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“What about online, does she have anyone online that she—”
“No.” She cuts me off. “Believe me, I’ve thought about that, but she only has one social media app, and I check it regularly.”
“Has she been in contact with her family?”
“No, not that I’m aware of.” Her chin wobbles. “She hasn’t spoken to her mom in two years, and she hasn’t had a visit with her since she was thirteen. And that was her choice, not mine. Her mom has been fighting a drug addiction for years, and has tried to get clean numerous times, but sadly she has lost that battle over and over again.”
“Her dad?”
“He’s out of the picture.”
“How does she get along with your husband and your other kids?”
“Great, and she loves the boys. They are all really close, which is another reason why this is so hard and why I know that something is wrong. I just . . . I just don’t think that she would leave them.”
“What do you think happened?”
“I wish I knew. I honestly have been thinking about this every day, all day.”
“Have there been any big changes?”
“My stepson Lucas moved home after he graduated from college, but they have known each other for years, so it wasn’t like it was a big deal.”
“They get along all right?”
“Yeah, all the kids do.”
“Do you mind showing me her space?”
“Sure.” She takes me upstairs, and we pass by two open doors to what look like your typical boys’ bedrooms before we enter Romey’s room. Stepping over the threshold, I take it in; it looks like any other teenage girl’s bedroom. There are clothes that need to be put away, trinkets and makeup on the dresser. The walls are covered with posters and pictures of her and her friends. The space is all hers, and it’s once again obvious that Romey isn’t just a foster kid living in the Millers’ house—this is her house.
“Can you tell me if she took anything with her?”
“Blankets, a couple pillows, some clothes, and a few of her books, and money she had been saving from her allowance,” she says, and there is something about that list of items that puts me on edge. If you were running away, you’d take more than that. Those things make it sound like she was going to a sleepover.
After spending a few more minutes looking around for anything out of place, I follow her out.
“Is that another bedroom?” I ask when I notice that there is only one closed door on the floor.
“That goes up to the attic, Lucas’s room.”
“How is their relationship?” I ask, and she lifts her shoulders ever so slightly. “He was in college when she moved in with us, so they didn’t spend a lot of time together, but they have always gotten along when he’s been here.”
“All right.” I follow her back downstairs. “Do you mind giving me her friends’ parents’ phone numbers? I’d like to talk to them and ask a few questions.”
“Sure.” She goes to get her phone, and I write down the numbers she gives me. After promising to do everything I can to find Romey, I tell her that I will be in touch and head out to my cruiser. Before I head back to the sheriff’s office, I stop by the high school and talk to the principal. During our meeting he tells me that Romey isn’t the best student in terms of her grade point average, but she puts in a lot of effort, and none of her teachers have ever had an issue with her.
Honestly, everything I learn about her puts me more on edge. I might feel different if she was a teenager who had checked out of her life long before she disappeared. But she seems to have been fully involved with her friends, family, and school up until the night she either took off or went missing. And that tells me that there was something more going on. And I can’t help but wonder if that something has to do with Barbra’s stepson, who moved back home around the time of her disappearance.
Chapter 18:
Pleasantries
Genevieve
After parking in front of Cali’s Diner, I get out with my bag, walk across the sidewalk, and pull open the door. The place is buzzing, and it feels like everyone is here for lunch today. Scanning the room, I spot Anna and Tiffany at a booth in the back and hustle toward them with my stomach growling. The shake that Wyatt made me this morning held me over for a couple of hours, but by eleven I felt like I was on the verge of starving, and now I’m ravenous. If I don’t get something to eat soon, I might gnaw off my own arm. When Tiffany sees me, she lifts her hand to wave, and Anna turns to look over her shoulder and gives me a small smile.
I’m relieved to see the smile, but more relieved to see that she hasn’t been crying.
