Page 52 of Missing White Woman

SIXTEEN

I was waiting on the street outside the hotel, checking #Justice4Janelle on Twitter. A neighbor had been making the interview rounds. It was the redhead, Krista. Someone had thoughtfully pulled a highlight from her conversation with Anderson Cooper about how “aggressive” Ty was. The clip had 30,000 likes and close to 8 million views. I was giving it one more when Adore pulled up in her Tesla.

She didn’t see me at first so I had to wave her down, happy for a reason to stop torturing myself with my Twitter timeline. Once I got her attention, she pulled over to the curb, ignoring the long and hard honk of the guy she’d cut off. I went to the back of the car, waited patiently while she popped the trunk, then threw my carry-on inside. Her trunk was spotless, like she paid extra at the car wash for them to dig all up in the crevices.

I opened the passenger door but didn’t sit down. “We just need to check me out and we’ll be good to go. Train leaves at ten. If I miss it, I gotta wait another two hours.”

She said nothing.

I attempted a smile. “Everything okay?”

She looked at me. “I talked to the police.”

No. “I cannot stay here, Adore.”

I’d emailed my boss, apologizing for missing another day. Promised I’d be back since I’d switched shifts with Alyssa and was supposed to work tomorrow. And even if I hadn’t, I couldn’t stay here. I wanted to leave. Pretend none of this had happened, though I knew I’d think about it every day for the rest of my life.

“I told them you had to get back to work,” Adore said. “That you’d be available 24/7 if they needed to talk to you. Even told them you’d jump on Zoom if need be. Video on.”

“But…”

“They still want you to stay.”

“For how long?” I said.

She shrugged.

“They want me to wait until they find Ty, don’t they?” I took her silence as a yes. “Do they even have any idea where he is?”

“It shouldn’t be long. They’re getting a ton of tips.”

“Right. From the Billies of the internet. They’re probably calling in every Black guy in a hoodie in a ten-state radius. You saw that video she posted from the train in Boston? It could’ve been anyone’s head.”

“Give it a couple more days and I can make a case.” She attempted a smile. “I did get the donuts. They’re in the back seat.”

I was quiet long enough that she finally looked at me.

“When’s the last time you went on vacation?” I said, still talking to her from outside the car.

She looked confused, then resigned. “I haven’t gone anywhere in a while.”

“Christmas in Aspen? New Year’s in Miami?”

“Mexico for my birthday.”

August 2.

I didn’t say anything at first. Just nodded. We were supposed to go to Mexico for graduation. She’d spent the entire year saving up. My mother was supposed to pay for my trip as a gift. “Cancún?” I said.

“Cabo.”

She’d probably already been to Cancún. Several times. This was my first real vacation outside of a few family trips to Ocean City. I couldn’t afford to go anywhere else. “How much underwear did you bring, Adore?” I said. “Four pairs? Eight? Twelve?”

“I don’t remember, but then I don’t remember a lot about that trip.” She smiled, like it was the key to defusing a ticking bomb.

“Five days,” I said. “I brought enough underwear for five days. I only needed two days’ worth. That’s how long I was supposed to be here. But you always pack extra, right? Because you never know.”

I paused, the bomb three seconds closer to going off. “I’m out of underwear.”

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