Page 44 of Missing White Woman

Audio message.

That was Ty. He’d sent it Monday at 1:17 a.m.

The only thing that stopped me from checking it immediately was the person who’d just gotten into the driver’s seat. I didn’t know what he was going to say. What I did know was that I didn’t want Adore to hear whatever it was. I put the phone down and looked at her. “I didn’t see my toiletries. I need my toothbrush.”

“We can stop by CVS. Get you a new one.”

“It’s Sonicare. Removes up to seven times more plaque. Cost me fifty dollars plus tax.” She put the car in Drive. I kept on. “That’s not a lot for you, Kristine, but it is for me. I can’t just leave that.”

The car went back to Park. “Fine,” she said as she got out. “Anything else you need to have?”

Just her to leave. I shook my head. Gave her a tight smile. Waited until she was two houses down before I finally tapped the notification and Ty’s text thread magically reappeared. I immediately hit the Play icon, and just like with his outgoing voicemail message, my heart sped up at the sound of his beautiful voice.

“Bree. Baby…”

There was noise in the background like he was outside, and his voice was jumbled and out of breath, like he’d been running. But still. It was him. “I fucked up. I should’ve been honest with you from the get-go, and now—”

A horn blasted for way too long in the background. Once it finally shut up, Ty took in a breath. When he spoke, he sounded different, like he’d changed his mind about whatever he’d been planning to say. “And… now I’m so sorry. I’ve wanted to tell you: I love you so much.”

And just like that, it was done. The world disappeared. The only things left, me and that message.

Oh no. Ty, what did you do?

The notification popped up in small letters. Expires in 2m. A second later it was followed by another option. Keep.

I didn’t press it, just stared, silently counting the seconds in my head, until the message was gone forever—taking whatever Ty did with it.

But just when the countdown reached ten seconds, I pressed it. Keep.

It was the first time he’d said it. I love you. I’m not gonna pretend like I wouldn’t have preferred it be under different circumstances. But the thing was, I loved him too. And it might’ve been silly to think that after everything that had happened, how he’d left me behind. But if he was in some deep shit, he needed me. I was going to find him. I just planned to curse him out first when I did.

I hit Play again. Ty’s voice once again filled the car. “Bree. Baby… I fucked up. I should’ve been honest with you from the get-go, and now—” The horn blast. The deep breath. “And… now I’m so sorry. I’ve wanted to tell you: I love you so much.”

That time I realized there wasn’t just the horn. There was a voice announcement that went along with it. I hit Play again, pulling the phone right up to my ear. Because that made you hear better, just like turning off music helped you concentrate when you were lost.

The blast could mean only one thing: a train was coming. But which one? The area was nothing if not a hub of mass transportation. I’d taken the PATH and Amtrak in my short time here and walked past signs for others I couldn’t name. Ty could’ve been heading to any of them. I pressed the message again, closing my eyes this time. And it actually worked. I could hear what the announcement said: “Next stop Essex.”

I immediately went to Google: “nj train stops essex.”

The first hit was an Essex Street New Jersey Transit stop somewhere in Hackensack. But that felt too far for Ty to be at 1:17 a.m. on Monday. Especially since the second one was much closer. A light-rail stop in Jersey City.

The stop before it was Exchange Place—near where we’d taken the PATH train into the city. The PATH station was right by the water and the 9/11 memorial was a couple of blocks away. So was something else. Ty’s job.

I was staring at the map when the driver-side door opened and Adore got back in.

“Calloway says you don’t want your toothbrush back. And I’m willing to trust her on that.”

I looked up and forced a smile. “I’ll send her my dentist bill.”

But Adore wasn’t looking at me. She was looking at my phone. “Everything okay? He call?”

I resisted the urge to wipe my eye. “No.”

* * *

If this was some cop show, my brain would’ve been throwing out theories at ninety miles per hour about why Ty would’ve been at the Exchange Place light-rail stop at around 1:30 a.m. while his girlfriend was asleep and a stranger was possibly already dead three stories down.

But I didn’t care about the why, not at that moment. I just knew he’d been there and I needed to know if he still was.

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