“You, too. I heard about Annaleise. Any word?”
She shook her head, let the umbrella rest against her side. “My son says he saw her walking in the woods. She’s like that, you know. Keeps her own company, goes for walks. I’ve seen her out there; it’s not too unusual, really. But she and I had plans yesterday . . . and her phone . . . Well.” She pressed her lips together. “It would’ve been late, after midnight. Since we share property, I wanted to check. Any chance you saw her? Or anyone? Anything?”
“No, I’m sorry. I was cleaning the house, and I fell asleep early. I didn’t notice anything.”
She nodded. “Is that Tyler Ellison’s truck, dear?”
“Oh, yes. My brother hired him to do some work on the house for us.”
“I don’t have his number, and I need to talk to him. Do you mind?” She moved forward, forcing me to back up, and stepped inside my house, placing the open umbrella on the ground.
“Sure, I’ll just go find him. Sorry about the heat. It’s the air-conditioning unit. Busted. That’s why he’s here. Tyler?” I called from the hallway. “Tyler, someone’s here to see you!”
He came down the steps, and before we could see his face, before he could see us, he said, “I think it’s the condenser fan. If you buy a replacement part, I can— Oh, hi,” he said, his steps slowing.
“I’ve been trying to reach you,” said Mrs. Carter.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been working. We’ve got a project with a crazy deadline. I’ve actually got a meeting at ten down at the county clerk’s office. I should probably be heading that way.”
“Of course. I was just wondering if you’ve heard from Annaleise?”
“I haven’t.”
She took another step into the house. “When did you last see her? What did she say?”
Tyler paused, removed his hat, ran his hand through his hair, pulled the hat back down. “We went to a movie after dinner Monday night. I dropped her off a little before ten. Had an early morning myself the next day.”
“Did she mention anything else? What she was planning?”
“No, I haven’t seen her since.”
“Did she mention going to look at grad schools?”
“No,” he said.
“Do you know what she was doing in the woods?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
Her questions came fast, but Tyler’s answers came faster. “I’m so sorry,” I said, opening the screen door for her. “Please let us know if you hear anything.”
“Okay,” she said, dragging her eyes from Tyler. “If she doesn’t turn up by tomorrow, they’re going to organize a search—” Her voice broke.
“I’ll be there,” Tyler said. “But I’m sure she’s okay.”
She picked up her umbrella, her eyes shifting between me and Tyler as she backed out of the house.
* * *
CORINNE’S MOTHER HAD COME to see me a week after she went missing, after we’d scoured the woods, the river, the caverns. “Just tell me, Nic. Tell me the things you think I don’t want to know. Tell me so we can find her.”
I remembered the feeling of wanting to tell her something, to give her something. I remembered thinking she was so young, too young to lose a full-grown daughter.
But I shook my head because I didn’t know. This was before Hannah Pardot broke Corinne open, and all I had to tell her mother was She had a meanness. A darkness. She loved me and hated me, and I felt the same. I couldn’t say that to the broken woman on my front porch, not with my father in the kitchen, not with Daniel upstairs in his room, probably listening out the window.
“Tell me this,” she’d said. “Do you think she’s okay?”
A week was too long to keep up the charade, even for Corinne. “No,” I’d said. Because that, too, was something I could give her.
A year later, when the investigation was fading to a memory for everyone else, Mrs. Prescott got divorced. She took those kids, and she left Cooley Ridge. I don’t know where they went. Somewhere there aren’t any woods to cut through or caverns to crawl inside. Or a river to cross and logs to slip from. Where a man does not push her down stairs or throw plates near her head. Where her other children will not hold dominion over a town and where, I hope, they will never be abandoned.
* * *
TYLER STOOD BESIDE ME on the porch as Annaleise’s mother drove away. “I have to go,” he said. “I have to be in a meeting about a land survey. But I’ll come back later.”
“Okay, so go.”
He stood too close, like he was going to kiss my forehead, and had to change movement at the last minute. He put an arm around my shoulder and pressed down, like Daniel might do. “Don’t look at me like that. I can’t bring you with me to work.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“No, you just looked at me like that.”
I pushed him in the arm. “Go.”
He changed his mind, pulled me to his chest anyway, and said, “Everything’s okay.” I wanted to stay like that indefinitely. Everything was not even close to okay, but that was the thing about Tyler—he made me think that it might be.
I clung to him much longer than what might be considered appropriate for a girl with a fiancé and a guy with a missing girlfriend.
“I’ll be back tonight,” he said, pulling away.
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” I said.
“Why not? Her mother just showed up and saw my truck here. There are going to be rumors anyway,” he said.
“Your missing girlfriend really isn’t something to joke about.”
“She’s not missing. She’s just not here. And I think it’s safe to say, whenever she shows up, that we’re over.”
“Oh my God, stop joking.”
He sighed. “I don’t know what else to do, Nic.”
I nodded at him, squeezed his hand. And then I watched him go.
As soon as his truck was out of sight, I went back inside and pulled open the kitchen drawers, dumping the contents on the floor, trying to piece together my father’s life over the last ten years.
* * *
THE RAIN WAS SUPPOSED to break the heat, but it didn’t. It was a hot rain, as if it had manifested out of the humidity, the air unable to hold it any longer. The only thing it did was keep us all from searching the woods.
I drove to the library after lunch, sat at one of the computers in the corner, and pulled up the Yellow Pages site, looking for pawnshop listings. I scribbled down the number and address for any within an hour’s drive, then stepped into the back courtyard of the library, which was essentially the backyard of a home encircled by a high brick wall, plants along the sides and benches in the middle. It was abandoned in the rain. I stayed pressed against the wall, under the lip of the roof overhang, the water streaming down six inches in front of my face, and dialed the first number on the list.
“First Rate Pawnshop,” a man answered.
“I’m looking for something,” I explained, keeping my voice low. “It would’ve come in sometime yesterday, probably. Or maybe today.”
“I’m going to need a little more information than that,” the man responded.
“It’s a ring,” I said. “Two-carat diamond. Brilliant setting.”
“We’ve got some engagement rings,” he said, “but nothing that’s come in recently. Have you filed a police report?”
“No, not yet.”
“Because if you don’t, if this was stolen from you and it turns up in a shop somewhere, we’re not just gonna hand it over to you. That’s the first step, honey.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said.
“Do you want to leave a number in the meantime, in case it shows?”
I paused. “No,” I said. “Thanks for your help.”
Shit. I shoved the list deep in my purse to keep it from getting wet and headed through the library back to my car. I would have to see for myself. Navigating the roads in the rain, browsing the crappy stores on the corners. Just looking, I’d say. Just passing through. The sign just caught my eye, is all.
* * *