Page 95 of Girl Between (Dana Gray FBI Mystery Thriller #5)

Taurant had been right, Dana realized as she gazed out at Miriam Barton’s manicured backyard. The Goldsmith-Godchaux House—now a NOSA office—was only a few blocks away. Elizabeth Barton could’ve easily ridden her bike that far as a child.

Minus its sidewalks, the Garden District seemed a safe, tranquil family neighborhood. There was rarely a siren, and the only activity Dana had seen in the past hour came from couples with strollers or dog walkers.

“It must be hard to stay here,” Dana expressed, watching another family stroll by.

“I think it’d be harder to leave,” Miriam replied, observing her housekeeper who’d just brought tea service into the sunny room.

George had excused himself to take a phone call a few moments ago, prompting Miriam to call for tea.

Dana was doubtful teatime was on his agenda for the day, but she knew George’s Southern hospitality would prevent him from denying the grieving woman such a simple pleasantry, even though they’d already spent too much time in the mausoleum of a home, since Miriam insisted on giving them a tour to explain the method behind her madness of the missing women wallpaper .

Dana took the gold rimmed teacup and saucer the housekeeper offered, but noticed Miriam ignored hers. Her fingers on the stem of her empty martini glass, absentmindedly turning it on the table.

During their brief line of questioning, Dana learned the woman had alienated herself from her friends and relatives.

She’d divorced Elizabeth’s father five years after their daughter’s disappearance, citing irreconcilable differences .

But from the state of the missing persons’ wallpaper, Dana hedged it was one single difference —Miriam’s inability to stop searching for her daughter.

According to Miriam, it also drove a wedge between her and the other grieving parents of the Harvest Girls, whom she said expressed that they preferred to distance themselves from Miriam because she refused to move on.

At first, Dana was tempted to agree. Miriam Barton appeared a feeble and obsessive woman, wrecked by grief. But when Dana looked past her frail exterior, she saw a spine of steel. There was no other way to explain the woman’s ceaseless search.

Miriam Barton may have let her home and appearance wane. But her mind was sharper than ever. The woman had systematically tracked her daughter’s disappearance, explaining her research to them. Stating how she’d collected and researched missing person cases.

First, from the surrounding states—Mississippi, Texas, Alabama, Arkansas, Georgia, Florida. Then branching out further in a circular arc. At one point, she’d even answered the question neither George nor Dana had the courage to ask.

“I know the likelihood of finding Elizabeth now,” said Miriam, her fingers going to the dainty necklace at her throat again. “But a mother never stops searching for her child.”

Dana knew the feeling. And in her experience, it went the other way as well.

Which led her to believe that Elizabeth Barton was no longer on this earth.

If she was, and possessed even a fraction of her mother’s grit, she would’ve found her way back to the tireless woman who’d done everything in her power to find her daughter.

“I wish we had better news,” Dana said, clutching her teacup .

“So do I,” Miriam acknowledged. “Somehow, even knowing she’s still part of the discussion helps. Elizabeth may not be here any longer, Dr. Gray. But I refuse to let her memory disappear.”

“I admire that,” said Dana, taking a moment to sip her tea and collect her emotions. They were too close to the surface. This was why she didn’t like field work. People were unpredictable. And so were emotions.

Right now, Dana was battling both.

She hadn’t expected to connect with the silver-haired mother.

And she hadn’t expected to miss her own so deeply.

She looked up to say so, when she noticed Miriam clutching her locket again.

“That’s a beautiful necklace,” Dana commented.

“I couldn’t help noticing you touch it when you talk about your daughter. Was it a gift from her?”

“Keen observation,” Miriam answered. “But no, I bought it. I bought Elizabeth a matching one. Each locket has a photo of the other inside. I gave it to Elizabeth on her first day of school and told her as long as she wore it I would always be with her.” Miriam smiled fondly as she touched the locket.

“I know it’s foolish, but we promised we’d never take them off.

And it’s a promise I’m too superstitious to break. ”

“I don’t think it’s foolish at all,” said Dana.

Miriam stared intently at Dana, fingers still around the locket. “I swear I can feel her sometimes. Her essence. I know she’s still alive.”

“I hope that’s true,” Dana admitted.

“You know,” Miriam said. “As long as you continue to say their names out loud, they’re never truly gone.”

“Who?” Dana asked.

“The dead.”

George strolled back into the room. “We’re needed back at the station,” he told Dana. Turning to face Miriam, he offered his respects. “Thank you for your time and hospitality. If we have any information regarding your daughter’s case, we’ll reach out. I promise.”

“You know where to find me,” she said, forcing a practiced smile.