Unexpectedly, Milo - Matthew Dicks [73]
Maybe the sick fuck that Freckles suspected in her friend’s disappearance had been Tess Bryson’s own father.
Most important, maybe Tess Bryson remained missing on purpose, in order to hide from an abusive father.
Maybe she was still alive.
Finished with his final client of the day, a widow named Grace Bedford who obsessed over a backyard herb garden and wore a necklace made from her daughter’s baby teeth, Milo had headed to Berlin to take a peek at Freckles’s home, hoping to confirm that the Cassidy Glenn of 19 Cynthia Drive was the same girl who had appeared on the tapes. He had no doubt, but confirming this information, as well as the opportunity to see her in person, was too much to resist. Sitting outside her home, feeling like the stalker that Hairy Knuckles had all but accused him of being the night before, Milo watched as Freckles arrived home shortly after five. Though he was across the street, parked two houses down from Freckles’s home, there was no doubt in Milo’s mind that he had found his girl. Stepping out of her Ford pickup, she had the same look, the same gait, and the same glow of the woman in the video. He watched her enter the house and disappear behind curtains, and for a moment, he thought he might walk right up to the house, ring the doorbell, and introduce himself as the man who had found her video camera and tapes. Get it over right now and head home with a clean conscience.
A blend of curiosity and fear stopped him.
Though he managed to find the name, address, and phone number of the woman whom he had sought, Milo still had questions. Had she gone back to training horses yet? Was she still blaming herself for Meera’s death? What was her middle name, and did she even have one? Most pressing, what was the meaning behind her reference to a morning fight?
But more than curious, Milo was afraid. Planning his first conversation with Christine years ago had been difficult enough, but this exchange would be infinitely more challenging.
Christine had been expecting his call. She had even been looking forward to it.
Freckles was not.
Christine had known something about Milo prior to the call. She’d had some familiarity with her future husband.
Freckles didn’t know that Milo existed.
Christine had possessed no reason to hate Milo, though she had apparently found ample opportunity in the past year.
There were already plenty of reasons for Freckles to hate Milo, even though the two had never met.
The camera.
The tapes.
The removal of the nylon bag and its contents from the park that night.
Milo’s decision to watch the tapes, even after it was clear that the footage contained a private confessional of sorts.
The fact that Milo knew about Freckles and her deepest, darkest secrets made the impending conversation between them almost impossible to imagine. Her possible range of emotions was limitless.
Appreciation
Embarrassment
Shame
Disbelief
Shock
Anger
Rage
He wondered if she might be happier if he never returned the camera to her, but then he thought about how it might feel to know that the record of one’s most private thoughts were somewhere in the world, ready to be posted online at any time. Milo reasoned that knowing that one person had viewed the tapes was better than worrying that the world might someday have access to the recordings. Even though he would not be able to explain his ability to identify and locate her without admitting to watching the tapes, Milo could at least assure Freckles that he had been the only one to see them and that no copies had been made.
But that was a conversation that would require some planning.
What Milo did decide in that moment outside her home was not to watch the rest of the tapes. When he finally returned them to Freckles, he wanted to be able to assure her that he watched the recordings only until she mentioned her full name. Though this unfortunately occurred during the telling of her darkest secret, he could at least