Page 20 of Broken Hearts

8

Agent Jason West

The dreary skywas filled with angry gray clouds as I stood outside, gloved hands in my warm pockets. I was in front of an old brick rowhouse with crumbling pockmarked concrete steps leading up to the door, waiting for Cora Rossi to come out. She’d answered the door a moment ago but then immediately insisted on going back inside to get a scarf and a cup of coffee for me. She also politely invited me in, but I preferred to stay outside and have another look at Celeste Riley’s house.

So here I was, waiting and staring over the wrought iron fence which divided the two properties. The rental house Celeste lived in up until her disappearance six weeks ago was tiny and getting on in years, with a sagging front porch and chipped, peeling gray paint on the exterior. The block it was situated on was actually quite large in contrast, and the empty lots surrounding it made the space seem even larger.

That was probably quite nice for the girl when she was here—all that privacy. Especially in a neighborhood like this with one of the highest crime rates in the city. I was willing to bet the empty space surrounding her made her feel a lot safer than she would otherwise, like a haven on her very own tiny island.

Unfortunately, the location and space posed a big problem for me. With all the trees, hedges, and overgrown grass, now coated in thick layers of snow, there wasn’t much visibility from other nearby buildings. That meant it was unlikely anyone would’ve noticed if Celeste had a stalker, and I thought she did.

By now I was sure Samara was right, and the Heartbreaker had followed her, kept tabs on her, and eventually taken her. The guy could’ve stood in one of those empty lots, covered by the tree line at the fence, and peered in her windows. Or he could’ve crept into her backyard and broke into her house while she was out. He could’ve figured out all her movements, all her usual activities.

The only person close enough to see what went on around the place was Cora, the old lady next door. She’d backed up Samara Silva when she reported Celeste missing, and she’d given a statement to the police, but I hadn’t had the chance to speak with her myself. Apparently, two weeks after Celeste’s disappearance—and a week before the case had even been called to my attention by Samara—she’d gone down to Florida to stay with a relative for a few weeks, ostensibly to escape the cold. I’d tried her cell while she was away, but it didn’t seem to be connecting.

Now that she’d finally returned, I could speak to her in person. ASAC Dwyer was covering for me back at the field office like he’d promised, seeing as Foley vehemently disapproved of me ‘wasting’ time searching for Celeste. If anyone asked, I was working on a cold case file.

Cora came outside again a moment later, her wrinkled hands coiled around a white mug. Steam rose from the cup, and she handed it to me. “Thank you, Ms. Rossi,” I said, taking a grateful sip. “Must be a shock to come back to all this cold, huh?”

Fall had been much colder than usual this year, but now that winter was right on our doorstep, the daily temperatures had dipped even lower.

Cora shrugged. “Florida was nice, and it was good to see my nephew, but I’m used to the cold. Don’t mind it that much.” She took a breath and shuffled her feet. “Sorry I haven’t been around for so long. After I talked to the cops, I got the impression they weren’t gonna do much of anything. I didn’t think anyone else would want to talk to me. So I didn’t even take my phone down there. Can barely figure out how to use the thing anyway.”

“That’s all right. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

She rubbed her neck. “So what can I do to help?”

“I just wanted to talk to you about a few things regarding Celeste. When did you first notice she was missing?”

“Probably around the same time as her friend, that girl… Samara?” I nodded to confirm the name, and she went on. “Celeste almost always came home. There were only two occasions I can think of when she didn’t, but she always told me the next day that she’d stayed at a friend’s house. Probably Samara.”

I nodded again. Samara had told me the same thing—Celeste usually liked to stay alone at her own place, and never went home with any guys after social events.

“So I noticed right away when she didn’t come home that night. I knew it was her birthday, though, so I figured she was out celebrating. It was only when Samara came round looking for her that I started to worry. She said Celeste never showed up to her own party.”

“How long did you wait before reporting it?”

“I went in the same day as Samara. She drove me in. Nice girl, just like Celeste.”

“What did the police say?”

Her nose wrinkled. “I think you already know,” she said bitterly. “They acted like she was just some runaway. Then later, they told us she probably went off and killed herself, either accidentally or on purpose. The way they talked about her, you’d think she was some sort of heroin addict.”

I pressed my lips into a thin line. I’d heard the same stuff myself, even from my superiors at the FBI. They seemed to think that because Celeste had a chronic pain problem, she must’ve been troubled enough to make herself disappear.

“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary about Celeste’s behavior in the weeks leading up to her disappearance?” I asked. I held up a hand. “Sorry, I have to ask.”

“I know. But she was fine. She had the back problems, I know that, but she seemed to be coping with it pretty well, and she told me she was seeing a really good doctor.” She paused and let out a sigh, staring over my shoulder at the gray house next door. “You know, she used to make me cookies whenever she had spare time. She was a sweet girl, really. Not the type to run away, let alone anything else along those lines.” She made a cross over her chest.

“Is there anything you didn’t tell the police when you gave your statement about her going missing?”

Cora frowned. “No.”

“Sorry, let me rephrase. Was there anything you didn’t mention because it didn’t seem relevant at the time? For example, any odd people hanging around the street near Celeste’s place? Could be at any point since she moved in. I’m trying to figure out if someone was following her.”

Cora’s frown deepened, and she scratched at her white hair. “Hm. You think she had a stalker, huh?”

“Possibly.” I didn’t let on who I thought that stalker was. Poor old woman would probably go into cardiac arrest.

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