpets.
“I found it earlier. Mom hid it in the closet. I was worried the police would take it, but they didn’t.”
“Looks like an angel chime.” Greg picked up the cardboard box. It was the size of a hardcover book and contained no markings, no instructions.
“Will you help me put it together with the candles and make it work, Dad?”
“Let’s go to the kitchen.”
Greg gathered the pieces into the box, taking it to the kitchen table. As he began assembling the chime, he wondered why Jenn hid it, keeping it apart from the other Christmas stuff in the basement.
He began putting it together, the base, the arm, the windmill, the chime bells, the angels, and rods. He inserted the four white candles into the holders at the base.
The finished ornament stood about a foot tall.
“It looks good, Dad. Can you make it go?”
Greg got the butane lighter from a kitchen drawer, the one Jenn used to light the candles on Jake’s birthday cakes, and theirs too. He squeezed the trigger and lit all four candles. Within seconds, the heat from the flames caused the three angels to spin, the needlelike rods hanging from them striking the chimes, creating a gentle tinkling in a mesmerizing, glittery carousel.
“Why did Mom hide it?” Greg asked.
“I guess it was special.” Jake shrugged. “When she watched it, it made her smile, then she cried and put it away.”
“When did she get it?”
“I think a couple months ago. It came in a delivery at the door.”
Greg was perplexed, listening and watching the angels. Why would Jenn hide the chime? He glanced up to the smoke detector and sprinkler head. And why would she get something powered by flames when she had an aversion to fire? Greg watched Jake, seeing the candlelight sparkling in his eyes. He’d seemed to find comfort in the chime’s connection to his missing mother while Greg grappled with the torment of being suspected of killing her.
“You know what I just did?” Jake said.
“No, what?”
“I just wished on the chime for Mom to come home.” The chimes tinkled. “Now, I know we’re going to find her. I just know it.”
Forty-Three
Manhattan, New York
Some four hundred miles from where Jake and Greg watched the angel chime, Eugene Bickersley was at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center, in Manhattan’s Upper East Side.
All the scans, tests, and second opinions had brought Bickersley to this point.
You live your life, love what you do, then at age forty-nine, fate knocks you to the mat and you’re staring at your own mortality. It’s foolish to believe we have any control over our lives, Bickersley thought.
Thirty percent.
That was the survival rate for what he had. He was scheduled for two surgeries in the weeks ahead, and Sloan Kettering was among the best in the world. The medical staff was in his corner, like everyone back in Buffalo at Tall Elm.
He turned to the flowers, balloons, cards, and notes from students, drawing strength from the support in a battle he wasn’t sure he could win. He squeezed his wife’s hand, smiling at her, knowing he’d be adrift without her. He heard her phone vibrate with another message.
“It’s Viv again,” Clara said. “Everyone at the school is sending you more good thoughts.”
Bickersley nodded, then asked: “Any news on Jennifer?”
“No. I’m sorry, Gene.”
He turned back to the TV, which played the movie The Treasure of the Sierra Madre on mute. With the help of Thelma and Vivian at the school, Clara had tried to shield him from Jennifer Griffin’s situation. He was dealing with so much, they didn’t want him to know that one of his school’s moms was missing.
It didn’t matter.
Bickersley had learned about it from a New York City TV news report he watched when Clara was out of the room.
Now he demanded updates.
Clara, and the others back in Buffalo, thought it was out of Bickersley’s concern for Jennifer.
His interest ran deeper.
Jennifer Griffin’s tragic situation had given him one more reason he needed to win his fight. But in his heart, he knew he had to brace for reality. He needed to make a critical decision.
Should I tell police what Jennifer confided to me, before it’s too late?
Forty-Four
Clarence, New York
What had come to be known as the Griffin task force came together early the next morning for a case-status meeting.
“We’ve got a lot to cover,” Lieutenant Phil Becker said to investigators. “You’ve got your summaries. Let’s get to it. Go ahead, Claire.”
Sitting upright as investigators from several agencies settled in, Kozak started. Again, she worked from her laptop, which was linked to the large screen on the wall at the end of the room.
“Off the top, as you can see, we have compelling elements pointing to Greg Griffin and Brooke Bollman. But it’s circumstantial at this stage, nothing solid, according to the Erie County District Attorney’s Office. We need more evidence and—this is key—we need to rule out all other possibilities.”