Page 57 of Just Right

"None of your business," he said in a tone that was final.

"What happened to her?" Cami asked again. "Why did you abandon her?"

"Cami," her father said, his voice tight. "I don't want to talk about this."

"You have to talk about it," Cami said, angry now, her voice rising. "It's important. It's my life. It's my sister's life. It's all of our lives."

"I don't know what you mean," her father said, his words clipped. His tone was impatient now, as if Cami was making a nuisance of herself.

"You know what I mean," Cami said. "I've been doing some research."

"You've been snooping around?" her father asked. "Playing detective?" His tone was heavily sarcastic. There was no way she was going to tell him that she'd been working for the FBI. Now was not the time for that. It would complicate the situation. It would not endear him to her at all.

"It's more like being a researcher. I suspect there was information on the case that never made it into the file. I'd like to know if that's true. Because if it is, aren't you angry? As a policeman yourself, didn't you want things to be done right?"

Her father was silent. Was it possible that the logical argument had convinced him? Was he going to finally tell her what she knew was being left unsaid?

He sighed heavily. "Cami, no," he said. "I'm not ready to do that. And you need to stop asking. If you know what is good for you."

There was a pause as if he was about to say something else. And then there was a click.

He'd disconnected the call. Cami drew in a sharp, affronted, dismayed breath. He'd just cut her off! How was she ever going to find out the truth?

She stood up from her seat in her small student room and paced back and forth, wondering what her next move should be. The room was big enough for four paces, wall to wall. Angrily, feeling like a caged lion, she strode the distance.

And then, just as she was still taking in that her father had so rudely told her no, her phone rang.

It was “Home.” Had he reconsidered?

Hope flaring, Cami answered the call. But to her astonishment, she found herself speaking to her mother, her voice a semi whisper.

"Cami!"

"Mom?"

"Your dad's gone out. I think he was angry after the call."

"He has?" Cami asked warily. “Why are you calling me, then?”

Her mother hesitated. "Listen, don't tell him I called. I . . . I overheard the conversation. And what you were asking."

"Do you know more?" Cami said. Of course her mother knew more. As silent and submissive as she might be, but she had listened at the right times, Cami was sure.

"Yes. I don't know everything. But I know that Jenna was somehow involved with an older man. I don't think it was romantic. I think it was something else—at first, anyway. He was trouble. I knew it immediately. I wanted them to investigate him but they never did, and the case seemed to somehow disappear after that."

The words rushed out of her mother as if she'd held them in for a long time.

Cami couldn't believe it. She felt as if she'd been physically slapped in the face by this knowledge. There had been someone who'd withheld evidence. Jenna had gotten caught up in something, but what, Cami had no idea.

"Who is this man?" Cami asked.

"I heard his name once."

"What is it?"

"Liam. Liam Treverton." Her mother hesitated. "Your dad’s coming back. I must go."

She cut the call, leaving Cami feeling paralyzed by disbelief.

Jenna had been involved with Liam Treverton before she went missing and the case had been sabotaged.

Liam Treverton was the FBI agent who'd handled the missing persons case and who'd since been dismissed from the Bureau in disgrace.

Staring down at his name, Cami felt a cold rage build inside her. She was going to pursue this, by whatever means it took, and no matter the risk to herself. And she knew what her next move would be.