Page 20 of Good and Gone

“Well, when I woke up, Hailey was gone,” I begin cautiously. “Her car is in the shop, mine is in the garage, and she’s gone. No note. Nothing.”

“And when we called the police to report her missing,” Jeannie adds, “they seemed unconvinced that anything is wrong.”

Mitzi nods slowly, chewing on her bottom lip as she thinks. “I see,” she says after a moment. She pauses for a beat before continuing in a low whisper. “I might have seen something the other night.”

Jeannie looks over at me. “The other night?”

“Last night,” Mitzi Levitt says. “I mean last night.”

My heart starts racing at her words, and I feel my pulse pounding in my temples. “What did you see?” I ask eagerly.

“Well, it was very early,” she says slowly, glancing over her shoulder as if someone might be listening in on our conversation from next door or down the street. “Early this morning, actually, now that I think of it. But I saw a car pull up near here.”

She pauses again, looking even more nervous now than before. Suddenly, she turns back to us and speaks in barely above a whisper. “There was someone inside that car who looked just like your daughter.”

We stand there for a moment, not knowing what to say. I get the sense she’s not telling the truth. Finally, I find my voice. “Did you see which way the car went?”

“It wasn't a car. More like a large truck. Lots of doors...you know the kind?”

“An SUV?”

She shrugs. “Is that what they're calling them these days?”

“Did you see what color it was?” Jeannie asks.

Mitzi looks at me likecan you believe this womanand shakes her head. “It was dark out still, and my eyesight ain't what it used to be.”

“Mine either,” Jeannie replies nervously, and I see where my wife gets it from. Hailey always says too much when she’s nervous. I’ve always thought it was one of her most endearing qualities. Her mother, on the other hand, irritates me. Jeannie is wasting precious time.

Mrs. Levitt nods and points down the street in the opposite direction of our house. “It turned right at the corner and then disappeared,” she says. “But the other day, there was this car. You know, I thought it might be those teenagers doing drugs again. They like to park in fancy neighborhoods like this, so the police don't detect them.”

“Did you see who was in the car?”

“No, but they took out my mailbox. Twice. Cost me eight hundred dollars. Both times. So I got a license plate this time just in case.”

I turn to Jeannie, who looks just as stunned as I feel. “We have to give this information to the police,” I say quietly. “It changes things.”

“Can you get the number for us?” Jeannie pleads. “It could lead us to Hailey.”

13

John Doe

Days go by and then a week. It’s no time before this chick’s picture is plastered everywhere. Her husband and her parents have appeared on television, multiple times, pleading for her safe return. Her disappearance is getting a lot of attention.

It's a real shitshow, and I tried to warn them that maybe this wasn't one they wanted to mess with, but did they listen? No.

I'd say it's their mistake,theirproblem. But they sort of made it mine, didn’t they? Especially when my wife called to say the cops showed up at our door asking all kinds of questions. It’s one thing for the wife to interrogate me. I had to bust her up over it last week, and I don’t like hitting women. I’m not that kind of man. But what was I supposed to do when she lit into me like she did? She asked if I was out painting all day, why I never had any paint on me when I got home at night. Can you believe that shit?

I couldn’t. But she learned her lesson. You don’t go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.

Then the cops came, and she was bruised up, and, well, that made it a different story.

One thing I know for sure: I’m not taking the fall for this. You can count on that. I told him about it, knowing I shouldn’t. What choice did I have? My car had to go to the chop shop, and that was just the start of all my problems.

I do my best to ignore them. Everyone knows this kind of work is risky. The days drag on and Hailey doesn't turn up at home, which is obviously no real shocker.

The posters with her face on them started to yellow and curl at the edges, and in time I get a kick out of the frenzy surrounding her disappearance. Especially after I tell the cops my car was stolen, and they lay off me a bit. He produces some sort of backdated,veryfake police report, and it’s kind of nice because it makes him feel like he saved the day. He enjoys playing the hero. It works, at least for now.

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