Beautiful brown eyes study me intensely. “Babysitter.”
I glance over at Sterling, who silently confirms it. “I see. Do you like Caroline?”
“She’s fun,” he replies. “Your name?”
“I’m Quinn,” I say, introducing myself. “And what’s your name?”
He points to himself. “Gabriel.” With a squeal, he runs over and grabs his cup. “Juice.”
I take the spill-proof cup from him and eye Sterling. “You thought of everything.”
His face is inscrutable. “Not everything. Can you watch him while I go let Caroline in?” He holds up his phone to show a video of an older woman walking up to the door.
The doorbell rings.
I flash the little boy a smile. “Let’s go get you some juice, Gabriel.” He reaches up and grabs my hand, and we walk over to the kitchen to get a refill.
When Sterling returns, an older woman, in her late fifties or early sixties, is standing next to him laughing. “Caroline, this is Quinn. She’s staying here with us.”
She holds out her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Her eyes take in my bruised and cut face. “Goodness, were you in an accident?”
Her light blue eyes are full of concern. “Nice to meet you, too. Yes, a few days ago.”
Gabriel lets go of my hand and runs over to Caroline.
“Good morning, Gabriel,” she says, crouching down to give him a hug. “What are we playing today?”
He thinks about it for a second. “Dinosaurs.”
“Rowr,” she roars, her hands up in the air.
He laughs and squeals.
“Okay, let’s get dressed, then we’ll play dinosaurs,” she says firmly, holding out her hand.
When they’re out of sight, I turn to Sterling. “Can I get the password to the Wi-Fi? I’ve got some things I need to take care of.”
He grabs a pen and notepad from the side table and writes it down, then hands me the paper. “Almost all of the women from the facility came to Miami. We’ve been able to get IDs and official documents for roughly thirty of them, but we have a long way to go. If you want to join us when you get done, just let me know. I’ll send a car to pick you up.”
“Thanks, if I finish, I’ll text you,” I say, eager to start searching for the footage of Sophia and Julio. Before I go upstairs, I pause. “Caroline seems really nice, and Gabriel likes her a lot. Thank you for taking such good care of him and making sure he has everything he needs.”
He stiffens. “You don’t have to thank me for taking care of Gabriel. He’s a wonderful little boy. I’ll see you later.”
* * *
Decidingto tackle this like an investigation, I block off the time period—two months before her disappearance—and write a list of her favorite places in Austin. It’s not a long list. A coffee shop, bookstore, three restaurants, and two bars. We never looked at these places in the investigation. She disappeared from the River Walk and all our focus remained there when nothing unusual turned up at school or work.
By ten a.m., I have the footage for the coffee shop. Sophia never drank coffee after noon. It hurt her stomach. So, I concentrate on the mornings. The first time her face flashes on the screen, it shocks me. I quickly freeze the video to stare at her. She’s alone. Wearing leggings and a sweatshirt, and carrying her backpack, she’s obviously on her way to class. The barista says something to her, and she laughs.
I rewind the scene at least ten times. The laugh kills me. She looks so happy. When water hits my hand, I glance down in confusion. It takes me a minute to figure out it’s coming from me. I’m crying. Something I hadn’t done since her funeral. God, she was amazing.
Finally tearing myself away from that clip, I save it and keep searching. The following week, she comes in around eleven a.m. Instead of leggings and a sweatshirt, she’s wearing a cute summer dress. I sit up straighter. Sophia only wore dresses when she was on a date.
The man behind her is tall. So tall, she only comes up to his chest. His hands are on her shoulders and she’s laughing up at him. They step forward, and I pause the video. It’s Julio. He’s looking down at Sophia with a bemused smile on his face.
I hit play again and watch while she orders them both a coffee and pays for it. Together, they move to the side to wait for their order. Not once do their eyes leave each other, and they stand close, barely an inch between them. She’s animated, talking and laughing with her hands, and he’s hanging on her every word. Even in the video, the chemistry is explosive.
Her heads swivels to the counter, and they move forward to pick up their drinks. Her friend, the barista, says something to her, and she laughs and pats Julio’s chest. They move away, but I catch something unusual at the end. Rewinding it, I play it again, but slower. Julio is scowling at the barista behind Sophia’s back.