Page 15 of Remember Her Name

“We’re separated,” Sheila explained. “Have been for about a year now. I took a job in New York City. I couldn’t convince him to come with me even though he can do his work from anywhere. He’s a support specialist for a banking app—for a bank that has branches in New York City.”

“Sheila.” This time his voice was a growl.

His wife continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “So when I moved, we separated. I’m only here now because…” She left the sentence unfinished, for the first time looking sad and uncertain. Her nails found the shiny streak again, digging into her skin much harder this time.

Josie’s eyes were drawn back to the cards, all standing like proud little sentinels, proclaiming their battle cries against grief.Thinking of you in your time of loss. With Deepest Sympathy. May you find comfort in your loving memories.The words were as flimsy as the card stock they were printed on.

“You just lost a loved one,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

Isaac turned to the photograph on the end table. “Our daughter, Jenna. A month ago. She was about to start college. She had cardiac problems.”

Josie’s heart fluttered as she studied the photo with new perspective. No wonder the room, the house, felt so heavy with sadness.

Turner was focused on something else entirely. “You must have been young when you had her. I mean you, not your wife.”

Josie resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs. Isaac ignored the question. “I’d rather not talk about Jenna.”

She took the opportunity to redirect the conversation. The clock was ticking for Cleo Tate. Offering Sheila a sympathetic smile, she asked, “Your car was stolen?”

“A white Hyundai sedan?” Turner added. He read off the license plate number that Dougherty had given them.

“That’s the one,” Sheila said. “It’s still registered here.”

Cleo Tate’s abductor was even smarter than Josie thought, which caused a knot in her stomach. Steal a car that can’t be traced to you, abduct a woman in a park with no cameras, and leave a photograph that can never be connected to you. Unless he left prints in the car or on the photograph, they wouldn’t have much to work with in terms of identifying him. Given that he’d already taken so many precautions, Josie doubted he was dumb enough to leave prints behind. Or if he did, they wouldn’t be in AFIS, which would make them useless unless he committed another crime for which he was arrested and printed.

Turner picked at the dried glue residue on his sleeve. “This is a fucking wild goose chase,” he muttered under his breath.

“What’s that?” Isaac said.

Josie plastered on a fake smile. “Nothing. My colleague was just saying that we’ll need to ask you some questions. There is a chance that your vehicle was used in the abduction of a woman in the city park this morning.”

Sheila gasped, one hand flying to her chest. “What? That’s terrible! Are you sure?”

Their television was off. Unless Sheila had spent the morning on social media—and if she had been working all morning—then she probably hadn’t seen the news about Cleo Tate. Isaac had, though, given the way his face paled.

“We’re still investigating,” Josie told Sheila.

Turner looked down at Josie, lowering his voice again. “Good lord. This is going to take forever.”

“You have somewhere else to be?” she shot back, quietly enough not to be heard by the Hamptons. He always acted like he did. Any second now, his phone would come out and he’d start scrolling. Smiling tightly at Sheila, she said, “Tell me about the car.”

NINE

Sheila walked over to the couch and snatched a tissue from the tissue box. She worked it over the stain on her arm, to no avail. “I left my travel mug in the car yesterday. I went out this morning around eight to get it, and the car was gone. I don’t know how long it was gone. I parked it in the driveway yesterday around dinner time.”

“No cameras?” asked Turner.

“No,” said Sheila. “This has always been a safe street. Some of the neighbors might have cameras, though. Can you ask them?”

“Yes,” said Josie. “We’ll do that. When is the last time you remember seeing the car, Mr. Hampton?”

“I went up to bed around nine. I looked outside before I locked the door. It was still there then.”

“Did either of you hear anything during the night?” asked Josie.

Both shook their heads.

Evidently bored with the conversation, Turner took his phone out and punched in his passcode. Josie said, “Call dispatch and tell them we need units out here to help canvass. Send the car information to Amber so she can get it out to the press.”

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