Page 8 of Missing White Woman

“And I told you that my mother would whoop me if I did that,” Ty said. Mine would too. Putting a “Ms.” in front of the name of an older Black woman was a sign of respect.

They both turned to look at me. I had other things on my mind besides names.

“Did you know that woman who’s missing is from near here, Ty?” Now that I knew about her connection to this neighborhood, I suddenly was interested in the case.

Ty’s eyes widened at my outburst. “I had heard. I’m sure she’ll be found soon.”

“It has to be the boyfriend, right?” I turned back to Ms. Morgane. “It’s always the boyfriend.”

“She never mentioned dating anyone,” Ms. Morgane said.

“A friend maybe,” I said.

“Bree…” Ty’s voice trailed off, clearly not happy that I suddenly wanted to play detective. “This is someone Ms. Morgane knows.”

He was right. I was treating it like some Netflix true-crime documentary. Janelle Beckett was a person. I needed to show respect. “I’m so sorry,” I said.

“It’s fine,” Ms. Morgane said. “So when are you going to—”

Ty jumped in. “Where we’re going.”

“Oh, right. She doesn’t know.”

I looked at Ty.

“Yep, I told her,” he said. “Everyone knows but you.” He turned back to Ms. Morgane. “We’re gonna run a few miles, then she’s going to make me breakfast after I beat her.”

I playfully rolled my eyes.

“You taking her to the waterway?” she said.

He nodded. “Of course. Gotta start off the trip trying to impress her. It’ll give us plenty of time to get back and dressed and head into the city.”

“PATH or ferry?”

“Definitely taking the PATH,” Ty said.

It was like they were speaking a foreign language. Ty must’ve seen my eyebrows furrowing because he finally addressed me. “It’s like a subway except between New Jersey and Manhattan.”

I nodded. Now that he’d translated, it wasn’t much of a surprise that we weren’t taking the ferry. Ty wasn’t a water person. Some bad experience at Chesapeake Bay as a kid. He hadn’t shared much more than that, and of course I didn’t pry. Just like I never asked him about that scar on his stomach. Because me asking questions about his past would only lead to him asking questions about mine.

“That’ll put you closer”—Ms. Morgane glanced at me—“to wherever you’re going.”

My eyes narrowed as I looked at the two of them. After a moment, they both burst out laughing. Ty spoke first. “Let’s get this run over with before she breaks up with me.”

“Smart man,” Ms. Morgane said.

“It was nice meeting you, Ms. Morgane,” I said.

“Same.”

Ty produced a card from somewhere in his running pants and handed it to her. He’d done the same when he’d met me. I still had it where I’d thrown it on my dresser. The cardstock was 100lb. gloss. Thinner than other types but also more durable.

“In case you were serious about investing in Ethereum,” he said.

I snorted because I knew nothing about it other than it was some form of crypto. Ty had tried to explain it to me more than once. I was glad Ms. Morgane was more interested in it than I was.

“I definitely will…” She trailed off as she looked behind us. I glanced back to see the man in the orange shirt on the corner. Even from a distance I could see he was staring. “You know what?” Ms. Morgane said. “Let me give you both my number.”