Page 13 of Little Secrets
“I’m back.” Castro drops into her seat. Marin notices, and not for the first time, how slim she is. A size 4, maybe even a 2. Marin’s never been that tiny. Not even when she was sixteen and bulimic.
The PI looks at her closely. Marin knows she looks fine, and she wonders if the other woman is judging her for it. Is it more acceptable for her to be a basket case than to handle all this information about Derek like a champ? She wants Castro to like her. Marin wants her to feel for her, but not feel sorryforher.
She’s never done well with other people’s pity, especially other women. She does, on the other hand, crave their validation. She suspects it comes from having a mother who was really hard on her, right up until the day she died.
“I put a small file together for you, if you want to look at it when you get home.” Castro types something. “I just emailed it to you.”
Marin’s phone vibrates a few seconds later. She pulls it out of her pocket and checks to make sure the file opens properly. She taps on it and it downloads. “Got it,” she says.
“I want to be honest with you.” For the first time since they met, Castro looks upset. “When I got these photos yesterday, I wasn’t even sure I should tell you about it. It isn’t what you hired me for, and I thought it might be possible that you already knew about the affair. I didn’t want to make it awkward. You’re already dealing with a lot.”
“You did the right thing,” Marin says. “I was clear with you at the beginning, and I asked you to tell me everything you discovered. Don’t feel bad. I’d rather know. I… I can’t deal with any more unknowns.”
Castro exhaled. “Okay. That’s what I figured.”
She catches the PI glancing at her watch. That must be it for today, then. Marin finishes the second bottle of water, then reaches for her coat. It feels like she’s moving in slow motion. Being emotionally blindsided knocks the wind out of a person.
“One more thing, before you go,” Castro says gently. “This might be a good time to reevaluate our goals here.”
Marin pauses, resting her coat in her lap. “What do you mean? My goals haven’t changed.”
“At our last meeting, I told you I’ve been repeating the entire investigation PD did sixteen months ago. Nobody in your inner or outer social circles has flagged as suspicious. I’ve sifted through all of Derek’s past and present employees, his business contacts, your employees, your business contacts, and your entire client roster for the year leading up to Sebastian’s disappearance. The camera footage from the market has been dissected by two different video forensic specialists I hired personally. Nothing new has surfaced. It’s been more than a year now, and we have no new leads.”
Marin suspects what the PI is going to say, and braces herself. Seattle PD and the FBI did a comprehensive search immediately after Sebastian went missing. Their son’s picture was all over the local news within two hours, and his Missing Child poster wentviral on Facebook and Twitter the next day. A few days after that, the case had garnered national attention, prompting accusations of classicism and elitism because the authorities appeared to be giving the Machados special treatment. But neither Marin nor Derek could apologize for that. Whynotuse every advantage they had? What was the point of having money and powerful friends if they couldn’t help in a situation like this? They were desperate to find their son. Any parent would be.
Castro is watching her closely, and Marin forces herself to focus.
“I don’t want to waste your time and money, but I feel like we’ve come to a place where I can say to you…” Castro sighs, and puts her hands in her lap. “I know it doesn’t make any sense at all, and it’s incredibly painful and unfair, but a lot of the time… these kidnappings just aren’t personal.”
Jesus Christ, Marin hates when people say that. It’s the exact same thing the police said. Dr. Chen said it, too. But it doesn’t make it easier to know that it wasn’t personal. It doesn’t helpat allto think that her four-year-old child got kidnapped only because he happened to be the kid in closest proximity to the psychopath who stole him.
She doesn’t say any of this to Castro. She keeps it together. The PI is just doing her job.
“You have about twenty-five hundred unused in your retainer,” Castro says. “I’m more than willing to keep going, but I think at this point, you might want to consider—”
“We’re not done.” The strength of Marin’s voice surprises them both. Her throat isn’t dry anymore. She sounds like herself again, decisive and commanding and a total “lady boss,” as Sadie would say. “We’re not even close to being done. I want you to keep looking.”
Their eyes lock. Castro’s face is expressionless, but Marin can picture her mind working, attempting to read her. But she doesn’t say anything, and with every passing second, the weight of what the PI said grows heavier.
“Vanessa,” Marin says, and her voice cracks on the last syllable. “Vanessa, please.”
She’s never used the private investigator’s first name before.
Castro glances at Marin’s ring again. If she isn’t married now, then she was married before. Marin senses it. She probably has kids. Marin senses that, too. Moms recognize other moms—it’s in the lines of their faces, their weariness, their protectiveness, their vulnerability. Marin’s tempted to give the PI her goddamned ring, if only she’ll stay on.
“I know you can’t promise results, and I’ve never expected you to. I just need you to promise you’ll keep doing your best.” Marin is in full boss mode now, speaking to the PI the way she might speak to one of her salon employees, someone who’s highly valued but perhaps requires a little motivation. “What about the affair? Who is this person sleeping with my husband? What is it she really wants? Derek isn’t a celebrity, but he’s in the media often enough. We both are. She has to know who we are, and what we’ve lost. I think she’s worth digging into.”
Marin leans forward. “I understand it’s not possible for you to work on this every minute of every day. I know you have other clients. But whenever you can, whenever you have a spare moment… I need to know that someone is always looking for my son. If you need more money, that’s not a problem.”
Marin’s voice starts to shake, and she’s back to being a mother again, not a boss lady, not a client. She hates that she can hear herself trembling, that she sounds like she’s losing control, that she’s begging. Which she is.
“But if you really feel that you’ve taken it as far as you can, I’ll have no choice but to find someone else and start over. Please don’t make me do that, Vanessa. Please.”
If Castro says no, that there are no more stones to turn, Marin doesn’t know if she’ll survive it. When the police said last year thatthey’d done everything they could, it was nearly as devastating as losing Sebastian in the first place.
She knows what the statistics say about missing children. She knows most of them are dead within hours of their disappearance.She knows. If Castro stops looking, Sebastian might as well be dead.
And if he’s dead, then Marin is, too.
