It's the paper itself I'm interested in. I lie down with graceful care, and for a moment I think he'll shoo me away. Instead, he picks up his cell phone and makes a call.
The paper smells musty. It's not crisp and white, but faintly yellowed at the edges, and brittle. I've seen Tammy Lynn handle such paper. Letters from old files she's researching. Notes stuck in books. The writing on it isn't from a computer, either. The letters look to be typed on an old machine, not printed.
Are we looking for someone old? Who would have such a machine? I'm thinking of the typewriter off in a corner at the Wetumpka public library. Surely the New Belford library would have a typewriter. But I can't imagine someone being so foolish as to type a ransom note in a library, because libraries often have cameras. It could have been done anywhere—perhaps in someone's attic, on paper they found there. But I worry that Erin won't follow up on it. It's certain that Bruce won't.
Still, I think we can eliminate Bruce from the list of suspects. His only motive could be to terrorize or frighten Shelby Rae, and he seems to genuinely care for her. Humans are such strange, complicated creatures. I love them, but also pity them.
Seeing how miserable Bruce is makes me wonder how the victim herself is doing, and after a few more restful moments on the spacious desk, I stretch and make my way silently up the stairs.
* * *
Jocko is stretched out on the master and mistress's bed, the lazy sod. As though he has done anything useful at all today. But Shelby Rae isn't with him. I wander by the en suite, but no one is inside. Hmmmm.
I hear a voice from an unusual place—Shelby Rae's enormous closet.
Before coming to New Belford, I'd only seen such a closet wonderland on television. Two separate aisles of dark polished shelves and drawers and racks of hanging clothes. Marble countertops with mannequin heads wearing hats of all sorts. Small, built-in cabinets hung with necklaces, and little drawers for earrings and rings and bracelets. Tammy Lynn would laugh at the extravagance. One would expect such a room—for a room it is—would be brilliantly organized, given that everything has its dedicated spaces. But, no. It looks like the Last Chance Sale at Victoria's Secret after a busload of tourists has swarmed through. Lingerie and skimpy clothing flopped onto the floor, dangling from hangers, and escaping from half-closed drawers. Even the countertops are littered with costume jewelry.
You can tell a lot about a person if you peek into their personal closet. But the mess was fortuitous because it let me get close to Shelby Rae, who stood at the room's single window wearing one of the simpler nightdresses in the room, without her noticing me.
Not only was she out of her bed, but she was talking on a small black flip phone of the type I'd seen older folks and the occasional teenager use. I believe it's called a burner phone.
I can only hear one side of the conversation:
"But I hurt all over."
"He's downstairs. He's doing absolutely everything for me."
Laughter.
"I better go. I'll call you."
More laughter.
I slip into one of the sweater cubbies before Shelby Rae turns around, and watch as she stands on tiptoe to put the phone on a high shelf. When it's hidden she starts out of the closet, but stops to look in the mirror and mess up her hair a bit more.
I wait a few moments to let her get settled in the bedroom before I leave the closet. When I finally emerge, I hear someone tap on the bedroom door and see Bruce peek in. He sees what I see—Shelby Rae reclining on her pillow, eyes closed.
One of us knows she isn't actually asleep.
* * *
After Erin’s father took Shelby Rae upstairs to tend to her and put her to bed, Erin texted MacKenzie to see if she wanted to meet in town for lunch. The house suddenly seemed too small for the three of them. Of course, the idea that it was actually too small was absurd. But Shelby Rae and her father had been reunited in their own little world—a world from which Erin was excluded.
Exhausted, she showered and put on a pair of denim shorts and a sleeveless peasant blouse she'd bought at the international shop near campus. The blouse was embroidered with bright blue and yellow flowers twined with green stems, and she left the ends of the delicate red ribbon at the neck untied. The flowers cheered her up. It had been a strange, awkward time at the house, and while she was truly glad Shelby Rae was back safely, her return hadn't lightened Erin's mood. If anything, she felt more unsettled. It creeped her out that there really were people evil enough to kidnap her stepmother for money, and that the man she’d seen pick up the fifty thousand dollars was still out there. It wasn't that she was afraid. She was strong and watchful and could put up a much better fight than Shelby Rae had. But that person—or people, according to Shelby Rae—was not only in the New Belford area, but had been inside the house to leave the note.
Erin stroked Trouble, who had reclaimed his spot on her bed and was stretched out, eyes half-closed with contentment. "Keep watch," she said. "Don't let any crazy people in. Jocko's worthless as a guard dog." The cat lifted his head and squinched his cool green eyes at her. She had absolutely no doubt they understood each other.
* * *
There were only a dozen restaurants in New Belford that weren't fast food places, and Erin arrived at Gerald's on the Square at two minutes before noon. Gerald was long dead, and the owner of the revamped pub had kept the name, the worn handmade tables, and the mahogany bar, but had brought the menu into the 21st century. MacKenzie would be five to ten minutes late, as usual. Most people considered five or ten minutes late to be on time, but Erin had a dread of arriving somewhere even a minute late. It was something MacKenzie teased her about. Before Tionna's death, they would have met at Two Hearts Bakery for lunch. The bakery always had a fun herbal iced tea on the menu, and the chicken salad contained fresh French tarragon that Bryn grew in the little garden out back. The chicken salad came on homemade croissants and was served with fruit salad and two light-as-air pastel macarons for dessert.
Even if Bryn reopened Two Hearts, Erin knew she would hardly be welcome.
She ordered sweet iced tea for herself and lemonade for MacKenzie. How badly would she have preferred to order a cold beer, even if it was only lunchtime? At home, her father didn't mind if she had a beer or a glass of wine, as long as she wasn't driving. And there were plenty of bars around the UK campus that didn’t look at IDs too closely.
At last MacKenzie arrived looking fresh and cool in a short, pink linen dress and open-toed, heeled booties that made her slender legs look even longer. Her brown hair was caught in two low pigtails. Erin greeted her with a hug, thinking that only MacKenzie could wear schoolgirl pigtails and look perfectly gorgeous. They sat back down and within ten minutes, Erin had caught her up to date with all of the recent drama.
"You mean your father’s not calling the sheriff? Doesn't the FBI have to investigate kidnappings?" MacKenzie swiped a carrot slice through the dish of hummus between them and took a bite.
"Keep your voice down, Mac. If they find out about it they have to investigate." Erin leaned forward. "Whoever did it is still out there, and they could do it again. That's why I told my dad we should tell Sheriff Bowen, but he won't listen to me. Shelby Rae is completely freaked out."
"Did they, you know, do anything sexual to her?"
Erin leaned back, surprised. She hadn't thought to ask, and Shelby Rae hadn't volunteered any details.
"Seriously, Erin. She should at least see a doctor, don't you think?"
"God, I don't want to go there." Erin sighed. "Dad is with her. She would tell him, right?" Her appetite, which had been voracious when they ordered, evaporated. She never could have predicted what having someone close to her being kidnapped would truly be like. If it had been her father who had been kidnapped, she would've called the sheriff, the FBI, and the local SWAT team, then grabbed the Mossberg to search every square inch of McClaren County. Somehow she hadn't felt so angry about Shelby Rae, and that bothered her. What if Shelby R
ae had actually been raped or injured in some way that wasn't obvious? No wonder her father had wanted to get her back as soon as possible.
They ate in thoughtful silence for a while.
"Mac, I need to know who did this."
MacKenzie nodded. "Who else knows about it?"
Erin counted off on her fingers. "Me, my dad, and Shelby Rae, of course. Julie Berry. She showed up yesterday morning.”
"Ugh."
"You know how she's never liked Shelby Rae." Erin put her napkin by her plate. "But I can't imagine Julie being a kidnapper. Shelby Rae said there were two people, and one might have been a woman. Julie's bitchy but I can’t see her being violent."
MacKenzie shook her head. "My mom told me it was harsh the way Mr. Berry left her for a waitress like that. Said she didn't leave her house for almost two months. When she came out again, she'd lost thirty pounds. I think we were only like five years old or something when it happened."
"So it's like the chicken and the egg thing. Was she crazy and kind of bitchy to start with, and that's why he left her? Or did his leaving her make her that way? She used to be so nice to me." Erin genuinely felt bad about thinking ill of Julie.
"Anybody else?"
Do I tell her about Noah? Erin was torn. It wasn't as if she seriously suspected him. She realized she hadn't texted him back about meeting for coffee. He probably thought she was blowing him off. The corners of her mouth dropped into a frown.
"Okay. Spill." MacKenzie crossed her arms, and gave Erin her most severe schoolteacher look. "Now."
“It’s Noah Daly." Erin paused, watching the smile spread over MacKenzie's face. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You're blushing. You always blush when you like a guy."
"Come on. You don't know what you're talking about." Erin could feel the heat burning at her ears, and on her cheeks.
"He followed you around like a puppy dog on Sunday. I'd say the feeling is mutual."
"I was getting his mom some glasses, you idiot."
"Right."
"Then everyone got all excited about Bryn Owens being parked out front, and Chief Deputy Wilkins running her off." Erin remembered she hadn't told Mackenzie about seeing Noah talking to Bryn. She was about to say something when MacKenzie put up one hand.
"You haven't been on a date in six months, and he broke up with his girlfriend right after Christmas. I know because she does nails at the salon, and she's really cute and shy, but he stopped going to her charismatic church with her, so they broke up." She reached across the table and touched Erin's arm with her cool fingertips. "I know it's complicated, because of who his dad is. But he really is a good guy. Plus, your dad gave him a job. Your dad's not dumb, right?"
"I'm not looking for some stupid summer romance," Erin said. "I don't think I even want to stay here the rest of the summer. After I find out who's messing with my family…” The word "family" caught in her throat. When had she started thinking about Shelby Rae as her family? “I'm going back to Lexington. Get a part-time job and volunteer at the rescue shelter there until school starts." She didn't add that she was feeling awkward in her own house.
"When's the last time you actually had sex?" MacKenzie’s voice carried to the next table, where a homely man in his fifties sat reading a book over lunch. He choked on his beer and had a coughing fit.
Erin covered her eyes and bowed her head in an I can't believe this is happening gesture. MacKenzie gave the man her sunniest smile before turning back to Erin.
"No one says you have to fall in love with the guy. You might as well have some fun. He's probably at least clean anyway. It's not like he dates skanky girls."
"You are unbelievable, Mac." Still, a part of her wanted to laugh. MacKenzie talked a good game, but she was very particular about whom she went out with. When her parents had let her start dating when she was fifteen, she had been the one to do everything first, and on her schedule. Her latest experiment was a Nashville DJ named Stryker whose parents had a country estate nearby that he visited with select friends. "He's kind of a snob," MacKenzie had told her. "I'm embarrassed for you to meet him. Maybe next time he comes up. Maybe."
"It's better than hanging around the house all the time with the wicked stepmother, right?" MacKenzie put a hand over her mouth. "Oops. Too soon?"
Erin waved it off. "No worries. I'm sure she'll be back to her bitchy self in no time." She woke her phone to check the time. "I guess Noah did ask me if I wanted to have coffee today."
"What did you tell him?"
"I haven't said anything, yet." Erin was defensive. "I couldn't make up my mind."
MacKenzie waited to answer until the server finished refilling her lemonade. "He lives with his parents, I think. You know his mom manages that huge gas and convenience store out near the interstate. I wonder if he'll move out now that creepy dad of his is out of jail. Noah really seems like too sweet a guy to have Jeb Daly for a father."
Erin is stunned. "What do you mean? Jeb Daly is out of jail? No one said anything. They're supposed to tell people. Victims' families."
"But it was Zach Wilkins who shot your mom."
"But it was Jeb Daly's fault. That's part of the reason he went to jail. Not just because of the robbery! When did he get out?"
"I thought you knew," MacKenzie said. "Now I feel like a moron. I think he got out last Friday."
"So he was out over the weekend, and Noah didn't bother to mention it to me?" That bothered her. A lot. He hadn't lied to her, but he hadn't told her the whole truth, either. For nearly seven years his father had been away, out of sight and (mostly) out of Erin's mind. She glanced around the pub. Jeb Daly himself could walk in any minute. The thought chilled her. Someday she would have to see him again. It had been one thing to think about going out with Noah, but knowing he slept in the same house as the criminal who was responsible for her mother's death? That was too much.
"I bet he didn't want to upset you. He couldn't exactly say, By the way, my dad just got out of prison, and I know you hate him, but let's mess around anyway. Don't be harsh, Erin."
"Why are you defending him?"
MacKenzie held up both hands. "Whoa. I care about you. See him, or don't see him. It doesn't matter to me. But it's been over seven years since your mom died. You've been doing great. Now you're freaked out all over again."
Erin whispered through a tight grimace. "Shelby Rae was kidnapped. On Sunday, I saw Noah talking to Bryn Owens where she was parked out front. What if he was helping her? What if it was Noah, his dad, and Bryn? Noah's job could've been to distract me. He could have easily slipped into the house and left the note." She slapped a hand on the scarred surface of the table, making the silverware rattle. "I feel like an idiot."
"Oh, come on. Noah?" MacKenzie's words were incredulous, but the look on her face was far less skeptical.
* * *
Erin couldn’t shake her disappointment. Her car was parked in the post office's public lot, and as she walked there, she couldn't stop thinking back to sitting with Noah on the dock. She hadn't felt so comfortable with a guy in a long time, but now she knew it was possible she'd been completely wrong about him. What was the saying? Like father like son. In the far distance she could see the enormous American flag flying over her father's dealership. Noah was probably there, working. If she wanted to, she could just walk in and ask Earl, the service manager she'd known since she was eight years old, to have Noah come out and talk to her.
Did you and your dad kidnap Shelby Rae? Were you supposed to keep me out of the way? Is that why you hung out with me?
She tried to imagine his face when she confronted him. Surely he wouldn't have the nerve to lie to her face. But he probably had, already. They hadn't talked about his father, at all. Or her mother. Obviously those weren't safe subjects.
Still, she wasn't one hundred percent sure he'd done anything wrong. She prided herself on being able to spot the kind of guys who lied and cheated and to stay away from them. Despite
his not mentioning his father being out of prison, nothing about Noah had raised any red flags. In fact, quite the opposite.
She was halfway up the steps to the post office parking lot when she saw Julie Berry's small gray Mercedes pulling out of the exit. Julie sat bolt upright, her slender fingers with their neatly trimmed, clear-coated nails wrapped securely around the wheel in the ten and two position. Erin tried to wave her down, but Julie, who was wearing a pair of once-fashionable, enormous Jackie O sunglasses, didn't notice her. How odd it was to Erin that Julie would drive a Mercedes instead of a car from her father's dealership, especially given that she had such a crush on her father. Did forty-five year-old women even get crushes?
Erin jogged a few steps, waving her arms, knowing she looked like a perfect idiot, but couldn't get Julie's attention. If there was one thing Julie was, it was a gossip. She loved being everyone's source for the latest. It had occurred to Erin that she just might know something relevant about Shelby Rae, or even Bryn Owens. Only the day before she'd been the first one to show up after Shelby Rae had disappeared. Could it really have been such a coincidence? She'd been defensive and a little strange. As much as Erin cared for her, and Erin really did care, she could believe that Julie actually had known already that Shelby Rae had been kidnapped.
When Erin got to her car, she pulled up Julie Berry's cell phone number and dialed. It rang five times and switched to voicemail. She left a message saying Shelby Rae had returned, but she needed to find out if Julie had noticed anything out of the ordinary at the party. "Anything at all," Erin said. "Maybe you heard someone talking about Shelby Rae or someone was looking for her, or acting strange?" She also apologized for not being able to give her more details about Shelby Rae's absence from the house. "I'll explain later when dad and I have a better idea of what's going on. Promise." It wasn't entirely the truth. Erin and her father already knew what had gone on, but not the when or why. But if she knew anything about Julie, it was that she couldn't resist you if you flattered her or offered good gossip.
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