“How’s that?”
“They had some weird shit going on. I mean, no one’s family is perfect. But it’s like they had this crazy vibe. The mother puts up this facade. She wants them to appear perfect, but they have problems like anyone else. She and Tins fought all the time.”
“About what?”
“All kinds of stuff. Her father. How much money they wasted on stuff. The environment. Politics. Her parents are staunch conservatives. Tins is very progressive. I spent one weekend at their Michigan summerhouse and swore I’d never do it again.”
“Speaking of politics, did you know Tinsley had a black boyfriend?”
He smiled. “No, but I’m not surprised. Tinsley is the kind of girl that doesn’t see color like that.”
I thought about what my father had said about everyone seeing color, even the most liberal. It didn’t seem it would be helpful to inject that into the present conversation.
“What has he said about her disappearance?” Blair asked.
“Not much lately,” I said. “He’s dead.”
“Dead like he just died, or dead like he was killed?”
“The latter.”
Blair’s eyes widened as he sat back in his chair. Murder was not a normal part of the lexicon in this leafy Connecticut city.
“Tell me about some of her friends,” I said. “Did she have lots of them, or was she more of a loner? She didn’t seem to have many in her IG posts.”
“Tins was a popular girl,” Blair said. “But she really didn’t let a lot of people in. I mean, people liked her a lot and invited her to everything, but she was just one of those girls who always had her guard up. You thought you knew her, but you really didn’t. Even though the money didn’t matter to her. She was almost embarrassed by it. She didn’t like it when other people found out about her family. Made her uncomfortable.”
“What about her best friend, Hunter Morgan?” I asked.
Blair rolled his eyes. “The sentry still stands,” he said.
“Meaning?”
“Hunter is a big reason why Tins never got close to anyone. She was always so damn protective, even with people who had their own shit and didn’t give a damn about the Gerrigan name or money. Hunter was always there, even when she didn’t need to be. She went to Georgetown, but almost every weekend she was on our campus. She was a pain in the ass.”
“Sounds like a sore subject,” I said.
“Fighting for your girlfriend’s attention gets old,” he said. “Especially when you should be the priority.”
“But Tinsley didn’t see it that way?”
“Unfortunately, as strong and independent as Tins could be, when it came to Hunter, Tins saw what Hunter wanted her to see.”
“Which was?”
“That she was her most loyal friend and would do anything for her.”
“Like?”
“Like when we went to Chicago one weekend to go to a Cubs game and she tried to kick some guy’s ass that was flirting with Tins at a bar in Wrigley. Punched out two of his teeth. They had to pull Hunter off him. She went totally ballistic.”
“Sounds like an excessive response for simple barroom flirtations.”
“We all know it wasn’t just the guy that had set her off,” Blair said. “Hunter had her own crush on Tins, but Tins didn’t see it that way.”
34
THE ENTIRE FLIGHT BACK to Chicago I couldn’t stop thinking about what Blair Malone had said about Tinsley’s relationship with Hunter and her relationship with her parents. What was it that Tinsley saw in Hunter that caused her to have a blind spot the rest of her friends clearly didn’t have? Then there were the family dynamics. I already knew that something wasn’t right, but Blair made me suspect that this wasn’t just the normal family dysfunction. There was something troubling that ran deep, and they were doing all they could to keep it buried.
That suspicion was confirmed only the next day when I found myself sitting across from Violet Gerrigan, who wore a fitted emerald-green wool skirt with a matching jacket and a strand of pearls, bigger than the one she’d worn the first time we met and heavy enough to sink a cruise ship. The crocodile-skin purse adeptly matched the suit. I imagined every day she walked out of her manse was like a big middle finger to PETA.
“I am grateful for all that you’ve done,” she began. “But I will no longer be needing your services.” She opened her bag with a quick slide of an enormous gold lock and pulled out a check. She placed it on my desk, but I kept my eye on her.
“You’re firing me?” I said. This was the first time someone had asked me to stop in the middle of the investigation.
“I’m not firing you at all,” she said. “You’ve worked very hard, and I appreciate all your efforts. I’m letting you know that you’ve done enough.”
“But I haven’t finished the job,” I said. “You hired me to find your daughter, and she’s still missing.”
“I understand and appreciate your determination, but we’ve decided to make this a more private matter.”
“Doesn’t get more private than a private investigator.”
She smiled tightly, as if she were making an accommodation. It was like patting me on the head. Good little boy.
“I’m sure you will agree I’ve compensated you generously for your time and efforts,” she said, nodding toward the check on my desk. I picked it up and let out a whistle. Two hundred and fifty thousand. Even by my standards that was impressive for just shy of two weeks’ worth of work.
“Who sent you here?” I said.
“I beg your pardon,” she said, her neck stiff.
“Who sent you here to fire me?”
“Excuse me, but no one sent me here,” she said indignantly. “I don’t get sent anywhere.”
I wondered if they had called off the police too.
“Do you know where your daughter is?”
“I do not.”
I didn’t believe her for a second.
“Do you still want to find her?” I asked.
“What kind of ridiculous question is that?”
“Not ridiculous at all. You claim that you don’t know where she is, and I’m
