Page 31 of The Wolves Come at Night
“Mrs. Conway? I’m Captain Jackson, Metro Nashville Police, and you’ve already talked with Detective Wade. I’m assisting the detective with your daughter’s case. Thank you for agreeing to meet us.”
“Thank you for arranging this meeting so quickly.” Conway ushered them in, and graciously offered to order up some coffee or tea, or dinner, considering the hour.
“We’re fine, ma’am, thank you,” Marcus said, gesturing toward the sofa.
Avery Conway had booked a two-room corner suite with a beautiful view of downtown. The sun had set, and the lights twinkled in the foreground, so similar to Taylor’s view only a few blocks away. Taylor thought all that space was a hopeful gesture—that her daughter would be found and they could bunk down together, try to forget a bit of the terror Carson had suffered. Let her be safe, she thought. Let her come home.
They got settled, Taylor surreptitiously assessing the woman. Conway was probably only a few years older than herself but ravaged. Her hair was mussed, her eyes were red, her skin was gray with worry. But she sat tall, back ramrod straight, and her voice didn’t waver.
“Have you gotten any leads?”
Taylor shook her head. “Nothing that has our attention at the moment. I know this is difficult, and you must be scared, but we need information. We need to find out as much as we can about Carson. About her state of mind, the way she acts when she’s scared or threatened. Is it possible she’s run away?”
“No. There is no chance she’s run away.”
“Considering the situation, I think there is a small chance. The death of Georgia Wray has created a media blitz—”
“Trust me. She didn’t. I am 100 percent certain of that.”
There was a finality in Conway’s tone that made Taylor sit up.
“Can you tell me why you’re so sure?”
Conway sucked in a breath. “I know my girl. She’s just not the type to run away from a situation, especially without looping me in. She’s brave and smart and cautious. She’s also still very dependent on me, and on her family. Losing her father the way we did brought us closer together than you might expect for a teenager. She would reach out to me before she ran away from a situation.”
“She didn’t tell you about the murder she witnessed.”
The look Conway shot her dropped the temperature in the room ten degrees.
“Someone’s taken her. You’re wasting time following any other theory.”
“Fair enough. I hate to say I tend to agree with you, because of the situation she found herself in, though I don’t know what the connection is yet.”
“I just don’t understand how someone disappears from the middle of a city, from a campus as populated as Vanderbilt. The university has ever-present security, and I know the cameras are on most corners. Have the videos been searched? Have all of her friends been contacted?”
“They do have cameras, and we did think of that. There’s been nothing unusual thus far. It’s possible she was taken from somewhere off-campus. Nashville is a big place.”
“We were worried about that.”
“We?”
“My friend.” Conway glanced toward the bedroom door, and on cue, a stocky, dark-haired man appeared in the doorway. Taylor and Marcus both shifted in surprise, but he called, “Friendly,” and put his hands up. “I’m Santiago Diaz-Rooney, we bought the bakery from Mrs. Conway when her husband passed. I didn’t want her traveling alone.”
He came to stand behind Conway’s chair, putting his hands palm down on the back. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Avery called me when she got word about Carson disappearing, and I offered to help in any way I can.”
Diaz-Rooney gave off the air of a professional. Taylor could practically smell it on him. Interesting. “You say you run a bakery?”
He nodded. “Yes. Now.”
Now. Sure, pal. You’re just the friendly neighborhood baker.
Conway dragged a hand through her hair and shook her head. “My God, what a mess. I just want to find my girl.”
Taylor brought her focus back. “Dr. Conway, I hear you. That’s all we want too, to find Carson safe and unharmed. This is a terribly difficult moment for you, I know. But if there is anything, anything, you know that could help me find your daughter, now is the time to tell me. I sense we’re not getting the whole story. Maybe there’s something we’ve missed that we can use to find Carson. Anything you can share, even the most inconsequential thing, could make all the difference.”
Conway twisted her hands in her lap. Her knuckles were turning white. Taylor couldn’t help the thought. You know more than you’re saying. And it’s eating you up inside.
“I don’t know what I can give you that will help. I don’t know what she’s gotten into. Yes, she didn’t tell me about the murder she witnessed. I’ve been very careful to keep out of her hair since she left for school. I was trying to help her build some autonomy. If I called four times a day, she’d never have a chance to grow up properly. So we established we’d talk once a week. Sundays.” Her voice grew softer. “She loves school. She loves the freedom. She might not say it aloud, but I can hear it in her voice. This is an adventure, and after her father’s death, she needed an adventure. She needed something to pull her away from the bad memories.” A single tear slipped down Avery Conway’s lovely, ravaged face. “And now, she is going through something unspeakable. She will be forever damaged. And it’s my fault. I should have insisted she stay in New Haven, go to Yale, where I could keep an eye on her.”
