When she got to the tent, another officer said, “Sheriff Walker and Investigator Tremont said you should wait here.”
She nodded and sat on a foldout canvas chair, the same kind parents used on the sidelines at soccer games. There were dozens of law enforcement cars—some marked, some not—parked every which way. There were uniformed cops, cops in street clothes, and several officers sporting nifty FBI windbreakers. Many were on laptops. In the distance, Wendy could hear the clacking whir of a helicopter.
Standing by herself on the edge of the woods was a young girl Wendy recognized as Patricia McWaid, Haley’s younger sister. Wendy debated whether this was the right time or not—but the debate didn’t last long. Opportunity knocking and all that. She started toward the girl, telling herself that this was not about nailing a big story but about finding out what really happened to Haley and Dan.
A new theory had wormed its way into her brain. Patricia McWaid might have information that could prove or disprove it.
“Hi,” Wendy said to the young girl.
The girl gave a little startled jump. She turned and faced Wendy. “Hello.”
“My name is Wendy Tynes.”
“I know,” Patricia said. “You live in town. You’re on TV.”
“That’s right.”
“You also did a story on the man who had Haley’s phone.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think he hurt her?”
Wendy was surprised by the girl’s directness. “I don’t know.”
“Pretend you had to guess—do you think he hurt her?”
Wendy thought about it. “I don’t think he hurt her, no.”
“Why not?”
“Just a thought. I have no reason for believing that. Like I said, I really don’t know.”
Patricia nodded. “Fair enough.”
Wendy debated how to approach this. Start with something small like, “Were you and your sister close?” Normally that was the way to go with any interview. Open with some softball questions. Get them relaxed, develop a rapport, get them in the rhythm. But even without the time constraint—Tremont and Walker could pop up any second—that felt like the wrong track. This girl had been direct with her. She might as well try the same.
“Did your sister ever mention Dan Mercer?”
“The police asked me that.”
“And?”
“No. Haley never mentioned him.”
“Did Haley have a boyfriend?”
“The police asked me that too,” Patricia said. “First day she vanished. Investigator Tremont must have asked me that a million times since. Like I was hiding something.”
“Were you?”
“No.”
“So did she have a boyfriend?”
“I think so, yeah. But I don’t know. It was like a secret or something. Haley could be private with stuff like that.”
Wendy felt her pulse pick up a bit. “Private how?”
“She’d sneak out and meet up with him sometimes.”
“How did you know about it?”
“She told me. To, you know, cover if our parents asked.”
“How often did she do this?”
“Maybe two, three times.”
“Did she ask you to cover for her the night she vanished?”
“No. The last time was like a week before that.”
Wendy considered this. “And you told the police all this?”
“Sure. Day one.”
“Did they ever find the boyfriend?”
“I think so. I mean, they said they found him.”
“Can you tell me who it was?”
“Kirby Sennett. A guy in our school.”
“Do you think it was Kirby?”
“You mean, was he her boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
Patricia shrugged. “I guess so, yeah.”
“You don’t sound certain.”
“Like I said, she never told me. I was just supposed to cover for her.”
The helicopter flew overhead. Patricia cupped a hand over her eyes and looked up. She swallowed deep and hard. “It still doesn’t feel real. Like she’s just away on a trip and one morning she’ll be back home.”
“Patricia?”
She lowered her gaze.
“Do you think Haley ran away?”
“No.”
Just like that.
“You seem pretty certain.”
“Why would she run away? Sure, maybe she liked to sneak a drink every once in a while, stuff like that. But Haley was happy, you know? She liked school. She liked lacrosse. She liked her friends. And she loved us. Why would she run away?”
Wendy considered that.
“Ms. Tynes?” Patricia said.
“Yes?”
“What are you thinking?”
She didn’t want to lie to this girl. She also didn’t want to tell her. Looking off, Wendy hesitated just long enough.
“What’s going on here?” They both turned. County Investigator Frank Tremont stood with Sheriff Walker. He did not look happy. He cut a glance at Walker. Walker nodded and said, “Patricia, why don’t you come with me?”
Walker and Patricia headed toward the police tent, leaving Tremont alone with Wendy. He frowned at her. “Man, I hope this wasn’t a ploy to talk to the family.”
“It’s not.”
“So what have you got?”
“Dan Mercer liked younger girls.”
Tremont gave her flat eyes. “Wow, that’s helpful.”
“Something about the whole Dan Mercer case has rubbed me wrong from day one,” she went on. “No reason to go into details right now, but I’ve just never been able to buy him as a purely evil predator. I just spoke to an old classmate of his from Princeton. He can’t believe Dan would abduct anyone.”
“Wow, that’s also helpful.”
“But he did confirm that Dan liked younger girls. I’m not saying the guy wasn’t a scum bucket. Sounds like he was. But my point is, he seemed to do it on a more consensual, less, I don’t know, violent basis.”
Tremont did not look impressed. “So?”
“So Patricia says Haley had a secret boyfriend.”
“Not so secret. It’s a local punk-wannabe named Kirby Sennett.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sure about what?” Tremont paused. “Wait, what are you saying?”
“According to Patricia, Haley sneaked out a few times—the last time a week before she vanished. She said that Haley asked her to cover for her.”