Page 4 of She Didn’t See It Coming

Lizzie, in her sister’s condo, with the uniformed police officer standing nearby and the female detective looking around, watches with close attention.

Sam is distraught. It’s good that Clara is at Angela’s, not seeing all this.

Lizzie thinks she should go check on her niece, but she doesn’t want to leave the apartment in case something happens, in case there’s an update.

She doesn’t want to miss anything. She knows that something has happened to Bryden; she would never abandon her family.

Lizzie feels as if a current is surging through her, like electricity, as if she is a human tuning fork, humming, humming.

But she doesn’t think anyone has noticed.

She’s a nurse; she’s good in emergencies.

It’s her job to keep everyone else together, to manage her own feelings as required. She’s used to it.

She’s already made the difficult call to her parents, who live in Tampa, Florida.

Her mother had become hysterical on the phone.

Her father was so shocked he barely spoke.

They all know that Bryden would pick up her daughter—unless she couldn’t.

They said they would fly to Albany immediately.

They will stay with Lizzie at her apartment in Center Square, which isn’t too far from Bryden and Sam’s, only a ten-minute drive.

Lizzie tried to reassure them, but her reassurances rang hollow. This isn’t like Bryden at all.

···

Jayne meets Detective Kilgour and the search team in the lobby.

Tom Kilgour is in his early thirties, just a bit younger than Jayne.

He’s tall and broad shouldered and exudes quiet strength.

One would be mistaken to think that his brawn is his best asset; he’s a smart, talented detective and she’s glad he’s here. They work well together.

The building manager, Ravi Sabharwal, has arrived now too and is standing behind the desk with the young man who was here before, but who is looking less bored now.

Ravi, a worried-looking man of about forty, will accompany the search team.

He knows every part of the building and has the necessary keys to gain access.

Jayne has already made a preliminary inquiry about the Albany Police K-9 Unit, but they are currently engaged elsewhere. Perhaps that won’t be necessary.

“How many apartments in the building?” Jayne asks Ravi Sabharwal.

“There are one hundred thirty-five units,” he answers. “Twelve stories. They range in size from six hundred to four thousand square feet.”

“What about common areas?” Kilgour asks.

“There is a party room on the twelfth floor, as well as a gym. They require keys, and all residents have access. The floors and elevators and stairs, of course—they are open to anyone who lives in the building. There are two levels of underground parking below. Also a storage area, with lockers for the residents, which also requires keys. There are some maintenance rooms and a garbage and recycling area. Residents don’t have access to those. ” He adds, “Most units have balconies.”

Jayne already knows that Bryden Frost’s unit doesn’t have a balcony—they hadn’t wanted one because of safety concerns for their little girl.

Kilgour will accompany the search team. Meanwhile, Jayne will start the door-to-door, interviewing residents on the eighth floor first. She advises Ravi that if Bryden isn’t quickly found, she will want to review any CCTV with him, so he’s not to leave.

“What kind of CCTV coverage do you have here?”

He looks slightly uncomfortable and says, “Coverage on the front and back doors of the building. Nothing on the floors or elevators.”

“What about the underground garages?”

“There’s CCTV there, but it’s not working right now.”

She looks back at him in disbelief. “Why not?” She’d expect better security in a building like this.

“We put in a new system a couple of weeks ago, but there’s something wrong with it.”

She watches the team set off to start the search on the lower levels and then rides back up to the eighth floor.

It’s a fairly new building, about five years old, in good condition, and expensively appointed.

The lighting fixtures are tasteful, the carpet good quality.

Jayne was impressed by the spaciousness of the Frosts’ apartment—the large rooms with lots of windows; the modern, high-end kitchen; the expensive finishes.

She wonders how much a unit in this place costs.

She begins with the neighbor who was friendly with Bryden, in unit 808.

A woman in her thirties, her dark hair swept up in a ponytail, quickly answers the door, looking anxious.

Jayne holds up her badge. “I’m Detective Jayne Salter of Albany Police,” she says.

“Are you Angela Romano?” The woman nods. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“This is about Bryden, isn’t it?” she says nervously. “Have you found her?”

“Not yet.”

Angela’s face falls. She lets Jayne in, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Clara is here. I’ve got her and my daughter settled in front of the TV. We can talk in the kitchen.”

At a glance, Jayne can see that this unit is very similar to the Frosts’ down the hall.

But where the Frosts’ unit is decorated in Scandinavian style, with pale woods and washed-out beiges, this one is much more colorful.

It’s also messier, with kids’ toys everywhere.

Angela leads her through to the kitchen, where they sit down at a marble island, after Angela clears away some dishes.

Jayne had learned from Sam and Lizzie that Bryden spends a lot of time with Angela Romano.

She’s the only other person on the floor with a young child, so they have naturally gravitated to each other.

The two little girls are both three years old and good playmates.

Angela is clearly upset that her friend is missing.

“Angela,” Jayne begins, as they sit in the messy kitchen. “We want to find Bryden, and I’m hoping you can help us.” The other woman nods. “How well do you know her?”

“We’ve been close since the girls were born—our daughters are almost the same age. We spend quite a bit of time together, mostly on the weekends. We both work full time and have the girls in day care—different day cares—during the week.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“On Sunday. The girls had a playdate here in the afternoon, while Bryden went out.”

“Do you know where she went?”

“Yes, she went to get a haircut. We often spell each other like that.”

“Do you have any idea where she might be?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Has she mentioned anything out of the ordinary to you recently?”

She shakes her head again. “No, nothing.”

“Anyone she’s had problems with at all? Here in the building?”

“No.”

“Any problems with anyone else? At work maybe?”

“No. She really likes her job and the people there.”

“Does she confide in you?”

“Yes. I think so. I mean, we confide in each other.”

“About what?”

“Everything. Our kids. Balancing work and motherhood. Our husbands. Our plans for the future. Everything.”

“How would you describe her relationship with her husband?” Jayne asks.

“I know she’s very happy with Sam. They seem perfect for each other. I mean, we both complain about our husbands from time to time, but who doesn’t?”

“What does she complain about?”

“You know—just that she feels she does more of the childcare and household chores than he does, even though their salaries are about the same. I feel the same, to be honest. A lot of what we do seems to be invisible.” She shrugs.

“My husband travels for work a lot. It seems like he’s never home.

” She emphasizes, “Bryden and Sam are solid.” She pauses.

“I know they’re trying for another baby. ”

Jayne files that in the back of her mind. “Did she ever mention that she was worried about anything?”

“No.”

“She never mentioned anything unusual in her life in the last little while, any changes? Did she meet anyone new?”

Angela shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “What are you suggesting? Bryden would never cheat on Sam.”

“I didn’t necessarily mean it like that. Just—was there anything new in her life, any changes? Anything odd, or troubling her?”

Angela shakes her head again. “I honestly don’t think so.” She adds, “She would never just leave, not of her own free will.” Her expression changes, as if she’s considering something.

“What is it, Angela?” Jayne urges. But the other woman looks uncertain, apprehensive. “Tell me.”

“One of the tenants here had a problem, a couple of years ago.” She hesitates.

“What kind of problem?”

“I think you should talk to him about it. I don’t want to be a gossip. He lives down the hall, unit 811, with his wife. She and I used to be friends.”

“Okay, thank you, Angela,” Jayne says. She hands her a card. “If you think of anything else, please give me a call.”