A handwritten note in his mother’s precise script. Saw JH talking to RW outside the drugstore the day before she disappeared. RW was insistent. She looked uncomfortable. Told Sheriff Dawson. He said, “I must be mistaken.” Toby read the note three times. His mother had witnessed something. She’d reported it, and she’d been dismissed. He dug deeper into the bag and found more notes. Observations his mother had made. Things she’d seen or heard. Each one ended the same way. Told authorities not taken seriously.
Case closed. Anyway, his hands shook as he opened another bag. Then another. The pattern held. His mother hadn’t just been collecting newspaper articles. She’d been conducting her own investigation, documenting what she saw, trying to piece together what the official investigations had missed or ignored, and no one had listened to her. By the time Emma called up asking for breakfast, Toby had gone through two dozen bags. He’d found 12 separate missing person’s cases, all from Cooper’s Bend or the surrounding county.
12 young people who’d vanished between 1965 and 1995. 12 investigations that had gone nowhere, and his mother had tracked every single one. He climbed down from the attic with his mind spinning. Emma sat at the kitchen table drawing in a notebook she’d found in his mother’s things. What’s up there?” she asked without looking up from her drawing. Just old papers, Toby said. Stuff your grandma saved. Why did she save so much stuff? Good question. The best question.
I’m trying to figure that out. After breakfast, Toby told Emma he needed to run into town. He left her with her notebook and strict instructions not to answer the door for anyone, then drove to the Cooper’s Bend Public Library. The library was a small brick building that smelled like old books and furniture polish. The same librarian who’d worked there when Toby was in high school still sat at the front desk. “Mrs. Haskell,” her name plate read. She looked up when he entered, and something flickered across her face.
recognition maybe or something else. Can I help you? She asked. I’m looking for old newspapers, Toby said. The gazette going back to the 60s if you have them. We have them on Microfich. What year specifically? All of them. I want to look at local news from 1965 to 2000. Mrs. Haskell’s expression shifted. Her pleasant librarian smile faded. That’s quite a range. What exactly are you researching? Family history. Toby lied. My mother lived here her whole life. I’m trying to learn more about what the town was like when she was young.
