Page 44 of Find Me

“That was what she said her name was.” The woman pulled a rumpled sheet of paper from the console and thrust it in Lindsay’s direction. It was a copy of the flyer that Lindsay had posted around town.

Lindsay looked down at Hope’s smiling face in the photo, afraid of what she was about to learn from this stranger.

“Her name is Hope. Hope Miller. And you are...”

“Jocelyn Hodge.”

“You met her?” Lindsay asked, gesturing to the photo.

“I cut her hair. I work at the Lock Box.” Lindsay recognized the name of a supermodern, minimalist-looking salon on the main road through Bridgehampton. “She was a walk-in. Most new clients, they’re on their phone scrolling through Insta or Twitter, answering their emails, whatever. Or they let me fill the silence, asking if they’re out here visiting, their plans for the weekend, typical small talk. But your friend? I couldn’t shut her up. Is it true that she had just moved here from New Jersey?”

Lindsay nodded. “A town called Hopewell.”

“Hope from Hopewell.” The woman gave her a skeptical look. “You sure she’s not lying about her name to you, too?”

“When did you give her a cut?” Lindsay asked.

“Two weeks ago? Maybe three.” It lined up with Hope’s diary entry about the man watching her as she left the salon. “She was super nosy.It started out with her saying she was new in town. How she was having a hard time meeting people. Like the way the long-term actual human beings who live here don’t need to make any new friends. Or it was a bunch of city assholes she had nothing in common with. I mean, she wasn’t wrong. You need to move here full time and make your bones if you really want to have a life.”

“When you called me, you said you thought she was stalking your boyfriend.”

Jocelyn blew her bangs from her eyes. “Stalking? Okay, maybe I exaggerated. But once she was in my chair, she kind of moved the conversation over to whether I was single or not. I told her I had a boyfriend, and she asked how we met. Seemed like girl talk at first. But once we were on the subject, she just kept grilling me. Whether he had grown up here or was new to town. Where he had moved from. How he was settling in as a newcomer. Whether I thought he’d stay for the long haul. If I had met his family. It was... a lot.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, by the way,” Lindsay said. Reminding herself that Jocelyn did not yet appear to know about the police announcement, she quickly added, “You told me on the phone that Alex passed away. When was the last time you saw him?”

“Two weeks ago, a few days before I filed the police report. I found his truck last week in the lot in Montauk. I had a moment of hope thinking I’d find him, too...” She choked back a sob.

“What makes you think there’s a connection between my friend and Alex? Because she was asking about your relationship?”

“Nope. Because when the cops told me he was shot in the head, they showed me this exact picture.” Lindsay flinched as Jocelyn flicked the back of the flyer with her middle finger. “They asked me if she looked familiar. I knew immediately who she was, but they wouldn’t tell me why they asked. Was he sleeping with her or something? I mean, I guess it would be better if I just knew the truth, because right now? I’m not sure whether to hate your friend or be worried for her. Maybe whoever killed Alex also—” She let the thought hang in the silence.

“As far as I know, Hope didn’t know your Alex. Did he ever mention her to you?”

She shook her head. “He’s literally the only guy I’ve ever dated who never gave me any reason to doubt him. I never caught him hiding his phone or checking out another woman in the corner of his eye. He was just... good. Solid. The only thing I can possibly think of is that we had a little too much wine one night and he seemed sort of distracted. He started rambling about how someone he used to know had booked a tour. It was messing with his head for some reason. I tried to press him, but he got really mad and eventually passed out. In the morning, he said he didn’t know what I was talking about. His company’s a tour outfit called Reel Deal Fishing. Any chance your friend went out on the water?”

Lindsay had already given this information to Carter Decker, so she figured she might recycle it to gain Jocelyn’s trust. “A couple of months ago, I think. Do you know where Alex grew up?”

“Arizona. And then he lived in Alaska before moving here.”

“Not Wichita, Kansas?”

“Not that he ever mentioned. The police asked me the same thing. Is that where your friend is from?”

Was it? Lindsay didn’t answer. Instead, she said, “Sorry, I still don’t understand why you said Hope was a stalker.”

“Look, it’s all in retrospect. When she came into the salon, another stylist was free, but she specifically asked for me, saying it was because we had the ‘same style of hair.’ Not exactly unique.” She pulled at her long dark-blond waves with perfectly manicured fingertips. “And now I’ve learned she gave me a fake name. Not cool. As much as I loved Alex, his past was a mystery to me. Maybe your friend can cast some light on it. If you find her,” she added.

Alex had shared little more with this woman about his history than Hope knew of her own. Had they been running from the same danger? “You said Hope’s chitchat only seemed odd to you in hindsight. That was after the police talked to you?”

“Yeah. After they showed me your friend’s picture.”

“So you told them everything you just said to me?” Lindsay asked.

“Yep, but did they tell me anything in return? Nope. They treated me like some bimbo.”

“Do you remember who you talked to? Was it a Detective Carter Decker?”

“Yup. That’s definitely the guy. Not exactly sensitive. Alex? Alex was sensitive. I really loved him. And he had such a strong sense of justice, a firm line between right and wrong. When that superfamous movie director got Me Too’d for making passes at teenage girls, and tried to say the times had changed since back then? It was like Alex wanted to stab him through the TV screen. Even though the guy made two of Alex’s favorite movies, Alex swore he’d never watch them again.”

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