“Rough week, not just long day?” Maggie asked, concern furrowing her brow.
“It’s had its moments,” David said. He nudged off his shoes and set them aside, seemed to make up his mind as he turned back to Maggie. “My missing PI is mostly resolved, although we may never be able to get justice. Evie is making good progress, but it’s probably tied to other crimes the guy might have committed. We’re both in need of an evening without work.”
Maggie held his face between her hands and kissed him. “Okay. Nice attempt at not telling me the full story, David. But work doesn’t normally bother you this much, even sad cases like this one.”
“We’ll talk about it later.”
“We will.” Maggie waved them toward the comfortable seating arranged around the room, and Evie made a quick decision as they sat down.
“Maggie,” she said, “my missing girl was at a Triple M concert the night she disappeared. David is trying to avoid telling you that. I’d like to request to look at your albums—any photos you might have from a concert on October 17, 2007.”
“The night of the car accident,” Maggie realized.
“Yes. David pretty much had to tell me the history of you two once we realized the overlap. I don’t mean to be the one stirring up old pain, yet I could use anything you might have from that night. My girl might be in the photos, and I might be able to identify friends of hers I haven’t spoken to yet.”
Maggie nodded. “You’ll have it—or rather, you will when it arrives on Saturday. There’s a box marked CONCERT ALBUMS. You’ll need to sort through it to figure out which one has that October date. Some cover multiple years.”
“I appreciate that, Maggie. I’ll be careful with them,” Evie reassured. Maggie had just solved another problem without having to be asked, granting access to a range of concerts albums. They might find useful pictures from other Triple M concerts. “I know David was trying to avoid dragging you into our work, plus stirring up that particular set of memories.”
“It was a night that changed our lives,” she said, reaching over to slide her hand into David’s, “and one I now realize also changed someone else’s life. What was her name, your missing girl?”
“Jenna Greenhill. Twenty-one, a college student, and she loved your music. She left her apartment sometime after returning from the concert, about eleven-thirty that Friday night—probably about the time you were arriving at the hospital and David was going into surgery,” Evie suggested, deliberately misstating the time estimates. David said he hadn’t been freed from the wreckage for an hour after the crash, and the ER evaluation would have added more time to that.
“It was a very long night. David went into surgery just after two a.m. The surgeon came out to see me about six o’clock, said the surgery had gone well and I could see him,” Maggie said quietly.
“And that expression is why I was trying to avoid dragging this question into our evening,” David put in. “You can’t fully enjoy your return to Chicago,” he said with a little smile, “when we’ve been recalling car crashes. So let’s shift to more interesting subjects like dinner, or how the music is coming for the album, or Evie’s boyfriend.”
“Hey,” Evie protested good-naturedly. Yet she wouldn’t mind talking about Rob if it would help David turn Maggie’s attention away from the subject she had introduced.
“She’s sitting on a marriage proposal, Maggie, and hasn’t figured out if she wants to say yes or no,” David commented, sealing her fate.
Maggie, her attention caught, turned to Evie. “That must be a story in itself, not unlike ours,” she remarked with a smile. “So what do you want to do, Evie, tell David to button up or tell me the rest of the story?”
There was more than just kindness and good humor in the question; there was sympathy and a great deal of empathy giving life to the invitation.
“I don’t mind sharing the story, as it never hurts to get a woman’s opinion on such matters. His name is Rob Turney,” she said, her tone turning playful, “and your David looks like a great catch only because you haven’t met Rob and realized you settled on your guy too early.”
Maggie laughed. “David, you’ll have to fuss over dinner without help. We’re going to go unpack while we talk.” She turned to Evie. “Come on up. I’ll probably ask for advice on where to put things—an occupational hazard. I like to hear alternate opinions.”
Evie followed her. “I like helping people move in. It’s the one time the house is still a place of possibilities.”