Page 46 of Forget Me Not
I fall silent, thinking of the article that reported on Marcia’s disappearance; the fact that she went missing with a bag then, too. Now I’m suddenly doubting myself, realizing that Ryan is probably right.
The bag could be anyone’s.
“Maybe they’re the kind of people who hide money in their mattress or something and that spot is like a makeshift safe. What else did you find in there?”
“The deed to their property,” I say, Liam’s voice emerging in the back of my mind as he talked about Mitchell and all of his quirks. He does seem like the kind of person who would distrust a bank, instead opting to keep his valuables hidden at home.
Not a big fan of modern medicine… or anything modern, for that matter.
“Okay,” Ryan says. “Seems like the kind of thing they’d want to keep safe. What else?”
“A wallet,” I say, and I can just see Ryan nodding, his theory cementing itself even further. “But the wallet had someone else’s license in it.”
“All right,” he continues, though I can hear a subtle shift in his voice. “There could still be an explanation for that. Anything else?”
“A gun,” I say, my eyes darting to the desk next, trying todecide if I should mention I took it. “Why would they have a gun hidden in their floor?”
“Because you’re in the middle of nowhere in South Carolina,” he says with a laugh. “Everyone around there has a gun.”
“Okay,” I concede, though my frustration is starting to mount, the fact that he clearly isn’t taking this seriously. “I get your point, but I’m telling you, Ryan. There’s something notrighthere. I’m worried about Marcia. I’m worried she’s being held against her will or something—”
“Claire,” he says, cutting me off, and I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek as he lets a small sigh slip through. “You realize what’s happening here, right?”
I stay silent, not sure what he’s getting at.
“This story in the city, the one from the bar. You said it was similar to what happened to your sister. That it dredged up a bunch of bad memories.”
I begin to ruminate on my last two months in New York, that case on the news consuming me slowly as I stayed up late, pored over evidence. The past and present beginning to blur.
“Do you think maybe you’re doing the same thing here?” he continues as I think next about how I’ve been draping Natalie’s voice on top of Marcia’s words; seeing glimmers of my sister in the most mundane details and that dream slowly morphing until she and Marcia were one and the same.
“But the bag,” I argue, trying to steady my voice. “The tea, and the articles—”
“All of that stuff is entirely circumstantial,” Ryan continues. “You’re worried about this woman because, what, she sleeps a lot? Maybe she’s sick. Maybe she’s battling some kind of disease that’s none of your business.”
“It’s more than that.”
“Okay, then is it because they live in solitude? Maybe they enjoytheir privacy—which, by the way, you’re completely disrespecting, snooping around their house like that.”
I swallow, embarrassed by the pitch of his voice. Ryan has never talked to me like this. He’s never scolded me like a child, doubted the validity of the things I’ve told him.
“Is it because she ran away with him when she was eighteen?” he pushes, talking faster now. “Because if so, she waseighteen,Claire. That’s perfectly legal. He didn’t kidnap her. She wasn’t a kid.”
“Natalie was eighteen,” I counter, immediately regretting it.
“See, this is what I’m talking about!” he barks, his voice growing louder, more desperate. “They’re not the same! This woman and your sister are not the same. What happened to Natalie was terrible, Claire, and I understand the desire to equate the two, but not every older man is a murderer, you know.”
“Then what about the deed,” I push, grasping at anything I can possibly find. “The deed didn’t have Mitchell’s name on it. It was the deed between the previous owners.”
“Okay…” Ryan says, not sure what I’m getting at.
“Why would he have the property deed from before it even belonged to him?”
“I don’t know,” Ryan concedes. “But there could be plenty of reasons. Maybe they’re family with different last names and he inherited the place after they died.”
“But Liam said it’s not family land.”
“Who is Liam?” he asks, sounding exhausted, and I feel a sudden spasm deep in my chest. A strange hesitation as I struggle to respond.
