Page 42 of The Whisper Place
The woman’s eye lingered on the phone. Her voice, when it came again, was unsteady. “I can’t help you.”
Jonah kept the photo in her line of sight. “We might be able to help you.”
“Are you the police?”
“No. We just want to make sure Kate’s all right.”
The woman slammed the door. Jonah took a deep breath and shook his head. “Just wait.”
Almost a minute passed before the latch scraped against wood and the door opened. The woman wore sweats dusted with flour and a faded pair of slippers. In her hand she held a knife.
The house was small and bright, with framed abstract art prints on every wall. Knickknacks and plants spilled over the shelves and the whole place smelled of cinnamon. It reminded me of the bakery, and within five seconds I was convinced Kate either was here or had been at one point. There weren’t any photographs in sight, but every instinct told me we were on the right track.
Jonah flashed me a look as the woman led us through the house to a covered patio table in the backyard. It said, clearly,shut up and let me handle this.
And he was right. The woman fidgeted, unwilling to meet our eyes as she glanced across the fence to the other side of the duplex,where an older Asian couple worked in their garden, despite the rain. Her weapon, an efficient-looking carving knife, lay on the table a few inches from her fingers. She was saying volumes, none of it spoken.
There were only two chairs for the table. I let Jonah sit next to her and hung back in the corner of the patio, trying to seem as unobtrusive as possible. I’d already run property records as we crossed the street. The entire duplex was owned by a Mr. and Mrs.Le, who I assumed were the couple weeding next door.
“Who do you work for?”
“Ourselves.” Jonah laid a business card gently in front of the woman. “We run a PI agency out of Iowa City.”
“You’re really not the police?” Her words and tone were excruciatingly careful. She still didn’t want to look at us, but chanced a glance at Jonah.
Jonah jerked his head in my direction. “He used to be, but he got over it.”
Another long silence as Jonah read everything in her head. It was starting to drive me crazy, being the only one on the outside of this nonverbal conversation.
“Why do you think Kate’s in trouble?” the woman asked.
Jonah twitched suddenly, like a seizure. His hands fisted under the table and he started breathing hard and fast. The woman jumped up, taking the knife with her. “What’s wrong with him?”
The truth wouldn’t make sense—that the thing twisting Jonah up right now was whatever was wrong withher. I stepped forward and laid a hand on Jonah’s chair. “He has episodes. Don’t worry; he’ll be fine.”
She looked more worried than ever. “I think you need to go now.”
“Are you Kate’s mom?” It didn’t take a former cop to mark the resemblance between them, and the tone in her voice when she asked if Kate was in trouble all but confirmed it.
She looked at me as if weighing her options before answering. “Yes.”
Briefly, I explained our case and how Kate had disappeared a week and a half ago without a trace. She sank back into her chair, staring blindly at the patio tile.
“Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”
The woman shook her head tightly, tears filling her eyes. Jonah looked better—the color was coming back into his face—but like a masochist he stayed at the table instead of giving himself a break and taking a lap around the block.
“Is there anyone in her life who might have wished her harm?”
Kate’s mom wiped her eyes. “I don’t know how to answer that.”
Jonah leaned in, waiting until he caught her gaze and held it. His breathing was still ragged.
“Why don’t you tell us about the man you and your daughter buried?”
It took another hour of coaxing, explaining Jonah’s abilities and sharing pictures of my family, before Valerie Campbell was comfortable enough to tell her story.
“I raised Kate on my own. I was young when I had her—twenty-three—and her dad didn’t stick around long. We got by, though. I worked in daycare centers where I could bring Kate to work with me and then for the school districts so I could have summers off with her. We never had much, but she never needed much. She was always grateful for the littlest things. A trip to McDonald’s, abus ride to see a rose garden in bloom. It was so easy to raise Kate. Sometimes I worried it was too easy, that the universe would tip the other way and there’d be a difficult phase ahead. I was right, I guess. It just wasn’t how I expected it. The worst things never are.”
