Page 29 of Missing White Woman

Thank you, Jesus. Joseph and Mary too.

I couldn’t hit the button fast enough, holding my breath the entire time. But then the voice came through.

“Breanna, it’s your mother. You haven’t answered any of my text messages.”

I hung up. Said nothing as I put the phone back where I’d found it. We were quiet for a few lights, then Adore spoke. “The police think the body may be that missing woman. Janelle Beckett. I have a friend on the force, but he’s too afraid to say much. Apparently, her face is in bad enough shape to make a visual ID hard.”

Adore’s source was wrong. All of her was in bad shape.

The hair. The hands. The jeans. The blood covering it all.

Now that I knew who all those images belonged to, it somehow made it worse. Even in the pink Missing flyers, Janelle still looked so alive.

“You have to know how this looks, Bree.”

I did. A dead white woman. A missing Black man. They’d say he did it. That he was on the run. “Ty wasn’t involved in this.”

“Then he needs to explain that. Him leaving—with you in the house at that—doesn’t look good.”

I took in a breath, didn’t bother to hide my sigh before turning to stare at her long white nails gripping the steering wheel. They were sharp enough to be talons. Fitting for her.

“It’s an Airbnb. What about the owner?”

“A corporation.”

The Tesla stopped at a light.

“We were supposed to be there,” I said. “She wasn’t. Yes, she’s a victim, but we are too. I don’t know why she was there, but she wasn’t alone. That’s who they need to look for. Whoever brought her there. Did that to her. And instead of treating my boyfriend like a suspect they need to be treating him like the witness he probably is. Once I find him, then we can figure it all out.”

“I wouldn’t suggest it.”

“Right. I forgot. You don’t care if someone is actually guilty, as long as the police think so.”

And that ended the conversation. We hit another red light. I needed to get out of the car—away from her. “You can drop me off here,” I said.

“I told you’d I’d take you to his job.”

“I can walk.”

“Fine, and then what if he’s not there?”

I didn’t tell her the police already had told me he wasn’t.

Adore kept on. “You’re just going to camp out in the lobby?”

I glanced around. We were next to a hotel. At least twelve floors coated in mirrored glass. “I’ll get a hotel room.”

“And pay for it how?”

For a second, I thought she knew all my credit cards were maxed out and I was making two hundred dollars stretch until payday. Stationery store manager wasn’t exactly a top-ten-earning profession. But that was ridiculous.

“All your stuff is still in that house,” she said.

“I’ll be fine.” I just needed to get to his job.

“Right.” She drew out the word like she used to in college when we both knew I was being stubborn. “How about we do this? You go to his job. I’ll go into the hotel. Get you a room for a couple of nights. If you don’t use it, that’s fine. But it’ll be there if you need it.”

“Cool,” I said, but it was more just to get her off my back. I’d find Ty tonight. We’d stay somewhere together.