Chapter 5 - The Search Begins
By Wednesday, Daniel’s corporate coldness had curdled into unadulterated panic.
He hired Marcus Thorne—a former FBI operative turned elite private investigator known for locating missing persons and corporate defectors within forty-eight hours.
Marcus sat across from Daniel in the darkened corner of a private Manhattan steakhouse, flipping through a thin manila folder containing the sum total of what little my disappearance had yielded.
“Mr. Harrison, I’ll be honest with you,” Marcus said, adjusting his glasses. “Your wife didn't just leave town. She vanished off the grid. She withdrew twenty-four thousand dollars from her personal checking account on Friday afternoon, closed her utility accounts, and hasn't used a single credit card in her name since.”
Daniel stared into his scotch glass, the ice melting into a watery puddle. “She has to be staying with someone. A friend. A family member.”
“We checked her college roommate list, her cousins in Boston, and her former coworkers from her graphic design days,” Marcus replied steadily. “Nobody has heard from her. Her phone has been permanently deactivated. She didn't buy a plane ticket using her social security number.”
“She flew somewhere,” Daniel insisted, his voice rising with suppressed desperation. “People don't just evaporate in New York City.”
“They do if they plan it carefully,” Marcus noted, closing the folder. “Tell me, Mr. Harrison… was there trouble in the marriage? Any domestic issues you might have overlooked?”
Daniel flinched as if struck.
He thought about the text messages from Vanessa Cole glowing on his tablet screen. He thought about the countless weekends he had spent in Dallas and London while I sat alone in our sprawling, silent apartment. He thought about the way I used to look at him during our early years—with a warmth and devotion he had lazily taken for granted, assuming it was an infinite resource that would never run dry.
“I was busy building a company,” Daniel muttered defensively.
“Well,” Marcus said dryly, standing up from the booth. “It looks like you finally succeeded in clearing your schedule. I’ll keep looking, Mr. Harrison. But unless she makes a financial footprint, finding a ghost in a country of three hundred million people takes time.”
As Marcus walked away into the dim restaurant lighting, Daniel stared down at his empty glass, a terrifying realization dawning on him.
May you like
He had spent his entire adult life believing that if he provided the house, the bank account, and the status, everything else would take care of itself. He had treated his wife like a permanent fixture of his home decor—something to be polished, ignored, and expected to stay put.
Now, the house was empty. And the silence was deafening.
