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Max opened the door to exit the station and was almost sucked through it by the wind. Good thing she didn’t care what her dark, frizzy hair looked like, though doubtless her mom would have plenty to say about it. She pulled out of the station and within a few minutes was on the freeway. The host on a radio talk show was describing her friend’s suicide and what a shock it was because nobody saw it coming. Just that morning Del had asked whether she thought Ella’s disappearance could be suicide. They’d both decided that it wasn’t, but really, what did they know? She decided not to think about it and listen to some music instead. She reached into the glove compartment for the CD Howard had put there.
“It’s a surprise,” he’d said when she left that morning. “It’ll put you in the holiday mood.”
As she pushed it into the CD slot, she looked up in time to see the overhead sign flash a warning for extreme caution on the Skyway Bridge due to heavy winds. She wasn’t surprised. She was gripping the steering wheel just to keep the car from swaying.
A cello played a melodious, soulful solo and for a moment she relaxed into it, enjoying the deep timbre of the instrument. Then the vocals came on and she felt her chest tighten. She wasn’t ready to hear this impassioned rendition of “Avinu Malkeynu,” one of the holiest songs for this Rosh Hashana holiday. As she listened to the yearning in Barbra Streisand’s voice, she felt a tug deep inside her. The music was beautiful and for a moment she could believe that sending up a prayer in this melodious form could really make a difference, that these age-old words that might free up the tightness that was always in her chest. Her reactions surprised her because in temple she’d never been moved by this hymn. Maybe it was because the cantor she grew up with was a stuffy old man who saw himself more as a star performer than a conduit for the community to reach any form of spiritual enlightenment. Or maybe she just carried too much baggage. Too many services that were long and boring and all she wanted to do was get the heck out. She switched the audio back from CD to FM and scanned the stations until she was blasted out with Beyoncé’s latest. Now that was something she could rock to.
She’d just started to relax when the next overhead sign appeared. This time the wording had changed. “Bridge closed due to heavy winds.” Shit. That meant she’d have to turn around and drive north all the way to Tampa and then cross the bay on 75. It would add over an hour to her trip and it meant that for sure she’d be late to her parents’. She’d texted them earlier to let them know Howard wasn’t coming and her mom had responded surprisingly well. No worries, we issued a last-minute invitation to a new couple, so his food won’t go to waste. Max had been glad to know it wasn’t going to be just the three of them, but her lateness was sure to throw a wrench in the works. If she called now, her mom would ask why she hadn’t left earlier since they’d been warning about the storm all day. Her mom would be right. She should have left extra time, especially considering the weather. But she’d wanted to arrive last minute and not have to sit with her parents drinking sherry and listening to temple gossip. She’d assumed she could make a reasonably straight run from the office to Naples. The one advantage to having holidays celebrated by a small minority of people in the country was that unlike Christmas or Thanksgiving, Jewish holidays didn’t cause heavy traffic.
Max pressed the button on her steering wheel to activate her virtual assistant. “Text mom. Problems on the freeway. Don’t wait dinner.”
A moment later her phone rang. She was about to ignore it when she realized it wasn’t her mom calling to berate her.
“I’ll be done sooner than expected,” Howard said. “I won’t be in time for dinner, but you want me to drive down and spend the night there with you?”
Her heart leapt at the thought of having Howard in her bed that night.
“I thought you had a job lined up for tomorrow?”
“I did. But it was Kyle’s customer. They canceled.”
She sighed. The cost of Howard’s presence was a lost customer. She wondered whether this was the start of more jobs being canceled.
“Come,” she said. “I’m going to need some support. They just closed the Skyway, so now there are two storms brewing, one on the east coast and one at mom’s place.”
“Where are you now? You want to come home and I’ll drive you down later tonight after the traffic’s cleared? I can attend temple with you tomorrow and then drive you back.” This was the side of Howard she loved. Thoughtful, helpful, supportive. This was the part that Lynn didn’t get to see. Marriage was complicated. If Howard were all bad, she’d have left him a long time ago. But he had his moments, like now.
“I’d love to, but better not. I’ll go face the music. I won’t make it for candle-lighting but hopefully I’ll get dinner or some leftovers. And when you get there, we can all have tea and honey cake.”
“Sounds good.”
After she hung up, Max called Del. “Any news on our missing gal or on whether she officially changed her name?”
“It’s too soon. What did you say to Handler? He’s pissed at you.”
He deserved it, she thought, then reminded herself that the thought was uncharitable. This evening was the New Year, a time to reflect on how she’d lived her life over the past 365 days. A time to ask forgiveness from people she might have wronged, and to resolve to do better. She’d always liked this version of a new year better than the secular one which involved getting drunk and kissing people you wished you hadn’t. There was so much about Judaism that she loved. What she had trouble with was the way it was sometimes practiced.
“Crap. Tell Handler I’m sorry. Got a few minutes to talk?” she asked.
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Did you ever think about committing suicide?”
She heard a gasp on the other end of the line and realized that for Del the question had come out of left field.
“They were just talking about it on the radio and it made me think about Ella,” she said hurriedly. “Trying to get inside her head to find out whether she skipped Dodge or offed herself.”
“Oh.” She heard a sigh of relief. “Nah, can’t say I have.” The answer was short. She should have expected that. He was a guy, a police officer. Even if he’d thought about it, he wouldn’t tell her. “Why suicide? Of all the things you told me so far, that wasn’t a direction I thought you were considering.”
“I was thinking about people who kill themselves instead of just leaving their current life and starting over.”
“Not usually that easy to leave. If you’ve got a spouse, kids, a mortgage...”
“I know. But Ella didn’t have any of those. She’s engaged, or so her fiancée claims, but there’s nothing really keeping her in Gulfport. Breezy’s convinced Ella’s in danger from some outsider, but what if she’s actually in danger from herself?”
Del mumbled something but the noise of the traffic prevented her from catching what he said. She asked him to repeat it.
“Have you looked through her hard drive?”
“Wasn’t there. Breezy said Ella has a laptop and an extra screen, but the only thing in her office was the screen.”
“She took her laptop? Sounds more like she’s done a disappearing act than offed herself.”
“I agree. Just trying to make sure I’m covering all bases. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s made a clean break. According to Breezy, Ella relocated from the West Coast, but she hasn’t kept up with any of her friends. For whatever reason, when she’s done with a place, she’s done.”
“Do you trust what Breezy said? You told me she was a basket case.”
“I know. But it’s not just Breezy. The woman Ella spent Saturday evening with, Lucinda, she also said Ella’s crazy about Breezy. Mind you, I’m not sure I trust the friend either. She was kinda vague. Couldn’t even say what time Ella left her house. I reckon she passed out drunk and was too embarrassed to tell me. Her hands were still shaking this morning.”
“You think she’s covering for Ella?”
“I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t rule it out.”
“You got yourself a case girlfriend, congratulations.”
Max heard a phone ringing at Del’s end. “I’ll let you go,” she said and hung up.
Traffic was bumper to bumper in Tampa and Max was beyond pissed that she had to drive this route. She felt a throbbing in her right temple and placed her middle finger on it, hoping to rub away the headache that was quickly forming.
Max thought about her conversation with Del and ran through all the possibilities one more time. She even came up with a new one. What if Ella was on the run because a jealous ex was chasing her? Maybe she changed her name and moved to Gulfport to get away from this person and then, whoever it was, they tracked her down. It would explain a lot. Why she changed her name, why she dropped all her former friends, why she had no social media presence. But if any of this were the case, surely she would at least tell Breezy what was going on. She’d want to alert her to any possible danger. Although, given Breezy’s own volatility, maybe she wouldn’t. It might also explain why Ella ended up with someone who, on the surface, looked somewhat unstable. Maybe she had a bad track record when it came to choosing lovers.
By the time Max was on the open road in Manatee County she’d raised more questions than answers. She wished she could go back into the office tomorrow. For months she’d done almost nothing beyond arrest drunk people or check out a missing bicycle. She felt so frustrated. Now that she finally had something to sink her teeth into, she had to wait before she could get started. Del promised to have a search of Clam Bayou conducted, but she didn’t hold out a lot of hope for that. There were so many walkers and kayakers who used the nature preserve every day, she was sure if there were a dead body or missing kayak tucked under a mangrove, someone would have spotted it already. But maybe they’d find something. A cell phone, a credit card, some clue that would start to make sense of the situation.
This was what she loved about detective work. How it started out with nothing and then one small clue led to another. She felt her excitement rise, then reminded herself that she had to slow down, at least for the next twenty-four hours. But there’d be no stopping her after that.