“Oh. Well . . . Sorry. Wish I could help. I’ll let you know if I hear from her.”
“Thanks, Shelley.” He clicked off and dialed Jill’s cell again, hanging up as soon as he heard her voice mail. She was going to think something was wrong when she finally checked her messages. Served her right for making him worry. He checked the clock on his phone. If she still wasn’t home by eight thirty, he’d call her principal. Maybe she’d stopped by her classroom to pick up papers to grade or something.
He poured a Coke and ate some chips and salsa. A poor substitute for a steak. At eight forty-five, he called Carol Dorchester, Jill’s principal at the elementary school. “I’m sorry to bother you on the weekend, Carol, but Jill isn’t back from that conference yet. I just wondered if you knew whether the conference ran late or something . . .”
“Oh? I’m not aware that it ran over, but Jeannie Brent is the only other teacher who went from Sylvia. I heard her tell someone that Bill was meeting her in Kansas City for the weekend.”
“Oh, that’s right. I think Jill said something about that. Okay, well, thanks . . . I’m sure she’ll be home soon. Again, I apologize for calling on the weekend.”
“Oh, heavens, don’t mention it. Let me know if she’s not home in an hour or so.”
Mitch hung up feeling a little foolish. He’d completely forgotten about Jill telling him Bill and Jeannie were staying in Kansas City for the weekend. She often accused him of not really listening to her. And too often he was guilty as charged. Maybe she’d told him something about where she was tonight and he’d forgotten that, too. But if that was true, she wouldn’t have left a message on the answering machine saying she’d be home by five or six and then not call to let him know she was going to be three hours late. And they did have a date planned.
Maybe she’d called one of the kids on the way home and pulled over to talk. He dialed Katie’s cell phone.
“Papacito! What’s up?”
Hearing her chipper voice made him realize how much he missed his little girl already. “Hey, kiddo. You haven’t talked to Mom tonight, have you?”
“No. Why?” His daughter’s voice turned wary. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on. I just wondered if you’d heard from her. She’s on her way home from that conference in Kansas City and I keep getting her voice mail when I call.”
“She probably forgot to charge her stupid phone again.”
“That’s what I figured. So how’s everything going with you?” He changed the subject quickly, relieved Katie had assumed the same as he. “Did you get all your textbooks bought?”
“Oh. My. Gosh. Dad, do you know how much they charge for those things? My psychology book was almost a hundred bucks. I’m talking for one book!”
He chuckled. “Why do you think we made you pay for books?”
“Yeah, well, next time I’ll trade you, and I’ll pay tuition. It’d be cheaper!”
“Not hardly. You talk to your brother lately?”
“Ha!” He could picture the familiar drama queen eye roll. “I try to avoid Big Brother at all costs.”
“Unless you need wheels, of course.”
She laughed, sounding caught.
“So everything’s going good? You’ve had a good week?”
“Yeah. It’s going real good. Calculus is gonna stink, but I like my other classes so far. And my roommate is cool. Hey, Dad, let me talk to TP.”
“What is it with you Brannon women? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you and Mom like that dog better than you like me.”
“Come on, Daddy. Please? He misses me.”
“No. I am not putting a dog on the phone.”
“Come on, Dad . . .”
He looked over to see TP staring up at him with sad eyes, ears drooping. “Sorry, he’s on the other line. I’ll have him call you back later.” He laughed at his own joke.
“You’re mean.” But he heard the smile in her voice.
“Sorry, but no go. You––” He stopped to listen, thinking he heard the garage door. “Hey, Katiebug, I think Mom’s home. I’ll let you go, but glad everything’s going good. Mom will probably want to call you later this weekend, so we’ll talk more then, okay?”
“Okay. ’Bye, Daddy. Love you.”
The lump that came to his throat at her endearment took him by surprise––and made him a little more sympathetic to all the moping Jill had done lately.
He hung up and went to open the door that led from the kitchen to the garage. He flipped on the lights. But the garage door was closed and Jill’s side was still empty. Apparently it had been wishful thinking. It was pitch black outside now, and the garage windows formed dark rectangles between the tools and lawn chairs hanging on the walls.
It was after nine o’clock. Jill should have been home four hours ago. Where on earth was she?
Chapter 2
Autumn-like air gusted through the screened door raising goose bumps on Shelley Austin’s arms as she padded barefoot across the kitchen in her nightgown. She started to flip off the porch light when she noticed lights still on over at the Brannons’. It was almost eleven, and Mitch and Jill weren’t usually night owls. It was the weekend though, and Jill had been out of town. She hoped her friend was home safe. Mitch had sounded genuinely worried when he called earlier this evening.
She unlocked the French doors and went out onto the deck. There were lights on in the back of the Brannons’ house too. They must have company. But Mitch hadn’t mentioned that, and she didn’t remember seeing cars on the driveway. Mitch had said they were going to cook out when Jill got home. But––Shelley glanced back at the doors, remembering they’d been open all evening and she hadn’t heard any noises next door. Nor had she smelled anything cooking. And she would have. Mitch was famous for his steaks and grilled pork tenderloin. She’d always accused him of fanning the delicious smells over the fence on purpose, just to make the neighborhood jealous.
She picked up her cell phone from the charger as she went back through the kitchen. Jill’s photo popped up in her Favorites app––so pretty with her fair skin sprinkled with freckles, and those big blue eyes Shelley wished she’d been born with. She tapped out a quick text message: Home safe? Your man was worried about u!
She pressed Send, smiling, anticipating the reply Jill was sure to fire back. It still put a lump in her throat to think of the way God had put her in this house with a built-in best friend right next door at the toughest time in her life. Audrey was barely three when Tom left them, and his leaving had stolen so much. Not only the innocence of their family, but the example of a strong marriage she’d so wanted for Audrey. Thankfully, Mitch and Jill had patterned that beautifully.
Audrey even dated Evan Brannon for a while during high school. Shelley and Jill dared to daydream about sharing grandchildren someday, and they’d both been deeply disappointed when the kids broke up after eight and a half months. It had tested their fifteen-year friendship, each of them feeling defensive for their own child’s culpability in the breakup. But once Evan and Audrey went off to college––in two different directions––tensions eased, and Shelley and Jill were able to rekindle the close friendship they’d shared.
Shelley brushed her teeth and checked her phone one more time. Jill usually replied to a text almost instantly. But this being their first weekend as empty nesters, maybe they were already busy “nesting.” She smiled at the thought, happy for her friend, even as she pushed away a twinge of envy. Okay, more than a twinge.
She turned off the lamp on her nightstand and climbed into bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. She kept thinking about Jill and how worried Mitch had sounded.
She flipped on the lamp and texted Jill again. You okay? Just checking.
When she didn’t have an answer in a few minutes, she logged on to Facebook from her phone. Jill didn’t post there much, but it was worth a try. But her last status update was from two weeks earlier––a request for something she needed for a bulletin bo
ard she was making for her classroom––and half a dozen replies that followed.
Shelley turned out the light again. She drifted off, but started awake only thirty minutes later. Something seemed . . . urgent. She’d never put much stock in premonitions until Audrey went off to college five hours away in Springfield. Since then, at the oddest times, often in the middle of the night, she’d awaken feeling compelled to pray for her daughter or a customer who’d come into the gift shop. But tonight it was Jill who pressed firmly on her heart.
She crawled out of bed and went to look out the window again. The lights were still on at the Brannons’. They were up anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to call. She could put her mind at ease and finally get some sleep.
Mitch answered, sounding a little breathless she thought.
Oh dear. She hoped she hadn’t interrupted a romantic homecoming. She felt her face grow warm. She missed that part of marriage. “Um . . . hey, Mitch. Sorry to call so late. I just wanted to make sure Jill got home okay.”
“No––she’s still not home.”
She glanced at the clock. “What? It’s almost midnight.” She regretted it as soon as she said it. Of course he knew what time it was.
“I’ve called everyone I can think of. Nobody at the school seems to know why she wouldn’t have gotten home on time. And she’s not answering her phone.”
She could hear his apprehension escalating. As was hers. “Maybe she had car trouble or . . .” Try as she might, she couldn’t think of another good reason why Jill wasn’t home when she said she’d be, wasn’t answering her phone. “Where else could she be?”
“I have no idea, and the police didn’t sound like they would––”
“You called the police?”
“I called to see if there’d been any accidents reported. There haven’t, but when I asked about what to do if she’s not home soon they said they could enter Jill’s name and description into a national crime center––NCIC, I think they called it. And report it to some other system . . . MULES, I think it was. I forget what the acronym stands for.”
She nodded against the phone. “I’ve heard of that. That’s good then, right? They’re looking for her?”
“Maybe. But I got the impression they aren’t going to make this a high priority until they’re convinced Jill didn’t leave of her own accord. Or that it wasn’t just a misunderstanding or miscommunication. That’s what the dispatcher in Sylvia tried to tell me.”
“That’s ridiculous. Jill wouldn’t do this on purpose! Who else have you called?” Mitch went through a list that included his daughter, Jill’s other girlfriends, fellow teachers, everyone Shelley would have suggested.
“There is no way Jill wouldn’t call you if she was running this late, Mitch. Or if she decided to stop somewhere. Something just doesn’t feel right.” She worked to keep the alarm from her voice.
“I know. I’m about to go out of my mind over here. I––I don’t know what to do next.”
“Call the police back, Mitch. They need to take this seriously! Jill wouldn’t just not call. Something’s wrong.” She tried to conjure up some plausible explanation. “She wouldn’t have driven on to Lawrence to see the kids, would she? I know she’s really dreaded Katie leaving. Maybe she decided since she was that close to the college . . . ?”
“No, she wouldn’t do that without telling me. And it was almost nine when I talked to Katie. If Jill had driven straight there from Kansas City she would have been there by three, or earlier. Katie hadn’t talked to Evan, but I know Jill would have called Katie before him. And I just don’t think she would have horned in on Katie’s first weekend away at school.”
“No,” Shelley agreed. “I don’t either.”
“I haven’t talked to Evan… Or called Katie back. I didn’t want toscare them. Not this time of night.”
“No, of course not. But . . .” Alarm crept into her tone, despite her attempt to keep her voice steady. “It’s not like Jill not to call. And . . . I didn’t want to say anything, but I texted her a couple of times earlier and she never answered. That’s not like her either.”
“No. It’s not.” His sigh sounded like one of desperation. “I don’t know what else to do besides get in the car and going searching for her.”
“But what if she comes home while you’re gone? Then she’ll be the one worrying.”
“I know, but . . . what else am I supposed to do?”
“I’m coming over, Mitch. I’ll help you make some calls. Or I’ll stay there while you go out looking for her. I can’t just sit over here wondering what’s happening.” She hung up before he could argue with her.
As she threw on jeans and a sweater, she entertained second thoughts about going next door. She’d set careful boundaries with her best friend’s husband––for reasons she didn’t like to admit even to herself.
It hadn’t taken too many months of counseling after Tom left her to discover how vulnerable she was to a nice man who treated her with the respect and genuine affection that Mitchell Brannon did. And Mitch wasn’t flirting when he complimented a new haircut or teased her about losing her car keys. He treated her the same whether Jill was around or not.
And that was exactly the appeal. He was the real deal. Mitch Brannon got to her in a way that . . . well, it wasn’t appropriate to even think about. She wasn’t about to ruin the precious friendship she and Jill enjoyed by ever admitting her feelings––to anyone. But she’d spent a lot of hours on her knees, praying those feelings would just go away. When they didn’t, she prayed instead that she would never do or say anything that would betray her. And she begged Heaven to someday––sooner rather than later would be nice, God––place her in a marriage as loving and secure as Mitch and Jill’s was.
Disturbingly, that longing seemed to have deepened over the last year, now that her time wasn’t consumed with Audrey’s activities. She didn’t really miss the ball games and choir concerts and academic bowls that had taken up so much time. But she needed something to fill those empty hours now.
What she needed was a second job. Tom was footing the bill for Audrey’s tuition, but Shelley’s job managing Serendipity barely paid the bills. Thankfully, she’d been able to pay off the mortgage with the small inheritance she received after her father’s death three years ago. And Aunt Mona, her dad’s sister who lived in Poplar Bluff, mailed her a nice check every so often––always at just the right time, it seemed. But even though she’d trimmed her monthly expenses to the bone, she lived in constant fear that Jaclyn would decide to close the gift shop.
Serendipity was the only source for gifts in Sylvia, and the little shop did pretty well. Jaclyn had been generous with raises, but every raise only seemed to match a hike in the utility bills or the price of gas. If she was lucky, her savings account might pay for Audrey’s wedding in a few years. Although talking to a coworker who’d married off daughters recently, she wasn’t so sure. Thousands of dollars for one day? It was enough to make her wish Audrey would meet someone who’d want to elope.
She grabbed her cell phone and went out through the back door. The air was brisk, and she forced away thoughts of Jill stranded somewhere in the cold. The night had taken on an eerie quality, and she jogged the rest of the way to the Brannons’ backyard and up the deck stairs. She tapped on the French doors.
Inside, TP started barking, and a few seconds later, Mitch opened the door.
“Hey, thanks for coming over, Shelley. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. Still no word?”
He shook his head. “I checked back with Carol, her principal . . . Nothing. And I called the Highway Patrol. There haven’t been any accidents between here and Kansas City.”
“This is a little too familiar, isn’t it?”
He nodded, and she knew he was remembering another middle-of-the-night meeting. The night Evan and Audrey broke up, the two clueless teens had stayed out until almost three a.m. Not answering their phones, not calling to let anyone kn
ow where they were. That night it had been Shelley’s house serving as command central. Mitch and Jill had come over around twelve thirty, frantic, and for more than two hours they’d paced and railed and made if-they’re-not-dead-I’m-going-to-kill-them jokes. They’d awakened all of Evan’s and Audrey’s friends, trying to track down the star-crossed lovers, and eventually called the Highway Patrol.
But they’d only had to wait two hours before they’d heard the blessed grind of the garage door, the back door open, and Audrey tiptoe in, her tearstained face telling a story that wasn’t nearly as sad as the one Shelley and Jill and Mitch had been writing in their imaginations. Shelley sighed. Oh, how she wanted Jill to walk through this back door. Right now. Please, God. Let this end the same way. Please . . .
“Do you think you should call Evan and Katie?”
But he shook his head. “I’d rather not. Not until we just have to.”
She looked at the clock above the breakfast nook table. The one Mitch had given Jill for her last birthday. Fifteen minutes after midnight. “They’re probably still up, Mitch. It’s Friday night. Better now than waking them up at two in the morning.”
He rubbed his temples, staring past her. She hated the terror her words had put in his eyes. As if he’d just realized that this truly may not end well.
“Maybe they’ve heard from her,” she said quickly. Measuring her words more carefully, she looked him in the eye. “If it was my mom missing I’d want to know. I’d be pretty ticked if I found out she’d been missing for hours before I got a call.”
“But what could they do? They’d just spend the night worrying.”
“They could pray.”
The lift of his brows told her that got to him.
“Okay. I’ll call. But . . . You don’t think they need to come home, do you?” Mitch was a leader, always in control. She’d never heard him sounding so unsure.
“No, not yet.”
His shoulders visibly relaxed. She reached out to reassure him, the way she would have with Jill, but she pulled away before he noticed. “While you call your kids, I’ll start calling hospitals. And maybe check with the hotel again. Maybe someone will remember seeing her or . . . something.”
The Face of the Earth Page 2