Page 108 of Girl Between
“Three women have gone missing from your family,” George said.
“Is that an accusation?”
“Just an observation,” he replied.
Miriam sighed. “Tragedy does seem to befall us. The curse of having a large family, I suppose.” She shrugged. “Or perhaps just a curse.”
“A curse?” Dana’s interest piqued. “How so?”
“My great-granddaddy was a litigious man.” Miriam gave a nonchalant wave. “Our family’s been lucky with wealth, but not much else. Makes a person wonder. Sins of the father and such.”
“Chloe and Veronica, did you have any knowledge of theirwhereabouts? Who they might’ve interacted with around the time of their disappearance?”
“No,” Miriam replied. “I told you; I didn’t know them. I told that to the officers who came asking back then, too. It should be in their reports.”
George scribbled in his notebook, then shut it. “It is, we’re just being thorough.”
“I appreciate that. It’s just … They’ve been missing a long time. Why the interest now? Unless …” Miriam put a hand to her boney chest. “You found them?”
George nodded. “We did.”
Miriam paled to a sickly shade of white. “And Elizabeth?”
“No ma’am. We’ve not uncovered any new information about your daughter.”
“But Chloe and Veronica … You think whoever took them, took Elizabeth?” she asked.
“There’s no evidence to support that as of now,” answered George.
“But that’s why you’re here,” Miriam surmised. “You found something that pointed you in my direction?”
George stood slowly. “We can’t talk about an on-going investigation.”
“Please, if you know something about my daughter …”
George crossed the room and took Miriam’s trembling hand. “If I learn anything new, you’ll be my first call. You have my word.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “Truly.”
“But, if you wouldn’t mind, we have a few more questions.”
94
Taurant had been right,Dana realized as she gazed out at Miriam Barton’s manicured backyard. The Goldsmith-Godchaux House—now a NOSA office—was only a few blocks away. Elizabeth Barton could’ve easily ridden her bike that far as a child.
Minus its sidewalks, the Garden District seemed a safe, tranquil family neighborhood. There was rarely a siren, and the only activity Dana had seen in the past hour came from couples with strollers or dog walkers.
“It must be hard to stay here,” Dana expressed, watching another family stroll by.
“I think it’d be harder to leave,” Miriam replied, observing her housekeeper who’d just brought tea service into the sunny room.
George had excused himself to take a phone call a few moments ago, prompting Miriam to call for tea. Dana was doubtful teatime was on his agenda for the day, but she knew George’s Southern hospitality would prevent him from denying the grieving woman such a simple pleasantry, even though they’d already spent too much time in the mausoleum of a home, since Miriam insisted on giving them a tour to explain the method behind her madness of the missing women wallpaper.
Dana took the gold rimmed teacup and saucer the housekeeper offered, but noticed Miriam ignored hers. Her fingers on the stem of her empty martini glass, absentmindedly turning it on the table.
During their brief line of questioning, Dana learned the woman had alienated herself from her friends and relatives. She’d divorced Elizabeth’s father five years after their daughter’s disappearance, citingirreconcilable differences. But from the state of the missing persons’ wallpaper, Dana hedged it was onesingle difference—Miriam’s inability to stop searching for her daughter.
According to Miriam, it also drove a wedge between her and the other grieving parents of the Harvest Girls, whom she said expressed that they preferred to distance themselves from Miriam because she refused to move on.
