Page 26 of To Have and to Hold

“What I’m saying is, me coming here is a favor, and even though I’d do anything for you, it’s not doing Emme any favors.”

“Because I have nothing to offer,” I said. “That’s what you think.”

Knox lifted a finger. “I didn’t say that. All I’m trying to get across is I can’t loop you in the way I think you want me to—”

I stood, nearly tipping the chair over with the abrupt force. “Let me show you something.”

“Spence…”

But I was already striding into the office. Knox was forced to follow if he wanted to keep communicating.

I flicked on the lights, illuminating the whiteboard with my scrawls and the surrounding surface area around it containing printouts of current online news articles about Emme’s disappearance.

“This is what I’ve been doing,” I said, twisting around to face Knox. “I may not have a cop’s clearance, but I have this.” I pointed to my head. “And it’s gotten me this far. So, whether you want to ‘loop me in’ or not, I’m going to keep at it. This is Emme, Knox. Emme.”

Knox’s shoulders sagged, his mouth following suit as soon as my voice growled with emphasis.

“You know her, too, and you can’t imagine how relieved I am you’re on this case, but I remember everything about her. How she hated routine, but the one thing that always got her up in the morning was going to the gym. Nine a.m. on the dot, because it cleared her head for the day.”

“Spence—”

“How she never ate on time but would always make sure she had three meals, whether it be breakfast at six, lunch at four and dinner at ten.”

Knox stepped forward. “Buddy—”

“She loves Italian restaurants. Especially those in the West Village. Have you figured whether she’s been around there lately? If certain people were paying attention to her that shouldn’t?”

“No, but—”

“What about Sunday brunches in meatpacking? She was always meeting Becca and Jade at a certain place. I can’t… the name is escaping me but it was Mexican or Cuban…”

“You wanna go and sit for a sec?” Knox asked as he scanned the notes behind me. He aimed for my shoulder but I spun out of range and smacked my hand against the whiteboard. “Trevor Knowles. Her ex that took it seriously hard when she moved on. He wouldn’t let up, said some nasty things to her, wrote a bunch of emails, texts—I’m sure she still has them.”

“We have her computer.”

“Have you found this guy?” I asked, hitting his name with the side of my palm. “Have you looked into him?”

Knox stared at the board before saying, “No.”

“Then maybe you fucking should,” I said. I was breathing heavily, though I hadn’t moved but a few steps from my den to the office.

“Spence,” Knox said. He stood, attempting to level me with a calm demeanor. Something he probably did with many of his victims and interviewees—something I did. “Listen to me.”

My lower jaw protested as I clenched.

“I know you’re trying to help,” he said. “In fact, what you’ve written here is phenomenal. I had no idea you remembered this much about her.”

“Fucking…neither did I,” I said. “But she was the woman I was going to marry. I can recall everything.”

I thought I’d moved on, I had. Noelle was in the other room, a woman that the moment I started dating replaced Emme. It was how I functioned—never get stuck in the past. Regrets were pointless, because decisions had to be ruthless. Emme and I broke up, and while I loved her—I did love her—the vicious soreness that followed couldn’t be tended to. I stanched it.

Until…Jesus, until she was kidnapped.

“I know, man.” This time, Knox’s hand hit its mark on my shoulder. “And this brings us all closer to figuring Emme out.” He paused. “In understanding who she was. Do you hear me?”

My hand slid from the board, smearing Trevor Knowles into red, blurred streaks. Knox didn’t mean “was” in terms of Emme no longer being here.

“I mean no disrespect by saying this,” Knox said, “but the woman you’re telling me about, the person who was your future wife and who you knew inside and out…you were with her two and a half years ago.”

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