38

Quinn

As soon as she’d woken up to discover her daughter’s bed empty and the small room at Bertie’s devoid of her things, Quinn had figured Vivi fled, somehow, to Birch Harbor.

No, she didn’t suspect a kidnapping. No, she didn’t suspect foul play, even.

In her heart of hearts, she knew that Vivi had left willfully. Because it’s the sort of thing Quinn herself had done, too. And not just once, either. Over and again. When things got hard, when she couldn’t control her circumstances in just the right way and with just the right degree of comfort, she, too, fled.

But when Quinn got in touch with Matt, he had no clue what she was talking about. Vivi hadn’t gone “home.” Not to Birch Harbor.

Neither had she made it to any of her friends’ houses there.

Matt called the Birch Harbor police. Quinn called the Harbor Hills police. County officials were preparing for a broad-scale search, and this turned Quinn’s stomach.

Where else could Vivi be?

Where else did she have to go?

Nowhere, of course.

Matt joined Quinn at the Apple Hill house, and by then, most of the town knew to be on the lookout for a dangerously pretty blonde teenager.

At the top of the list of interest locally was Elijah, Vivi’s only known peer contact.

The police had him now, in the backyard, while Quinn called every single person in her life to beg for any information they could possibly have.

After she finished talking to her brother, who knew nothing, she turned back to her kitchen, broken.

“You really didn’t wake up?” Matt accused.

A gag crawled up Quinn’s throat. “I’m gonna be sick.” She dashed to the kitchen sink where dry heaves racked her body.

Hands rubbed her back, but surely, they weren’t her ex’s hands. Oh, no. If they weren’t already divorced before, she could be sure that they’d be divorced after this. Quinn didn’t care about that. She cared about her daughter and the fact that she was in the exact same spot she’d found herself before. On the outs. Just when things were going well, she had to go and ruin it all over again. Although, to be fair, some of this ruin began elsewhere. Quinn had just picked it up and carried it forward.

“Think, Quinn. Is there anywhere here she might be?” Matt demanded.

“I can send Elijah to the movie theater after his interview,” Annette offered helpfully. “I mean, I doubt there’s anything playing this early, but that’s a teen sort of hangout. Right? Maybe she just wanted an escape. We all need an escape sometimes.”

Matt blew air through tight lips, effectively shutting her down.

“The police are going to canvass—oh my—” Quinn choked down a sob at the word. She swallowed hard, willing her voice to cooperate. “They are going to check every house in this area. But she doesn’t know anyone in Crabtree Court. The only place she’s been, really, is here.” Quinn covered her face in her hands, rubbing her eyes hard.

“How long do you think she’s been gone?” Jude asked quietly.

Quinn shrugged. “We went to bed late. I was awake even after that for a while, I think. Probably early morning. Very early.” She glanced at her wristwatch. “It’s almost eleven, so that’s hours.”

“Did you have an argument?” Matt asked, panic streaking his voice as he pushed his hands through his hair.

Quinn squeezed her eyes shut. They had too much of an audience for her to be honest. “Not an argument, no.” She shook her head. “But she told me what happened.”

Her revelation was met with quiet.

Her neighbors—her friends—took the hint. “I’m going to call Roman,” Annette declared, leaving the room with her phone in her hands.

“I’ll—um—I have contacts in Birch Harbor. The town council. The mayor—surely he can pull some strings,” Jude said.

Cringing, Quinn shot her a look. “Thanks. That’d—that’d be fine.”

“No,” Matt interjected.

Quinn glared at him. “What?”

“I already talked to Van Holt.” He turned his gaze on Quinn. “And Dominic.”

Well?” Quinn demanded.

“She’s not there. They haven’t heard from her. And the police know now.”

“About the—”

Matt gave a curt nod. “Yes.” Then he waved his hand dismissively. “It’s irrelevant.”

Quinn’s stomach turned to knots. She had gotten her way. Vivi would be livid.

Now wasn’t the time to pester Matt for details or accuse him of being slow on the uptake. Of handling everything wrong. Clearly, neither one of Vivi’s parents was well enough equipped to parent her correctly. Something had to change.

Annette burst back into the kitchen. “Possibly unrelated,” she said loudly, panting. “But Roman just got home. Sadie is missing, too.”

“Sadie?” Quinn’s chest heaved in another round of nausea, even though she had no idea what a dog’s absence could mean.

“Our dog—” Annette started.

Just then, the back door opened. Elijah stepped in, his head lowered, hands in pockets. Behind him, one of the two cops who had taken him out there was ushering him inside.

Quinn sensed something had shifted in this early stage of the search.

When Elijah’s face lifted from his chest, Quinn saw that it was tear-streaked and blotchy. His lips quivered as he managed to say, “I’m so sorry, Ms. Whittle.” Then, to his mother. “I’m sorry, Mom.”