Since She Went Away(82)

“I know where you’re going.”

“Where?”

“You’re going to ask Ian what the hell’s wrong with his daughter.”

She nodded. “Doors locked. You hear?”

“I hear.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

? ? ?

Once she was gone, Jared pulled out his phone. He sent a text to Mike, asking what he was doing.

Nada, he replied.

Are the country clubbers partying tonight?

Probably.

Can u find out where?

Will check my sources.

Jared changed his clothes and pulled on sneakers. He checked his hair in the mirror once, tousled it around with his hands, and decided he looked relatively cool. Certainly not rich, but also not someone who would hang out on the bottom rung of the social ladder. He was somewhere in the middle, which wasn’t a bad place to be most of the time. It might not be enough to get into a rich kids’ party, but he intended to try.

His phone chimed.

You know that * Kirk Embry? His house.

We have 2 go.

Can’t. Grounded. Mom caught me w cigs. Take big Syd.

Need you. Get out.

There was a long pause. Jared thought Mike had ended the conversation. Or had his phone snatched away by his mother.

But then one more text came through.

K. Meet u behind school in 15.

He knew the cops might be out there, checking on the house. But they couldn’t watch every door all the time. Not because of a phone call that might be a prank.

Jared grabbed his coat and slipped out the back.





CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT


It felt surreal for Jenna to be back in that house again.

Ian opened the door for her, and as she stepped into the foyer, the light above providing a soft glow, every surface below dusted and polished to perfection, she tried to remember that last time she’d been there. Two days after Celia disappeared. A flurry of activity that day. Cops and volunteers and media. People in the kitchen making signs and brewing coffee, hangers-on milling and gawking at the edge of the property line.

Ian closed the door, but before he did, he stuck his head out, looking first one way and then the other. She didn’t know if he was checking for nosy neighbors or media, and she didn’t ask.

He led her out to the kitchen. Jenna expected Celia to appear at any time. Up until a few years ago, it was always that way. Jenna would arrive at the house—late as usual—and she’d walk out to the kitchen, where she’d find Celia languidly enjoying a glass of wine or a gin and tonic. Maybe she’d be sitting with a much younger Ursula working on homework, or maybe she’d have a magazine or her cell phone in front of her, and when Jenna would walk in she’d look up, her face breaking into a smile.

“At long last,” she always said.

Jenna shivered at the memory, felt the icy hand of regret and grief grabbing her around the back of the neck.

Ian walked over to the refrigerator. “Wine?” he asked. “Or a beer?”

“Nothing. Is Ursula home?”

“She’s out. I told you. It’s Friday night. What teenager wants to be home? We never were.”

He was right. They played and partied hard, and they didn’t have computers and video games and streaming movies to keep them occupied. If they wanted something they had to go out and get it. Good or ill.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Ian asked. He pulled out two beer bottles. “I get the feeling this is going to be an unfriendly conversation. Maybe beer would help?”

Jenna nodded. She still felt cold and so kept her coat on. She slipped into a seat at the kitchen table, remembering the hundreds of nights she and Celia had sat there, talking and eating and drinking and talking some more. She never thought about any one of them being the last, even as their lives slowly changed the more Celia became involved with her country club life. She knew someday one of them would die, knew there’d be an end of some kind, but pushed it away, further and further out into the future. She wished they’d been closer in those final few years, wished she’d taken an emotional snapshot of every moment.

Ian placed the beers on the table, the caps off. He slid one over to Jenna, the bottom of the bottle leaving a condensation trail on the tabletop.

“So? You said something about the TV tonight and Ursula. You know, I told you not to trust Reena. She’s a snake.”

“Yeah. But that’s not really my problem right now. Why did Ursula go to her and tell her—” She stopped. “Shit, you don’t even know. Nobody knows.”

“Know what?”

She told him why she’d been late the night Celia disappeared. The discussion with Jared that kept her from getting out the door on time. Ian listened, his lips slightly parted.

“So you lied to the cops back then?” he asked.

“I didn’t tell them the whole truth. I think there’s a difference.”

He leaned back, sighing a little. “I understand if you didn’t want to involve Jared in all this,” he said. “I told you that before. I’d defend anyone who wanted to do that.”

“Listen to me. Nobody knew Jared made me late. Just Jared and me. And he told Ursula and a couple of her friends the other night. Now Reena Huffman knows about it, and she broadcast that news on TV tonight. The whole friggin’ world knows now. So either Ursula or one of her friends told Reena.”