MARY CLARK - Piece of My Heart

Jerry moved the cursor to the place on Summer’s profile where you could link to the profiles of any family members. Two family members were listed: her mother, Julie Carver, and a brother, Toby Carver. Jerry moved the cursor to Toby’s name and clicked.

“Her brother hasn’t posted anything for four years, so… dead end.” The profile picture wasn’t even of a person. It was a scenic shot of some woods near a creek. Jerry then pulled up the profile of Summer’s mother. “Mama Julie, however, is quite the active Facebook user.”

Julie’s profile photo depicted two women, smiling in close-up. One was Summer Carver, and the other wore a blue T-shirt that said 60 Is the New 40 in bold white letters. Julie was shorter and heavier than her daughter, with shorter, lighter hair, but they shared the strawberry freckles. Jerry double-clicked on the profile photo to reveal the date and caption. “This is from about three years ago. As you can see from the caption, they were celebrating Julie’s sixtieth birthday.” The caption read, “Best birthday gift possible. My beautiful daughter is back with me. So happy to have her home again!”

Grace raised her hand, but didn’t wait to be called on. “Would it be a spoiler to ask where Summer was before that?”

“If we knew, I would tell you. So, that’s mystery number one. Onward.” Jerry speed-scrolled through hundreds of typical social media posts: pausing to point out Julie’s regular mentions of her daughter, including a few pictures of the two of them together at the meal-delivery nonprofit called God’s Love We Deliver.

“I brought an extra sous-chef with me for my regular Tuesday shift in the kitchen,” Julie had captioned one of the photos. “Click here to donate to an important cause!”

Jerry continued scrolling before stopping suddenly on a post from four months earlier. “Now this is where things get interesting.”

Instead of a personal photograph, the post was of white cursive text against a dark blue background. Mothers Don’t Sleep , it read. They Just Worry with Their Eyes Closed. It was posted with the caption, “SO TRUE!”

Laurie noticed Ryan drop his pen to the table, taking a break from the notes he was scribbling intensely, as if he had been assuming that nothing promising could come from a so-called mommy-meme. He was wrong. The key was to read the replies from Julie’s friends.

Katie Lundt: Julie, I want to think you’re kidding, but this doesn’t sound good?

Beth Trainor: LOL, honey, but I agree with Katie. You’re worrying us. Is Summer okay?

Julie then replied: She has made some choices that are… well, I don’t understand them.

Katie Lundt: But is everything OK?!

Julie: I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer, so now she left the house to stay with Toby (half brother). Long story, but, honestly, I’m concerned. Pray for me and my daughter, please. I can guide her but I can no longer control her. Why do they have to grow up so fast?

Laurie would never understand people who engaged in intimate conversations on the internet. If she had to guess, Julie Carver never imagined that a total stranger would end up scouring her social media for a glimpse into the most private details of her family.

Ryan’s pen was back in hand, furiously at work on his legal pad. “It sounds like there was a falling-out,” he said. “And the timing is right. Starting around six months ago, Summer ramped up her prison visits to Gunther to twice a week. Her mother may not have been happy about her daughter’s newest friend.”

“That’s exactly what we think,” Jerry said. “Since this post four months ago, there’s no indication that Julie has seen her daughter even once. In fact, there’s no direct mention of Summer at all. On Mother’s Day, a few people posted notes to Julie that they were thinking of her and wishing her better days with her children, so it would appear that they’re still on the outs. And Summer’s profile says she has a brother named Toby. It seems he’s a half brother, and not Julie’s son.”

Ryan squeezed the bridge of his nose. “It’s still really thin. All we really know is that Summer supports Gunther and has had some falling-out with her mom. A big leap from that to kidnapping. Do we have any reason to believe Summer’s capable of that?”

Jerry clicked off the overhead projection as Laurie explained that she had called Jennifer Langland, the Long Island detective in charge of Johnny’s case, the previous night.

Grace shook her head, not trying to veil her displeasure. Her long red fingernails gleamed as she raised an adamant hand. “I’m sorry, I know I’ve never met the woman, but from everything I’ve heard, she is convinced we’re on a wild-goose chase with Gunther. Just have your father do his thing. The NYPD can run Summer through every database known to man. Done!”

Grace wasn’t wrong. Langland was clearly skeptical of Gunther’s involvement in Johnny’s abduction, but she was also the investigator in charge. She was Laurie’s first stop unless it became clear they needed a Plan B.

“I think I caught Langland at a good time,” Laurie said. “Apparently they spent nearly two days trailing a guy who had been seen watching children on the beach the day Johnny was abducted. They finally pulled him over for failing to signal. They thought they might actually have him when they found a receipt in the car from that day, from one of the food trucks that works the beaches. But then they tracked down the food truck and learned it was in Southhampton when Johnny disappeared. Anyway, whether she thinks we’re on the right track, or was just embarrassed about hitting a dead end, she promised me she’d run Summer and get back to me.”

“Her brother, too?” Grace asked.

“All known associates.”

“It’s a start,” Grace said begrudgingly, “but I have a feeling that Mama Carver could tell us a whole lot about what Summer’s been up to. It’s just a few Facebook posts, but I know the sound of a mother who thinks her kid is up to no good. I mean, not that I was ever that kid,” she added.

“Of course not,” Laurie said. “Funny you should say that, Grace, because if I wanted to find Mrs. Carver today for a preliminary background interview, where would we look?”

Grace’s heart-shaped face broke out into a broad smile as she realized she knew the answer. “Tuesday afternoon. Her regular volunteer shift in the kitchen. Can I come? Please? Moms who Facebook love me!”

Laurie had been looking for ways to give Grace more responsibility, and she did have a natural talent for bringing out a person’s chatty side. “Sounds good.”

Laurie took a quick look at today’s outfit: an ocean-blue, above-the-knee sheath dress that was practically a nun’s habit compared to Grace’s normal attire, paired with glossy five-inch, nude-colored stiletto heels. “Don’t worry. I keep flats in my desk drawer for when I need to look less…”

“Spectacular?” Laurie said.

“Exactly.”

Chapter 38

Grace looked up at the gleaming six-story building on the SoHo corner of Spring Street and Sixth Avenue. From the sidewalk, she and Laurie could see the action unfolding inside a state-of-the-art commercial kitchen. Chefs in white aprons and black caps chopped carrots and onions, peeled potatoes, and rolled meatballs.

“ This is the soup kitchen?” Grace marveled. She glanced at the plain black ballet flats she had slipped on for their trip downtown. “My Louboutins would have fit right in here, though mine are knockoffs, to be clear.”

Laurie shot off a quick text, We just arrived , and then held open the front door for Grace. “Not what you expected, huh? They built new headquarters a few years ago to expand operations. And it’s not a soup kitchen. They deliver close to two million at-home meals a year to clients who are too sick to shop or cook for themselves.”