by Eryn Scott
Seeing Cassie reminded Hadley of how she’d been so tight-lipped for Paul when he’d gone to visit earlier. The recent scare on her life still fresh in her mind, Hadley contemplated Cassie’s involvement in Miranda’s disappearance. Did Cassie seem like a person who could be responsible for hurting another? From what Hadley had heard around town, the teen definitely had the mean-girl, queen-bee act down, a role requiring a shocking lack of humanity or empathy.
Hadley chewed on her bottom lip as she thought. Cassie was a grade-A snob and could very well be declining to say much as an excuse to throw around her family’s influence.
Or …
A shiver skittered up and down Hadley’s spine as her bike tires whirred along the sidewalks around the town hall building. It was possible the girl was lying to hide something more sinister.
5
The next morning, Hadley bundled herself into her favorite quilted down jacket and trundled out to the Jam Van.
After dropping off dinner for Paul the night before—and dramatically complaining to him that her nice sisterly gesture had almost cost her her life—she’d decided to drop her bike off at the jam kitchen and drive the van home in lieu of braving the dark streets on her bicycle again. Even though she’d brought the near miss up to Paul in a lighthearted storytelling way, she had to admit the event had made her a little skeptical about her small town’s safety.
Tiny, cold raindrops stung her face as she walked up the path toward the driveway and added another thing to the list of reasons she was happy she’d decided to drive the van home last night. Climbing inside, Hadley shot one last longing glance at her cozy house. Ansel, her black-and-white cat, sat in the front window, watching her leave. She couldn’t see Marmalade, her orange kitten, but knew the spunky girl was most likely sitting under the sill, attacking the older cat’s tail. Ansel looked down and swatted at something below the window, proving her conjecture.
Hadley sighed, wishing she could stay home and snuggle up on the couch with her cats, a book, and a cup of steaming tea and wait out the gloomy weather. But today was Saturday, Stoneybrook’s weekly farmers market, and she had jam to sell.
Pulling the door shut behind her, she sank into the seat and sucked in a deep breath, sitting in the new car smell the delivery van still held. She swiped at her tired eyes and wondered if her brother had gotten any sleep last night. When she’d left him with his dinner, he and Kevin had appeared ready to pull an all-nighter. They’d just gotten the files from Cascade Ridge on the teen who’d gone missing last week, and they were combing through for any similarities.
A shiver trickled down Hadley’s back as she started up the van. Blinking one last time at the gray, cloudy sky, she pulled out of her driveway and turned toward town.
After parking in the alley behind her jam kitchen, she hopped out and began loading the boxes of jam she’d set aside to take to the market. While she worked, her phone buzzed. Her forehead wrinkled in concern when she pulled it out and read over the message from Suze.
Hey, nothing big to carry today, so I’m gonna drive myself. I’ll meet you there.
A pit formed in Hadley’s stomach. She sent back a thumbs-up because she didn’t trust her words—even typed—to not convey the disappointment she experienced at Suze’s announcement. They always rode to the market together in the Jam Van, ever since Hadley got it earlier that year. Sure, it was only truly necessary for Suze when she needed to transport a piece of art too large to fit in her powder-blue Mini Cooper, but it had become a sort of comfortable ritual Suze had taken her up on even when she’d only had a box of small prints she could easily fit under one arm.
Drops of rain gathered on her phone screen as Hadley stood in the alley. Maybe Suze was running late. The woman was known for her scattered sense of time, usually arriving anywhere she went at least fifteen minutes behind schedule. Hadley’s aching heart relaxed a bit.
That’s probably it. She doesn’t want me to have to wait for her. Giving a decisive nod, she pushed the worries and doubts away and loaded the last box into the van.
Her phone buzzed again.
Text me when you get here and I’ll come help you with the tables and the canopy.
Oh, so Suze was already at the market. The stabbing ache of doubt hit Hadley full force once more. Suze never got to the market early. What was going on? Slamming the van door vented most of her frustration, but she couldn’t help the river of scenarios rushing at her as quick and forceful as the great Cascade River which flowed through their small town.
Maybe she was meeting Paul for breakfast, and was already down at that end of town, so she didn’t want to come all the way back here?
The thought would support the fact that Suze and Paul didn’t know Hadley knew about their secret and were still trying to hide the relationship from her. Hadley chewed on her lip. The only problem with that scenario was the town hall and Fenton Park end of town was only a few blocks away, so it wouldn’t have taken Suze more than two minutes to drive back.
Which means maybe Suze just doesn’t want to hang out with me as much anymore …
Hadley hated the tight sensation in her chest as the idea swirled through her mind. She and Suzanne were adults, grown women. This kind of friendship drama didn’t have a place in a thirty-year-old’s life.
But as she locked up and headed around to the driver’s side, concern only wormed its way deeper into her heart. She almost considered not texting Suze when she pulled into her usual spot in the parking lot, proving the anxiety had latched on and made a quick home in her.
“Don’t be silly, Hadley,” she told herself, texting Suze after all.
Her shoulders tensed when she saw Suze cresting the small hill between the market and the parking lot a few moments after she sent the message. She focused on pulling open the van’s door and setting out the wagons they used to cart their supplies back and forth.
“Hey.” Suze stopped next to Hadley, grabbing the other end of the foldable cart and clicking it into place.
When it was open, the two women stood eye to eye. Suze pushed a damp curl out of her face and said, “Nothing like a drenched market day to make everyone glad it’s the last outdoor one of the season.”
Blinking, Hadley nodded to cover up that she’d completely forgotten it was the last Saturday before they moved the whole operation into the community center for the fall and winter. It always happened right around her birthday, so she shouldn’t have been surprised.
I guess I’ve been more preoccupied than I thought, Hadley realized.
“Yeah, no one likes soggy market buys,” she said with a smile, trying to act normal since the reason she’d been preoccupied was this secret Paul and Suze had been keeping from her. And even though she tried to act normally, she knew her voice was too tight, her smile too forced. There was no way her friend would fall for it.
Suze wrinkled her nose. “Soggy art is the worst.” She hopped into the van and began handing out boxes and tables for Hadley to load into the wagons.
Hadley tried to lose herself in the physical work, but couldn’t help wondering if Suze had completely missed her act or if she just didn’t care. Before she could dwell too much on it, however, they were packed and ready.
As if to prove the town council had made the right call in making this the last outdoor market, the raindrops increased in size and ferocity, forcing Suze and Hadley to jog the rest of the way. It’d been far too long since they’d had to set up the pop-up, though, and their cold, wet fingers fumbled with the straps and stakes.
Finally, their cover was up and secured. Hadley grabbed their chairs, opened them, and they both collapsed in a wet heap into them. Their relieved exhales turned into laughter, and things quickly seemed to click back into their normal dynamic.
“T-minus half an hour,” Suze said, checking her watch. “We’d better get started unpacking.”
Hadley nodded, standing and moving toward the wagon before she froze. “Wait.” She turned back toward Suze. “Si
nce when do you wear a watch?”
She’d been trying to get her friend to wear some sort of timekeeping device for years—or to simply use the clock on her phone, even though she seemed to forget that half the time—before resigning to never expect her earlier than fifteen minutes late.
If Suze hadn’t just been caught in a bitter deluge of rain and wasn’t already sporting a pale complexion, Hadley was quite sure her face would’ve lost all its color. As it was, Suze’s gaze flicked back and forth between her wrist and her friend a few times before she answered.
“Since now. Isn’t it great?” She laughed too loud and grabbed her table from the wagon, pretending to be wholly engrossed in the simple setup.
Narrowing her eyes at her friend for a second, Hadley decided—bad timing or not—she had to figure out what was going on.
“You sure everything’s okay?” she asked Suze, glancing down at her shoes for a second. “You’ve been acting different lately.”
When she looked back up, her friend’s face was a mask of smiles and lies. Suze waved a hand toward Hadley. “Dude, I got a watch. It’s not the end of the world. You’ve been bugging me to get one for years.”
Hadley chewed on her lip. “It’s not just the watch, Suze. You’ve been—”
“Really, Had,” Suze said, interrupting her. “I don’t know what to tell you. Nothing’s going on.” Suze began pulling her art out of a plastic tub where it had been safe from the rain until their tent was up.
Hadley could count on one hand the times she and Suze had gotten in fights in the almost three decades they’d been friends. She turned her focus onto her own table and wares to cover the pain she was sure was evident on her face. They set up in silence and were both ready to sell just in time, each setting the last piece in place on their respective tables as the first groups of shoppers huddled under umbrellas and entered the park.
After about an hour—and quite a few sales, considering the weather—Hadley saw her parents heading toward her. They were sharing a large polka-dot umbrella and practically beamed as they hurried over to the cover of Hadley and Suze’s large canopy. Hadley waved and was just about to ask if Gran had decided not to come after all when her father closed their umbrella and she noticed her grandmother standing right behind them.
Gran wore a stylish, lime-green rain jacket and she held her own, smaller umbrella made from clear plastic.
“That’s an interesting umbrella, Gran,” Hadley said, studying it as her grandma ducked under the tent and collapsed the contraption.
“I spent close to an hour on these curls. I’m not about to hide them under one of those dark caves.” Gran hurried over and kissed Hadley on the cheek, bringing with her a waft of perfume. “Suzanne, it’s wonderful to see you again,” she said, stepping over to kiss Suze in the same manner.
“I think your curls rock, Millie,” Suze said, pulling back to admire the way her gray hair was styled in bouncy curls just skimming the top of her shoulders.
Gran patted her hair. “Why, thank you, Suze. I found a particularly lovely gal on YouTube who shows just how to do it, if you want her name.”
Suze pressed her lips together and looked back at Hadley, a smile playing at the corners of her eyes.
Hadley mouthed, YouTube? at Suze and their eyes widened in surprise. Her grandmother’s confession about watching videos online matched with her calling Suze by her nickname instead of the formal Suzanne she normally insisted on using caught Hadley off guard.
Suze greeted Hadley’s parents, and they were chatting about the weather when Hazel Smith bustled over, a plastic bag rustling at her side.
“Lauren. Steven. So good to have you home,” Hazel said as she pulled each of them in for hugs. “
“Hazel, this is my mother, Amelia,” Steven said.
Gran cleared her throat. “Call me Millie, actually.” She stuck out her hand to shake Hazel’s.
Hadley’s eyebrows shot up, but she quickly hid her surprise as Gran glanced over with a wink.
“Whatcha got there, Hazel?” Suze asked, pointing to the bag.
“Oh, I made these up this morning. I know everyone in Stoneybrook is doing what they can, but I figured we get out-of-towners during the market and …” She shrugged and pulled out a pin with a picture of Miranda. The words Missing and Any information helps were printed above and below Miranda’s sweet face.
Hazel handed a pin to each person in the tent.
“That’s so thoughtful of you,” Lauren said, pinning hers to her jacket.
Hadley was about to express a similar thanks, but stopped short. Cassie and the other Lees walked by, sporting incredibly expensive-looking umbrellas, leading a group of people Hadley didn’t recognize, but who appeared to be in a similar tax bracket, if not higher.
She remembered Cassie’s dangerous driving last night and the doubts it had brought up in her mind about whether or not the teenager could’ve actually had something to do with Miranda’s disappearance. Cassie broke off to check out Josie’s pottery, another teenage girl by her side, as the adults kept walking toward the Fenton Farms booth at the end of the market.
Hadley grabbed her rain jacket and pulled it on, flipping up the hood before turning back. “Can you guys watch my booth? I’ve gotta talk to someone.”
She didn’t even wait for an answer, since she and Suze covered each other’s stands all the time. Rain splattered against her hood and she pulled it tighter as she walked over to the pottery booth. Paul couldn’t get Cassie to talk, but maybe Hadley could.
For Miranda’s sake, she had to try.
6
Hadley pulled off her hood as she scooted underneath the cover of Josie’s booth, knowing hoods always affected the amount she was able to hear. She gave the potter a silent wave and then sidled up to Cassie and her friend.
Cassie’s expertly highlighted blond locks cascaded out from a beanie that looked too soft to be anything but cashmere. Thinking of the time Gran said she’d just spent on her own curls, Hadley wondered how long it took Cassie to get her hair so perfect. She had to assume Cassie’s hairdresser was worth the small fortune she probably charged.
And if good hair was an indicator of wealth in this instance, Cassie’s guest was also upper class. The girl appeared to be of similar age, wore an almost identical beanie, and her golden locks—though shorter than Cassie’s—also peeked out from beneath it in a perfectly straightened asymmetrical bob.
An out-of-town friend who is just as rich as she is, if not more, Hadley pondered the ways in which she might use this to her advantage. Then she remembered how Cassie had nearly run her off the road last night. Wild driving may have been standard for the teen, but almost hitting a person was taking it to another level, as if she’d been showing off. Maybe I don’t have to question her at all, Hadley realized.
Her memory latched on to a time when she was seventeen. Her high-school boyfriend—now ex-husband—Tyler, had been tasked with entertaining his Seattle cousins for a week while their parents renovated their bathrooms. Tyler had been ecstatic, eager to show his cousins the local hot spots: Dari’s Rock, Jefferson Island, climbing up to Swift Peak at night.
It hadn’t taken more than two hours into the cousin’s visit for Tyler to realize the activities he’d grown up loving failed to have the same effect on his cousins. In fact, they seemed downright bored. Hadley remembered tagging along for the adventures and seeing the switch in Tyler when he decided he needed to step up his game if he wanted to impress them. He’d quickly brought up just about every town legend and scary story Stoneybrook had lingering in its darkest corners. Only then did the visitors seem interested. Hadley had bowed out of those adventures, telling Tyler he was on his own if he wanted to anger the ghost of Old Lady Birdie Wills.
Cassie Lee flipped over a mug. Hadley hoped the need to seem dangerous and exciting wasn’t exclusive to teenage boys. If she was right about Cassie’s driving last night, it would seem it wasn’t.
“Hi there, Josie,” Hadle
y said in her best casual, singsong voice.
“Quite the weather we’re having, huh?” Josie shook her head.
“I’m actually glad this weather showed up,” Hadley said. “We needed a bit of excitement around here.”
When Josie gave Hadley a confused glance, Hadley sent her a quick wink.
“Mmm hmm.” Josie leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms back. “A little too much excitement, if you ask me. I was planning on taking a walk down to the river later, but … I suppose I could take a nap instead.”
Hadley bit her lip to hide her smile as she felt the girls’ attention turn to them. “A nap’s always a good thing. I might take one after this too.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the visiting girl shoot Cassie a look.
“Omigosh, Cass. This just proves my point. We have to get you out of here.” The girl lowered her voice, but not enough.
Hadley had overheard Cassie complaining about living in Stoneybrook too many times to count since her family had moved there earlier that year, but apparently she didn’t want to seem weak in front of her friend.
“Pssh,” Cassie said. “I told you, Cascade Ridge is only twenty minutes away. Plus, those two are old, they don’t know what really goes on in this town. Look at this travel mug. I bet I could put Baileys in here and bring it to school and the teachers would all think I was just drinking coffee.” She let out a practiced giggle.
The other girl rolled her eyes. “You’re full of it. What do you have, like six people in your high school? Of course the teachers will notice. I bet no one sneezes without this whole town noticing.”
Cassie swiveled to face the girl, her perfectly plucked eyebrows raised. “Oh yeah? I wasn’t going to tell you this, because I didn’t want to scare you, but …” She looked over at Hadley, who pretended to be extremely interested in a vase. “My friend just went missing the other night, and I think I was the last person to talk to her before she was taken. No one knows what happened to her.”