I bristled at that. A woman walked forward, her long silver hair tied back in a braid. “Rupert, you prove yet again your impeccable skill for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. It’s been a long time, Lynn. You may not recognize the few of us who were here back in the day.”
I cleared my throat. “I doubt you would have recognized me, or even remembered my name, if it hadn’t been for my husband.”
“Oh, I would have remembered,” the woman said, smiling warmly. “I would remember the nice girl with the pretty blond curls who listened—didn’t laugh at me, didn’t judge—actually listened to me talk about my brother. Didn’t think less of me when I twisted my hair like a little girl.” She reached up and twirled a strand. “I still do it.”
I tilted my head. “Barbara?”
The woman nodded. “And do you remember my brother’s name?”
Don Rush. Of course I remember. But I don’t know any of you. I could barely tell my best friend about my past. I’m not about to discuss my memories with strangers.
I forced a grimace. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“But I bet you remember his story.”
“I remember wishing I could have helped you more.”
“You did help.” She reached out and laid a hand on my arm. “You made me feel like I wasn’t crazy. You and Steven both. And you gave me this.”
She handed me a small laminated card, frayed and yellowed over time. I smiled at one of the prayer cards Steven gave me to hand out to the families of the missing.
“Do you remember this? It got me through a lot of hard times. I whispered it like a prayer: ‘You are with me. You are in the rain. You are in my tears. You are where the water falls,’” she recited.
I ran my fingers over the words, and Barbara closed my fingers around the card. “You keep it. Maybe it will bring you comfort now.”
“How about me?” asked a morbidly obese man who was leaning on a chair. My heart skipped a beat as I instantly remembered him.
Marcus Burg. You were there for one of the most frightening moments of my life. “I’m sorry, it’s been so long—”
“I wasn’t this fat back then. I was fat, just not megasized. Marcus, the guy with the telescope? Ham radio operator? Trying to pick up the little green men on the radio? We met in a cornfield once.”
“Oh yes, of course, Marcus.”
“Again, let’s everybody have a seat,” Doug repeated. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
A man in an expensive-looking Brooks Brothers suit frowned at Roxy. “No offense, ma’am, but this is highly sensitive information. I’ve never even seen you before. And I’ve only ever seen the politician’s wife on television.”
“Robert, at one time, this woman knew more about being a Researcher than you do,” Barbara said.
“Prove it,” the man insisted. “What’s the Arthur Crowning incident?”
He disappeared while fishing after a rainstorm, his gear and lunchbox left inside the boat.
I shifted my eyes.
“What about the Doyle Robinson disappearance?”
Doyle Robinson went hiking on a trail in Giant City in downstate Illinois. Hiked the trail all his life. Was never seen again. But if I tell you everything I remember, you’ll assume I’m still one of you. I have no idea what you intend to do with my memories.
I bit my lip. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember.”
“Those are only the most famous abduction cases in Illinois, and you don’t remember them? So, again, we’re here to make a deal with Steve’s old girlfriend, and she doesn’t even remember anything—”
“What about my brother Don?” Barbara asked quietly. “What do you remember about him?”
I will not, however, come off as a flake. “I remember he was your twin, and you were living in… Michigan. You awoke one night to lights in your bedroom. You went downstairs and found the door open, and you went to the window to see your brother standing out in a snowstorm. There were suddenly lights, and your brother was gone.”
The room was silent. Barbara nodded slowly. “Yes, that’s all true. You see, Robert, Lynn didn’t investigate the Crowning or Robinson cases. But she did mine. And she cared, too.”
I cared about all of them. I remember them all.
Doug cleared his throat. “We’re here to talk about Steven.”
“Yes,” I said. “Why isn’t he at the university?”
“The official word is that he was suspended for using university equipment, on university time, for personal use,” he responded. “That’s what Dean Fulton said. The only reason the dean even kept Steven around was because of his expertise. His articles about the gases on Mars alone have given this department a gold-star reputation in the academic world. But, as you may recall, Ms. Stanson—”
“It’s Roseworth.”
“Yes, as in Senator Roseworth, of course. You may recall, Mrs. Roseworth, that Steven is also terrible at playing the academic poker needed to stay ahead at this college. So I wasn’t surprised when I showed up a few months ago and saw his office locked. I was surprised, however, that he left me no message. Nothing. All I had was the official word from the university’s communications department that they severed ties with him, and that information was only supposed to be shared internally, not with anyone else.”
“When did this happen?” I asked.
“End of the summer semester.”
Roxy flashed me a look.
“Has there been no sign of him at all?” asked a woman in a long skirt, pulling her glasses up to rest on her crown of gray hair.
Barbara shook her head. “No, Mary.”
“I don’t understand,” the woman continued. “Steven was so excited this summer. The last I talked to him, he felt like he was making some breakthroughs, especially on the Abel and Notish cases. And then, suddenly, he was gone. We still have no idea why, Doug?”
“As I’ve told you, I came to work to find that the dean had his office locked up. So I came here, and everything had been cleaned out, practically. And that’s it.”
“So he just skipped town? And no one has had any word from him? I know this drips with irony, but should you have filed a missing-persons report?” Mary asked.
The room grew quiet, and Doug shifted uncomfortably. “Can you imagine the questions police would have asked? Once I told them that the dean suspected he was using university equipment for personal reasons, and that all his belongings were gone, they would have assumed he was just lying low.”
“Maybe he is,” Robert said, loosening his expensive tie. “Listen, Steven is a great colleague. An even better Researcher. But there might be some truth to what the university suspects—”
“Bullshit,” Doug interjected.
“—and Steven is trying to sort out his next move. But it’s been three months. Even if he had a reason to disappear like this, we need to find him. Just to make sure he’s OK.”
”Which brings us to why we wanted to meet with you, Lynn,” Doug said. “To see if we could help each other.”
“I’m not sure how I could help. I came here for help myself.”
Doug looked briefly to Robert. “We’re willing to share everything with you. All of the records we’ve stored on thumb drives, or on the cloud, on every case. And, course, the video.”
The room grew quiet and everyone looked at me, waiting.
“I’m sorry, what video?” I asked.
“Of course, you never saw it. It came to us years after you were gone,” Barbara said. “Show her, Doug. Pull it up on your laptop.”
Doug frowned. “Maybe we should finish talking about what we need her to do, first. I don’t know about sharing—”