Empire of Lies

I mentally vanish from this conversation and put on my best “utterly devastated and at a loss for words” face. Me coming here is officially a waste of my time, and I decide to call in another tip to The New York Times tonight to accelerate this sloppy, half-assed investigation.

When the sergeant’s lips finally stop moving, he stands up from his seat. “I’ll leave you three alone. If you have any concerns or other questions, I’ll be right across from you in my office.”

For several seconds, neither of us says a word. I look at my watch and try to think of an excuse to leave, but her father beats me to it.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Michael,” he says, reaching over and grabbing my hand. “So very sorry.”

What the fuck? “Meredith hasn’t been confirmed dead. She’s still missing.”

“Yes, well…” He shakes his head. “I’m holding out as much hope as I can, but I’ve always been a bit of a pessimist, I’m afraid.”

“It’s true,” her aunt chimes in. “I’m the one who is trying to keep the hope alive.”

“She really loved you, you know?” He smiled. “Even though we were just now getting closer, you were the first thing she brought up every day we met. With any luck, they’ll find her—dead or alive, I just want closure.”

“I’m sure you do…” I can’t hold a straight face anymore, so I stand to my feet. “Can you two excuse me? I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Absolutely,” they say in unison, and I get the hell out of there.

The moment I make it to the parking lot, I pull out my phone and check on Meredith. She’s no longer in the living room, and all of the other cameras are showing an empty house.

Confused, I rewind the video until I can see her writing a note at the dining room table. She leaves the sheet in perfect view for the cameras to see it, and then she ventures upstairs and into the one place where I don’t have any cameras. Her bedroom.

I zoom in on the note to catch a better view.

I’m ru