“We’re going to keep searching,” I tell her. “We’ll keep looking for leads. We’re not giving up on Ashley.”
She nods, staring into the middle distance as though she’s seeing something I’m not.
“I want to do something for her,” she says.
“For Ashley?” I ask.
She nods, straightening up and lifting her chin slightly, trying to put on a brave face and get through this.
“Her eighteenth birthday was in June. We had a little family celebration for her, as we do every year, but there should have been more. I want to do a vigil for her. The date she went missing is coming up soon. August thirteenth,” she says.
“Okay. Do you want to do the vigil on that day?” I ask.
She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to honor that day. This needs to be about Ashley. I want to have the people who cared about her come together at her school and we’ll just share memories and talk about any progress in the case that can be shared. Just remind everybody that we still love Ashley and she hasn’t left our minds.”
“That’s a great idea. It’s a way to keep the community involved in the case, but it may also shake up anyone who might know more about what happened to her,” I say.
“So you’ll be there?” she asks.
I nod. “I’ll be there. And I’ll keep an eye out for anything that seems off.”
It seemed every time he turned on the TV, there was another mention of the case. Another opportunity to see Thirteen’s mother. She really was doing everything she could to force her daughter’s face into the thoughts of anyone watching. She wanted them to say her daughter’s name, to think like her. There was a strange, almost-deification happening.
This time, the news wasn’t just bringing flat, still images of her. This time it was another video.
“We’ve spent almost five years without our Ashley. We don’t want to hit that milestone without knowing what happened to her. That’s why we are asking all those who cared for Ashley to come to a belated celebration of her birthday and a vigil for her return. Please wear her favorite color, red, and come with memories to share.”
She continued to talk, but he wasn’t focused on what she was saying. He was watching her mouth move. Watching the sweep of her hair over her shoulder. She certainly looked different now. She looked as if she had gotten herself together.
It fascinated him.
Misty’s insistence that the vigil must happen before the fifth anniversary of Ashley’s going missing means it has to be put together quickly. Fortunately, the community has opened its heart to her since the reemergence of Ashley’s story; they are willing to do what they can to help her. For the three days leading up to the vigil, it seemed every news outlet was streaming constant reminders, pictures of Ashley from around the time of her disappearance, and video clips of her parents pleading for any information about what happened to her.
It’s not a surprise when we drive in as the vigil is getting underway to find a sea of red balloons and t-shirts spread across the soccer field outside Ashley’s former middle school. For the last couple of days, I’ve been trying to press Creagan into giving me the files related to Greg’s death that he’d promised. He’s had plenty of excuses for not giving them over, but he’s still saying he’ll send them to me. While at the same time checking in with me about how Ava is doing.
It feels as if we’re playing a game of chess.
Even without the files in hand, I knew I needed to get back into town for the vigil. I need to see if the public display proves too appealing to someone wanting to relive his own handiwork. I’ve requested that all of the evidence found at the lake having to do with Ashley be set aside so I can go through it. I need to understand how those items ended up submerged with the victims of Laura and Rodney when they had nothing to do with her disappearance.
I’ll go over those things later this afternoon. Right now, my focus has to be on the people swarmed into the field and how they are reacting to the event. For some of them, it’s the spectacle. That’s inevitable for an event like this. People are going to come out just to witness the emotion unfolding around them. Some want to feel as if they’re a part of something, some just want to see it happening.
For others, this is a time for them to remember the young teenager, so close to still being a little girl, who was taken from their lives in a way none understands yet.
My hope is that there will be another person there. Someone who doesn’t fit into either category. I watch the people listening to Misty up on the podium, talking about Ashley and everything she would be doing with her life now if she was still there with them.
A person’s going missing, especially when it’s a child, is like a dropped stone in the middle of a pond. It doesn’t just affect the people closest to that center point. The impact drifts out all the way to the far edges.
Somewhere among them, there could be that one person who was drawn here to watch the ripples.
Among the group crowded closest to the stage with the podium, I see Allison and Vivian. They see me looking at them and turn away as fast as they can. So far, neither of them has submitted DNA. According to the detective, both were disgusted and offended when he asked.
I told him to get warrants.
Misty finishes her speech and steps aside to let John come up and take a turn. He laughs and cries his way through memories of Ashley, who he calls his daughter with every drop of love
