Mom and I had always been close, even though she wasn’t exactly the warm-and-fuzzy type.
She was organized almost to a fault.
Appointments were scheduled weeks ahead.
Receipts were stored in labeled folders.
She called me every Sunday evening at exactly eight.
Even the kitchen towels had designated places.
That was why her disappearance made absolutely no sense.
She vanished without packing anything.
Her purse was still at home.
So was her phone.
Her medication.
Most of her clothes.
There was no note.
No message.
No explanation.
Anyone who knew my mother agreed on one thing:
Evelyn Mercer would never simply walk away without telling somebody.
I went home immediately.
I spoke to the police repeatedly.
They asked questions, filed reports, and told us they were looking into it.
But there was no obvious evidence of a crime.
