by David Bell
“We don’t have to talk about it at all,” Sally said. “You know what you’re doing.”
“I don’t, Sally, not really, but—”
“It’s your life, Jenna. Whatever.” Her friend hung up.
• • •
Jenna stepped into the hallway and tried to stop thinking of Sally. “Okay, what is it? You’re pacing like a caged tiger.”
“You have to hear this.”
She followed Jared out to the living room, where the combination cordless phone and answering machine, a relic from when Jenna and Marty were first married, sat on a small table. The message light was blinking, and Jenna’s heart jumped.
“What gives, Jared?” she asked, running through every scenario in her mind. Had Celia called? Natalie?
Jared reached out and pressed PLAY.
The voice sounded pleasant, a little high-pitched but still a man’s.
“Jenna, I’m so glad I reached out this way. I’m coming to town and I want to talk to you about Celia some more. I think you’ll be interested to hear what I have to say.” Pause. “Oh, I didn’t say who I was. This is Domino fifty-five.”
Jenna stared at the phone and its blinking red light as though it were a poisonous snake. The light mesmerized her, held her in place unable to move or speak.
“Is that the guy from the Web site?”
She found her voice again. “Yeah. He’s the one who wrote the other night when I called the police. He never said he was showing up before.”
“You are going to call the police again, right? He says he’s coming here. He must know our address. I told you not to leave the number listed. Celia wouldn’t need it.”
“He must be joking, right? He’s just a nut.”
“Do you want to take that chance?” Jared asked.
“No, of course not. Go make sure the doors are locked.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Jared went to every door, making sure they were locked. And they were. Then he checked a few windows, but the windows in the house hadn’t been opened since November when the last Indian summer days blew away. Right when Celia disappeared.
If the guy on the answering machine really possessed the information he claimed, why hadn’t he gone to the cops and collected a reward? And besides, his voice sounded like air leaking out of a balloon, high and squeaky and annoying.
But they couldn’t take chances, could they?
As he returned to the living room where his mom was still on the phone with Detective Poole, a bizarre possibility popped into his mind: What if Domino55 and William Rose were the same person? Jared had never heard William Rose’s voice, so it was possible. Or what if they were friends, working together as partners in crime?
Then why show up in Hawks Mill, where everyone was after them?
His mom got off the phone. He saw two lines along the side of her mouth, lines he would have sworn weren’t there just a few months earlier. She’d always looked and acted so young compared to a lot of other parents, even ones the same age. Celia’s disappearance was etching itself on her face.
“They’re sending a car around to keep an eye on things,” she said.
“Good.”
“They’re busy, though. They’ve stepped up the patrols with William Rose on the loose. And they’re having some kind of press conference tonight. Just an update on everything, something about a connection between William Rose and Henry Allen. I’m curious, but I don’t want to watch it.”
“Right. I heard—”
“You heard what?”
Jared stopped. He took a mental step back. He wanted something from his mom, so he couldn’t just go wandering into the conversation as if it were an unseen minefield. He needed to be careful. He knew she would be reluctant to let him go on TV. But he could try to bargain. . . .
He desperately wanted to speak on Natalie’s behalf. To plead for her on TV.
To do something to save her from William Rose.
“I know what that stuff’s all about. The Henry Allen and William Rose stuff.”
“What is it?” she asked. She wore the same serious look she had when she worked on her taxes or paid bills.
“I need something from you first.”
“What?”
“It’s a big favor.”
“Are you trying to negotiate with me? You know, I can talk to Detective Poole any time I want. I can read about this in the paper. What do you want?”
“I want to go on TV tomorrow night. With you.”
His mom stared at him for a long moment. Her eyes blinked a few times. “Are you nuts?”
“Listen to me, Mom.”
“Who told you about that? Did Becky call you?” Her voice rose with every word.
Jared felt as if he were trying to outwit a Jedi master. “No, Ursula did.”
“Ursula? What does she have to do with it?”
“She heard they wanted me to go on. They called her too, but her dad won’t let her. But she wants me to go on. She thinks it will be more emotional, more real if I’m on there. And it will keep the story alive.”
His voice sounded weak and unconvincing. Even though he was a teenager, his mom could make him feel like a little kid if she wanted to just by looking at him the right way.
“And what do you know about Henry Allen and William Rose?” she asked.
“Ursula . . . she came to the house the other night. She and Bobby Allen. And I went out and talked to them.”
“What did they want to talk about?” she asked.
“Bobby wanted to talk about his dad. About what I saw in that house. His body and how he died.”
“Shit.” Her eyes widened. “I guess I understand the curiosity. It’s a little morbid. . . .” She looked as though she wasn’t sure what to say next. “I really don’t like you having to keep thinking about it.”
“It’s fine, Mom.”
“But what is this about Bobby Allen and William Rose?” she asked. “They know each other? And what does that have to do with Ursula?”
“William Rose worked for Bobby Allen’s dad. That’s what I found out when they came to the house.”
Confusion crossed his mom’s face first, and then she looked determined.
“And they just came to the door? Out of the blue?” she asked.
“They hang out in the park a lot,” he said. “They’re always just kind of around.”
His mom looked distracted. She talked almost to herself. “I could call Ian and ask to talk to her.”
“Talk to Ursula?” he asked.
“Or . . . Get your coat.”
“Why?”
“I want to talk to these kids. If they’re in the park, it’s a sign I was meant to find them. Otherwise, I’ll call Ian.”
“Mom, don’t embarrass me.”
“You want both of us to go on TV with Reena? Then you’ll be embarrassed.”
She had him there. Check.
“What about Domino fifty-five?” he asked.
“If the guy’s dangerous, then it’s better if we’re gone. Right?”
He couldn’t argue with her logic. He put his coat on.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Jenna opted to drive instead of walk. It was cold, too cold for her to be wandering around in the evening. And what if the kids weren’t there? It seemed easier to jump in and out of the car.
Jared rode slumped down in the passenger seat, embarrassed. If there had been a hole in the floor of the car, something he could slip through and disappear into, he would have done so. But Jenna was tired of hearing pieces of the story from a lot of different people. She could wait for the information to filter to her through the police, or she could go straight to the source. Bobby Allen. She barely remembered him from when he and Jared had played sports together.
And Ursula
. Shouldn’t she be reaching out to the girl more? They hadn’t spoken in weeks, and she was spending her time hanging out in the same park her mother was kidnapped from. Jenna imagined it made sense—someone might go to the last place their loved one was seen alive. Someone might feel a connection that way, a bond to a place in the absence of the actual person.
As she thought those things, she rolled past the corner where she was supposed to pick Celia up on that November night. They found the earring there, but no one heard a scream. No one saw anything. People drove or walked by places where unspeakable and awful events happened all the time. A spot where someone dropped dead of a heart attack. A place where one lover told another he or she was leaving. Those spots weren’t marked. Nobody knew. Life went on.
Her body tensed as they went past, but Jared didn’t say anything. He stared out the window, the back of his head toward her. She let the scene go by without comment.
“Where are they?” she asked.
“By the band shell. Usually.”
Jenna went around to the far side of the park and pulled into the small public lot over there. The place had always held happy memories. She had brought Jared there when he was little, and her father had brought her before that, pushing her on the swings and watching her chase butterflies. And she and Celia—the park had been their spot. Where they met, where they planned.
“It looks empty,” Jared said. “We should go.”
“Hold it.”
“If you want to talk to Ursula, just call her. Or Bobby.”
“I don’t want to wait.” Jenna paused. “If you’re going to sit here, I’ll leave the car on.”
He heaved a heavy sigh, then pushed his door open.
They walked toward the band shell, the lights along the path casting their shadows ahead of them. The place did look deserted, locked up and shut down for winter. In just a couple of months, the flowers would be starting to bloom, the world returning to life again. Would everyone have forgotten about Celia by then? Would they possibly know some kind of answers by that point?
Jenna was glad Jared had stepped out of the car with her and walked along the path by her side. It seemed crazy to be in the same park where her friend was kidnapped, but the kidnapper was likely hundreds of miles away. It was a big world, one so big she wondered how anyone—living or dead—ever got found when they disappeared. So many places to run to or hide in. So many places to be discarded or buried. Hidden away forever . . .
Jenna stopped. A pang of nostalgia jabbed her in the heart. As a teenager, she’d come here, sometimes with a group of friends that included Celia and sometimes not. On more than one occasion, she’d spent a hot summer night making out with a guy from school in a deep recess of the band shell, their bodies wedged against a stack of chairs or sprawled over a collection of discarded cushions. In the darkness, she could have gone back in time, back to a place she once knew. Only Jared’s presence and the heavy weight of Celia’s loss reminded her she was well and truly an adult.
You can’t go back again. You can’t undo what’s been done.
“We can leave now, right?” Jared asked.
Jenna looked around some more. “Is this the only place?”
“I guess so. I don’t get invited—”
“This is the place,” a voice said.
Jenna spun to her right, toward the sound of the voice. A figure emerged from the side of the band shell, one that looked so familiar to Jenna that her heart stopped for a moment. She really felt as if she’d gone back in time because Ursula looked more like Celia than ever. Same posture, same height. Younger than Celia was on the day she disappeared, but compared to Celia at age fifteen, almost identical.
“What are you two doing here?” Ursula asked.
She didn’t approach them, but stood with her arms folded across her chest. She looked cold or uncertain. Or both.
Jenna walked toward her. “We were looking for you.”
“Why?”
As Jenna came closer she saw a hard cast to Ursula’s features, something that had developed during her teenage years. She’d always been strong-willed, always tough, but becoming a teenager seemed to have added an extra shell to her that repelled any and all attempts to break through.
Maybe Jared had been right. Maybe Ursula was just a bitch.
Or . . . Jenna thought of what she’d learned from Ian. Celia’s first affair had happened three years earlier, just as Ursula was entering adolescence. It was hard enough being a kid without having the added stress of your parents’ marital problems. Ian hadn’t said if Ursula knew, but even if she didn’t, she might have picked up on the negative vibes in the house. That would be enough to make anybody mad at the world.
“Do you just hang out here alone?” Jenna asked.
“Sometimes.”
“Is it safe?”
“I’m not spooked by what happened to Mom, if that’s what you mean.”
“Not just that,” Jenna said. “I wouldn’t think a young girl would hang out in any park alone when it’s dark out.”
“I usually have Bobby or other friends with me.” She looked around, flipping her hair off her shoulders. Her voice lost some of its edge when she said, “It is good to see you, Jenna. I always think of calling you, but I never do.”
“I should call you more. I’ve been derelict.”
“It’s okay,” Ursula said. “We’re all kind of living in a swirl. It’s like one of those snow globes you have at Christmas. Except this is real, and it’s been shaken up and a bunch of bad stuff keeps blowing past our faces.”
“Yeah,” Jenna said, struck by the appropriateness of the metaphor. “I still should have reached out to you. Just to talk if nothing else.”
“I know you’ve been talking to Dad more. That’s nice.”
Jenna couldn’t read the girl’s tone. She thought she detected a slight, judgmental edge, but she decided to give Ursula the benefit of the doubt.
“How’s Bobby doing?” Jenna asked. “He lost his father.”
Ursula moved her upper body. It might have been a shrug, but Jenna again wasn’t sure how to read it. “The viewing is tonight. They’re laying him out over at Marcum and Sons.”
“Oh. Tonight? Are you going later?”
“Bobby and I had a huge fight over something, something that belongs to me. I don’t think I’m going.”
“Maybe we should go home, Mom,” Jared said.
“Wait a minute,” Jenna said. “Jared told me that Bobby’s dad worked with this William Rose guy. That’s the connection between the two of them. But what kind of work did he do for Bobby’s dad? How did that lead to his dad being dead in that house?”
“I’m not sure I understand it,” Ursula said.
“Try me. I bet you understand it better than you think.”
Ursula fixed Jenna with an impertinent stare, one intended to burn holes in Jenna’s flesh. The girl didn’t like to be challenged. Jenna knew she came by that honestly. Celia didn’t like to be pushed or challenged either. Queen bees don’t like to have the drones rise up against them. But Jenna had been in stare-downs with Celia. She didn’t always defer to her more polished friend. Jenna’s spine had plenty of steel, especially after the past few months. She could handle Ursula.
“It was some security stuff,” she said. “I guess Mr. Allen had employees he didn’t trust, and he wanted to keep an eye on them. Maybe it was even like blackmail. You know, get some dirt on the employees and then they wouldn’t act out or maybe they’d even get fired. I think William Rose was doing that.”
“Spying,” Jenna said, cutting to the chase.
“Right.”
“But Bobby doesn’t know why William Rose killed his dad?”
“Something went wrong. It usually does, especially if you’re dealing with lowlifes.” The girl sounded wise beyond her years. And she p
robably was.
“And that’s it?” Jenna asked.
“Could there be more?”
“Why do you want Jared to go on TV so much?” Jenna asked.
“Mom?”
Jenna looked over at Jared, and even in the dark she could read the look on his face. It said, Let it go. Let it rest.
“Can’t we discuss this at home? Just you and me?”
Jenna ignored him and waited for Ursula to reply.
The girl said, “Isn’t it obvious? He’s a new voice. He can plead for the safe return of his girlfriend. Don’t you want her to come back safely?”
“Of course,” Jenna said.
“I’d be happy to go on TV and talk about Mom. Do you remember I did it a few times when she first disappeared? I talked to Reena. I talked to a couple of other shows. I did whatever I thought would help.”
“I remember.”
It was one of the saddest spectacles of those first days, watching Ursula on the TV. She squinted against the lights, her eyes fixed on the camera. Her voice quavered as she spoke from a combination of nerves and grief. Jenna understood why Ian wouldn’t let her back on. It was the same reason she didn’t want to let Jared do it—why expose your kids to that? It was bad enough the adults had to publicly grieve.
“And I’m worried about Bobby,” Ursula said. “His dad was murdered. Even if I’m mad at him, he’s a good friend.” She looked down at the ground and kicked a small rock out of the way. When she spoke again, her voice was lower. “I have a lot of reasons.”
“Sure,” Jenna said.
“Don’t you want to go on?” Ursula asked, turning to Jared.
“I do,” he said, his voice low in the cold night.
“Look, Jenna, you just have to do the right thing here,” Ursula said. “You just do. It’s one of the best chances we have to find this guy. And we need to find this guy. We all benefit. We can learn what happened to Mom. And Natalie.” Ursula lifted her arms and then let them fall to her sides. “We have to.”
