“Oh. I’m sorry. You startled me for a moment — I th-thought you were…”
I give her a reassuring smile and hold out my hand. You would think that being an identical twin sits in your psyche at all times, but there are so many moments I forget to other people, I’m not my own person. I’m one half of a whole. I glance at Dan and notice boredom behind his gaze. I feel my defenses rise.
“Lavender. I’m Juniper’s twin.”
“Yes,” the lady says, refusing my hand. “the resemblance is…striking.”
“So I’ve heard,” I widen my eyes, hopefully as an invitation. “And you are?”
“Oh!” She laughs nervously but still doesn’t take my hand.
Well this is incredibly awkward.
She doesn’t meet my eyes when she replies, “I’m…I’m Tracey. We spoke on the phone. I didn’t realize you’d actually come.”
I frown. If coldness had a body, it would be Tracey.
She turns her attention to Dan.
“I need to get inside. We’ll talk later?”
He nods before turning to me and Tracey walks up the steps into the building without a backward glance. Only then do I remember hearing about her. I squint my eyes in distaste as I watch her retreat. She actively makes Juniper’s life a living hell. And…I think….do I remember Juniper telling me about suspecting her having an affair with the principal?
My brain is lost in thought when a voice at my side startles be back into the present.
“What are you doing here?”
“Hi,” I blink and move my attention to Dan. I shift my weight so my outstretched hand is facing him now.
He rolls his eyes and limply shakes my hand.
Gross. Another thing our mother always taught us: don’t trust men with a limp handshake. “Limp handshake, limp soul.” She would tell us. Then she would smile a mischievous smile and shrug, “among other things, of course.”
Juniper hated that rule.
Hates.
Shit.
I inconspicuously wipe my hands on my jeans and offer a smile.
“What’s the latest?”
He looks at his watch for a brief second before throwing me a cursory glance.
“Nothing.”
“Have you checked her car? I saw it in the parking lot. It’s still here. That’s weird, right? Maybe you could dust for fingerprints or something? I don’t know.” I’m rambling but I can’t stop — the nervous energy is flying up and out of my mouth before I can censor anything.
“We could also check security tapes, see if she ever showed up yesterday. If her car is here….that means she had to have been here at one point, right?”
He chews the corner of his lip and rolls his eyes. “Sure. I don’t know if I will find anything, but I can check it out.”
“Okay. Because, it’s just odd to me that her car is still here. Did she leave with someone? Someone doesn’t just disappear.”
“Some people do. Also, Sacred Heart doesn’t have security cameras outside. They’ve never had a reason to, really.”
My eyes widen in shock.
“They don’t,” I repeated, unsure I heard correctly.
Who doesn’t have security cameras outside?
He avoids eye contact, kicking at a rock by his shoe.
“Nope.”
I can tell by the gravel in his voice that I’m annoying him, but I don’t care. I can feel my emotions gathering in my chest, threatening release. I don’t know how to make him understand that this isn’t Juniper. That something had to have happened.
“On my worst day in high school, I hitched a ride to Tijuana and didn’t come back for three days. On Juniper’s worst day, she came home and hid under her blankets for a week. She doesn’t disappear.”
He looks at me now, questions in his eyes that weren’t there before. I keep pushing.
“Is it okay if I go into her classroom?”
He looks at his watch again, clearly wanting to get rid of me.
“Right now?”
I nod. “I know her schedule. Classes won’t start for another 30 minutes. I just want to see if there’s something that looks out of place.” I pull at a strand of hair and twist it around my finger, suddenly nervous that he might say no. Never mind that I’ve never been in her classroom and so I couldn’t necessarily find what’s out of place — but I do know I would be able to spot something decidedly not Juniper. He squints off in the distance, thinking. Finally he shakes his head and waves me by as he starts walking toward the parking lot.
“It’s not a crime scene. I can’t stop you.”
I’m already walking up the steps. I pause for a moment before walking in, noticing Dan making his way to the parking lot. He’s either curious about her car or making his own disappearing act and leaving me to wander these halls alone. I turn back toward the double doors and take a deep breath. I recognize them from all of the videos Juniper’s sent me. Not wanting to waste any more time, I step foot into the halls and look around.
I feel closer to Juniper than I have in days. Almost as if I walk where she has walked, I can conjure her presence through the footsteps left in the hallway.
“Ms.. Reese?”
I blink, realizing someone is talking to me, and turn toward the voice. It’s a young man, his backpack flung over his shoulder haphazardly. When I catch his gaze he tries to hide the shock but it crosses his features in a flash.
“Hi,” I respond. I offer a smile. “I am Ms.. Reese but probably not the one you’re looking for — my name is Lavender.”
He looks really confused now.
“I’m Steven.”
“Hi, Steven. Listen…”
He chuckles, interrupting me. I stop talking, swallowing the question I was about to ask.
“This is weird. You look…you look exactly like her.”
“Yeah. We’re twins. Identical.” I tilt my head, explaining the obvious. I feel like I need to go super slow with this man-boy standing in front of me and I’m completely lost as to how to handle logical explanations — or just a simple conversation — with him.
“Cool. I’m a twin.”
I nod in encouragement.
“Oh, really? So you know how it is,” I wave my hand in front of me, a cue that I really don’t want to sit here and talk about this. “I’m actually looking for her classroom. Could you show me?”
“She’s not here.” His hand grips the strap of his backpack, the other hand dangles by his side holding a cell phone. He’s still staring.
I start to sigh and then stop, not wanting him to see my frustration.
“I know. That’s why I’m wanting to find her room. I’m thinking I might see something letting me know where she went.”
He stares at me for a few more seconds before his sneakers start squeaking against the linoleum. I’m not sure if he’s running away or leading me to her classroom, so I stay frozen for a moment, realizing how unsure I am of how to interact with teenagers.
“Follow me,” he says, calling over his shoulder.
My lips push together and I raise an eyebrow. Right. I’m fairly certain by now that I would lose my ever-loving mind working with this age group every single day, not knowing what was going on in their heads at any given moment. As I shuffle my feet a few times to catch up with Steven, I consider the patience of Juniper and am thankful all over again for my advertising job back home.
Her classroom is empty when we get to the door, and I say a quick thanks to Steven who is muttering about needing to get to his first period study hall. I give a half wave as I walk through the threshold, and pause for a moment. I run back into the hallway.
“Hey Steven!”
I barely catch him before he turns the corner. He turns and looks at me, eyes wide.
“Yeah?”
I walk over to him, my arms crossed. “You said my sister wasn’t here today.”
He nods and glances around and I notice the students watching us and whispering to each other. It’s cle
ar he doesn’t want to be anywhere near me, but I persist.
“How did you know?”
He bends his eyebrows together. “What do you mean?”
I widen my own eyes to match his and point in his direction. “You were walking in from outside when you called me Ms.. Reese. How did you know she wouldn’t be here today if you had just gotten to school?”
He clears his throat and slightly takes a step toward the hallway behind him. “Uh. I don’t know, miss…really. I just…I just said it. I don’t know. She never misses and I knew she was out yesterday so I just thought once I knew you weren’t her…she must be gone.”
His circular logic might just send me over the edge. I roll my eyes and wave him off again and put his name in the back of my mind for later. Walking back into Juniper’s room, I watch the groups of students pass me by and whisper.
Sorry, sis. You might have some damage control to do when you get back.
As soon as I walk into her room, though, I’m overwhelmed with the sense of Juniper that permeates the space. There’s her diplomas — a BS from Brown University and the M.Ed. she received from Stanford. Next to it is a bulletin board full of pictures of her travels — Paris, Hawaii, the Alaskan cruise we took two years ago. We loved it so much we decided to extend our stay and turned the second half of the cruise into an Alaskan vacation. Memories come quickly. Her wanting to read in the hotel watching the snow fall while I wanted to hike, the quirky locals, the grizzly that roamed into the street as we were trying to make our way to the airport. I fight from grabbing the pictures for myself and focus on finding something that feels out of place. I walk to her desk and move the chair to sit. I grab a pen and twirl it in my hand, flipping through the calendar she has opened to Friday’s date. There’s nothing scheduled for that evening, but on Saturday she missed a hair appointment. The pen freezes mid-roll as I lean closer to read over the appointment again.
Juniper never misses her hair appointments.
I’m leaning back in the chair, staring out the window, when I hear footsteps. It’s Dan. I look at him as he pauses in the doorway for a second before walking toward me, a toothpick dangling from his mouth. He pauses for a moment and points to something behind me. I turn to look and notice notes stuck to the whiteboard. Different sizes, some on sticky notes, some actual cards. WE MISS YOU! is scrawled next to them in dry erase marker. It’s only been a few days and her students are creating a makeshift shrine. I wrinkle my nose at the thought, but am also touched by the display.
“Your sister was popular.”
“Is,” I correct. And then nod, a small smile playing on my lips. “She loves her job.”
He clears his throat.
I swivel the chair back to face him.
“What.”
I can tell there’s something he’s not saying.
“Did you find something in her car?”
He swallows for a moment before pulling something out of his pocket. It’s a piece of paper. Something about it jolts a memory, but my brain is still so foggy I can’t pull it into clarity. He’s avoiding eye contact. When he begins talking, his voice is strained.
“Was Juniper stressed?”
The corners of my lip drop downward before I straighten my face, remaining stoic despite the panic rolling through my veins.
“As stressed as any teacher would be at the end of the year. Why?”
“You said on her worst day she came home and hid under her blankets for a week. Did she suffer from depression?”
I wait a moment before responding.
“No. Only when she found out our mother was dead.” My breath catches at the end of the sentence and I pull my thumb up to my mouth and start gnawing at the cuticle. I wonder if I will ever be able to talk about it without crying — without wanting to run away so I can feel as if I’m not living in this skin without my mother for just a moment.
He looks down at a desk briefly before deciding to sit in it, and folds his hands in front of him. My nerves are at a peak right now trying to decipher his body language.
“Tracey mentioned she had a hair appointment on Saturday.”
I look at him.
“How does she know that?”
He shrugs.
“Maybe they talk?”
I laugh. “My sister does not talk with…with her.” I point toward the door and fight a look of disgust from crossing my face. “She had it in for Juniper from day one.”
Surprise clouds his face for a split second before making a sound as if he’s thinking. “I can still reach out to the salon. See if she made it.”
“She didn’t.”
He looks at me.
“And you know….”
“She would have sent me a picture. She always sends me pictures when she gets her hair done.” He looks at me with doubt and I shrug.
“I haven’t heard from her since Friday. She didn’t go.”
“What about her relationship? Didn’t you mention to me that she had recently ended things with her boyfriend?”
I nod. “Yeah.” I flick my wrist as if throwing away the thought. “He got adamant about everything, gave her an ultimatum, and Juniper doesn’t work with ultimatums. She ended things.”
“How torn up was she about the break up?”
I laugh again. This guy.
“She wasn’t. She and Simon are notoriously hot and cold, so for her this was the last straw.” I remember the conversation we had that night — her exclamations at finally feeling free and able to live her life. My eyes widen.
“Oh. She said something about traveling to Morocco finally. Maybe she booked a ticket and left?”
Dan flicks his eyes toward me and then back down again.
“What are you trying to prove, detective? You obviously found something but haven’t said anything about it.”
“I didn’t find anything about a trip to Morocco.” He fingers the piece of paper in his hand. “But I did find this.” He taps it against the desk and looks at me. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say she wanted to disappear. For good. I’ve seen these kinds of notes in dorm rooms and households and offices where people were seemingly happy and loved their life and did a fantastic job hiding how they really felt until they just….couldn’t anymore.”
I blink.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I don't know what scientific explanation there is for what happens when identical twins are separated by death, but I imagine it has something to do with your molecular structure shifting into second gear. And if I listen hard enough, I can still hear the second beat to the rhythm of my heart. I know Juniper is still alive because I feel her.
A laugh escapes me and I bring my hand up to cover my mouth.
If you could only hear this guy talk, J.
“You okay?”
I cross my legs and shrug. “I’m fine. Juniper isn’t dead.”
He drums his fingers on the desk in front of him, a toothpick poking out of his mouth, bouncing up and down. He says nothing. I glance at the clock and realize we don’t have very long before students start filing in, expecting to learn something about math.
“She was quiet, but even more so before she disappeared, had recently been through a breakup, didn’t really have anyone close to her….”
I shake my head. Refusing to believe it.
“Assuming someone is upset or disappointed or sad or whatever from a note seems a lot like conjecture. Especially because you haven’t even told me what it says.” I hold out my hand, wrinkling my fingers for him to give it to me. I need to see it. I need to read what she wrote. He just looks at me, frozen.
“Let me see it.”
He hands it over, and I grab the paper. Opening it up, something snaps free in my mind and I stare at the handwriting. It’s not hers. It’s not her handwriting. I breathe out relief while feeling a sense of curiosity and dread take over. It’s not hers, but I know this handwriting.
I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE.
Th
at’s all it says. It’s another note with five words. I push aside the anger at their inability to care and their willingness to assume she ended everything over five words because there’s something in the note I wasn’t expecting.
“Wait,” I breathe out.
The way the letters collapse over each other — I stumble for my bag where I shoved the other sheet of paper last night. I pull it out and shake it with my hand, motioning for Dan to grab it.
“There’s-there’s something here. I know it. She was getting notes. This has the same handwriting. I found it stashed in a compartment in her nightstand drawer.”
Dan looks at me, his eyebrows bent inward. He reads the note I found and takes the note he found in Juniper’s car, comparing them.
“They’re definitely written by the same person,” he says.
“Yeah. But who?”
He studies the pieces of paper again.
“You found this in her nightstand?”
“Yeah, it was hidden in a box where you keep valuables — I almost missed the latch until I went back and looked again. Why would she hide that? She didn’t say anything to me about someone writing her…”
I need to talk to you….
Her words echo back to me and I pause. Is this what Juniper wanted to talk to me about on Friday? I push back the unease forming a brick in my throat as I remember the shadow that crossed her face in the Marco Polo message.
I need to talk to you…
She didn’t get to me in time. Whatever these notes are, it’s why she’s gone.
“Are you with me, Lavender?”
I glance up at Dan. “Huh?”
He waves the plastic bags. “I said I needed to make a meeting back at the office but I would take these with me and see what I can find.”
I shake my head to free myself from the bad feeling that just snaked its way up my back, the uneasiness a smoke filling the spaces in my thoughts.
“Okay, thanks. Yeah.”
I massage the back of my neck and manage a small smile before he turns and walks out of the classroom. I glance at my watch and realize I only have a few minutes before Juniper’s students will begin filing into the room. I gather my things, my heart tripping over herself in my chest. Something is wrong. For the first time, I’m not just worried about finding Juniper. I’m worried about finding her alive.
Curious Obsession Page 3
