Page 42 of Missing White Woman

My hands were shaking so much it was like trying to read a book on a roller coaster, but still I kept going. Reading fight after fight, all saying variations of the same thing. I only stopped when Adore gently touched my hand to physically stop me from clicking. “Bree, it’s going to be—”

I interrupted, not wanting her pity. “We need to go get my phone.”

* * *

The ride over to Little Street was quick. We didn’t run into any problems until we got to the cross street. The crowd had multiplied—squared, even. The police tape and barriers were still up, but now they needed four uniforms to keep onlookers at bay.

I could feel their energy from the car. Folks there to film, tweet, and post. I wondered if any of them had commented something nasty under Ty’s post.

Adore took the next street and drove around to the other end of the block.

There were no crowds here—too far from the action to film anything good—and no barriers either. Just a lone cop leaning against his squad car. He was young, on the precipice of good-looking, like he’d wanted to play a cop on TV but had to settle for this. Adore put her blinker on and he ambled over, leaning down when he finally got to the car. I must’ve turned invisible on the ride over because he smiled right through me and at Adore.

“Sorry, miss, but this street is open only to locals.” His voice was helpful. Cops never sounded like that with me either.

Adore already had her card out. “I’m A. Kristine McKinley and this is Breanna Wright. Detective Calloway’s expecting us.”

He eyed her card just as hard as he’d eyed her, then stood up and murmured something into the walkie on his shoulder. There was an even more muffled response before he bent down again. “Go right ahead, Ms. McKinley.”

A few houses in, I was surprised to see a huddle of people coming toward us, led by a trio of various dogs. And once again it made me think of Janelle.

Everyone but the dogs turned toward our approaching car. I stared at them until they noticed and then I regretted not having slumped down. Though I searched for Ms. Morgane, I only recognized the blip of red in the middle. Krista.

And she recognized me too. Even still twenty feet away, her eyes narrowed to paper-thin slits. I turned away, but that didn’t make it any better. I still felt the heat of her glare.

Though there was a spot directly in front of 110, Adore didn’t dare park there. Instead, she stopped several houses down, like she was just dropping by a friend’s.

“Probably best if you let me get your bag and whatever else,” she said. “We can check that everything’s there when we get back to the hotel.”

“It’s fine,” I said, not wanting to think of random police officers pawing through my bras and panties.

Adore nodded before getting out and walking toward the house as if on a stroll. She left the car running. Calloway met her before she could even make it to the front gate. Even from half a dozen houses away, I could see the crowd perk up, more cameras rising like they were filming a concert.

Adore and Calloway exchanged a few words, then both turned to the car. I resisted the urge to wave. Just stared back until they turned around and disappeared inside a white tent now set up in front of the house, big enough to hold a small wedding.

With nothing else to do, I glanced at the house we were parked in front of. It was redbrick with white shutters and blinds drawn tight. I looked up and down the block. Other houses were the same—even though it was broad daylight. Krista and Company were gone. It was a stark contrast to the vibrancy of just a few days before. The street now felt deserted, even with the crowd. Like we’d all just dealt with a zombie apocalypse.

The pink Missing signs were still tacked on to every tree. Janelle looking so alive. So vibrant. Again, I thought about her life cut short. She had been a person with dreams. Hopes. Fears. Combinations of all three. And it all had ended because she encountered the wrong person at the wrong time.

And now all of us had turned her from a human to an opinion. A comment. An excuse to argue and judge. Even I was guilty of it—focusing on Ty. It made me wonder how many people truly cared about losing Janelle for who she was. I knew she had almost no family. Not a lot of friends.

I was so deep in thought, I didn’t notice Randle until he knocked on the window. My breath caught, but I managed to force myself to breathe again by the time I rolled the window down. He smiled. “Ms. Wright. Figured I’d check in to see how you’re doing.”

Yeah, okay. He wanted something. When I didn’t say anything, he kept on.

“You’ve had quite a twenty-four hours.”

Had it only been that long? I kept my response short as I wiped my eye. “I had a good night’s sleep. It helped.”

“You’re at that fancy hotel off Scott?”

Of course he was keeping tabs.

“It looks really nice. Sounds like it’s nice too.” He took a breath. “Did you have a chance to see the footage we released?”

And there it was. My voice was clipped. “Entire world’s probably seen it. At least everyone with TikTok.”

He smiled at that. “You recognize anyone?”

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