I found myself back in my sister’s room, sifting through her picture box. Once again, my eyes zeroed in on the tiny trading pic of Sarah Goins. I wonder where you are.
I flipped the picture over, surprised to find writing on the back. The letters were so small and crooked, I could barely read them.
Thank u 4 b-in my friend.
A memory came crawling back – me, playing in the dirt with Sarah. She was a strange girl, sometimes saying and doing quirky little things in class. The other kids would laugh at her. Sometimes, even the teachers laughed at her expense.
In second grade, she sat right across from me. I could remember her chewing the tip of her glue bottle, gnawing at it like a frenzied dog chewing a bone.
‘Stop that, Sarah,’ I whispered. ‘Stop.’
But she didn’t. Her eyes were glassy as she chomped on the plastic lid. Finally, the rest of the class noticed what she was doing. Even the teacher stopped talking and stared. Laughter rolled through the room like thunder. Louder and louder, everyone laughing at her. Poor Sarah didn’t even notice at first; she was focused so intently on the glue.
‘Leave her alone,’ I muttered.
‘What did you say, Miss Ashburn?’ my teacher boomed.
‘I said leave her alone!’ I screamed. The sheer volume of my own voice scared me that day. Suddenly, Sarah dropped the glue. It hit the floor and bounced. She looked at everyone laughing, like she’d just woke up from some sort of trance, and then she looked over at me and she smiled.
Turning the picture back over, I stared at her face again. She wasn’t smiling in this photo that had probably been taken in fourth grade. By then, I had stopped talking to Sarah Goins. I didn’t make fun of her, I did something worse – I pretended she didn’t exist. I became an ‘innocent’ bystander while she was bullied mercilessly by her peers.
Once again, I remembered that chant: ‘Go in! Go in!’ Boys and girls would say those words, over and over, in their singsongy voices. There was a group of girls leading the chant. The blonde in the middle was Jessica Feeler, I just now realized. I closed my eyes, trying to remember every detail of every single face in the crowd. My sister and Rhonda were among them – they were standing on either side of Jessica, a small horde of girls and boys growing larger and larger behind them. I was standing on the other side of the playground, my lips slowing forming the words, and then I was saying them. I don’t know why, but I was. Sarah ran off, devastated about her torn pictures. She looked at me as she passed by, almost like she was secretly asking: Will you defend me again? But I didn’t.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I didn’t wake up until nearly twelve o’clock in the afternoon. I’d slept on the couch, unable to sleep in my sister’s bed. I was too heartbroken by the kids’ empty beds across the hall from it.
My body was stiff and achy, the way it always got when I slept too long.
I wondered how the kids’ first day of school was going. Madeline was definitely taken against her will; there’s no way she would miss their first day unless she was forced to.
I thought about Ben in his new class, and I remembered, again, the articles on my sister’s computer. Did kids at school pick on him the way kids used to pick on Sarah?
I hope not, I prayed, my heart filling with dread.
Quickly, I got dressed and brushed my teeth, then I called the car rental place to let them know I needed to extend my rental agreement for the Honda Civic. I didn’t know where I was going exactly until I’d reached the bottom of Star Mountain.
Misti said that Starla lived across from the bingo hall. I knew the kids wouldn’t be there; they were still at school. And I was hoping that John was at work today.
If I could catch Starla at home and convince her to let me inside, maybe I could snoop around for signs that my sister had been there, or that John was hiding something.
I stared at the dark bingo hall on my right as I waited to turn left into Starla’s driveway. It hadn’t occurred to me until now – John and his mistress were living across the street from the place where John and Madeline’s wedding reception was held. Somehow, the thought of that disturbed me.
Starla’s house was an old Victorian that had to be at least a hundred years old. When Misti mentioned the location, I knew exactly where she meant because this creepy old house had caught my eye a few times as a child.
But now I could see that the house had been sectioned off into apartments. I parked between a blue Volvo and a purple Prius. At first, I didn’t see the Mercedes, but then I spotted it at the end of the drive, parked beneath the shade of a flowering dogwood tree. Soft white petals covered the hood of the car. Again, I thought of my sister’s wedding – the bright white flowers in her hair, the scattering of pink petals down the makeshift aisle between the doorway and altar of the bingo hall. She had never been as beautiful as she looked that day.
I walked up to the car, casually bending over to peek through the windows. Ben and Shelley’s car seats were still in the back. The car’s interior looked neat and pristine. Maybe because it was recently cleaned? I considered. A few steps away from the door, I noticed a side door to the big old house. It was labeled as S. Foster, which I assumed stood for Starla Foster.
Nervously, I tapped on the door.
I waited a few moments and then I rang the buzzer. It took a few more minutes, but then I clearly heard someone running down stairs…
When Starla opened the door, she was stunned to see me. ‘Hi. Can I help you?’
‘Can we talk for a few minutes?’
‘Listen. I don’t want to argue or answer lengthy questions about why I’m with John. Please,’ she said, uneasily.
‘It’s not about that. I’d like to talk to you about the kids and my sister, if that’s okay.’ For a moment, I thought she would refuse me, but then she stepped aside, letting me in the heavy wooden door.
I was shocked to see three straight sets of stairs leading up to the third floor. ‘Wow. You guys live on the top floor?’
‘Yep. Carrying up groceries is a real bitch,’ she complained. I followed her up the shiny wooden stairs, and then up two more sets of stairs. Starla took them two at a time. I hadn’t noticed how fit she was until I was staring at her backside the whole way up. She was wearing pink yoga pants and a matching yoga top, her hair pulled up in a neat ponytail.
‘How old are you?’ I had to ask, as we approached the top of the stairs. There was no door to their apartment; the top of the stairs just opened up into a huge studio space. It took my breath away.
‘Twenty-one.’ Starla hugged herself with her arms, staring at me expectantly as I reached the top. When I was twenty-one, I was just starting college. It wasn’t that long ago, really. This must have been uncomfortable for her, but who cared how she felt right then! My sister was missing.
The studio was impeccably decorated. Funky, flat couches and chairs sat in the middle of the room. There was a kitchen off to the right, with stainless steel appliances and rows of industrial brick for backsplash.
‘Where did the kids sleep last night?’ I tried not to sound too judgy. But I couldn’t see how they would fit here.
‘Over here,’ Starla pointed to the opposite side of the studio. There were two large partition walls, separating a full-sized bed and a king. I assumed she and John slept in the king.
‘It’s really nice here,’ I said. I was trying to at least act cordial. If I wanted to find out what she knew, I had to wear a friendly face for a while.
‘Thank you. I took the kids to school this morning. Everything went off without a hitch.’
I was shocked to hear that she had taken them, and not John … but, no, I wasn’t. After the way he’d acted yesterday, I wasn’t sure if he just wanted the kids because they were his, or if he really cared about them.
Starla was starting to look more and more uncomfortable, both of us standing at awkward angles in the middle of the living room.
‘Have you ever met my sister?’
&
nbsp; ‘If you’re asking me if I knew he was married, I did. I used to be his secretary. I’ve loved him for a long time, and when I found out he was going to get divorced, that’s when I told him how I felt about him.’
I doubted that whole story was true. Most men only leave when they’ve found a replacement. But I nodded, playing along. After all, this wasn’t Starla’s fault. She wasn’t the one who promised to have and to hold my sister forever…
‘What I meant was – when was the last time you saw her? Has she come here to try to speak with John, or shown up at his work? You said you were the secretary there.’
‘Honestly, I haven’t seen her in over a year. She used to come up to the office sometimes, and she and John would go out for lunch. But they seemed more distant. He called her less and less, and she never called the office for him anymore … but, I don’t work there now. John is a stickler for following rules. Interoffice relationships are forbidden there, so he had me transferred to another branch.’
‘Did that make you mad?’
Starla chuckled. ‘No, quite the opposite, actually. I sort of like the fact that we don’t see each other all day long. It makes it more exciting when we do.’ She was smiling now, her mind somewhere else … in a place I didn’t want to go.
‘So, you haven’t seen Madi at all?’
‘No. John finally moved in a couple weeks ago. Cyndi from the station called here yesterday, just as he was walking through the door. That’s how he found out she was missing. I shouldn’t tell you this, but John did not get along with Madeline’s father. Well, your father too.’ Starla blushed, as though she’d made a mistake by saying that.
‘I didn’t always get along with him either,’ I admitted. This seemed to surprise Starla. ‘Why didn’t they get along – John and my dad?’
Starla shrugged. ‘I have no idea. He called him “difficult”.’ That sounded about right. My father could be grumpy and mean, at times.
‘When he heard Madeline was missing, and that you were in town and with the kids, he got worried. He said he didn’t know you well and didn’t trust you. He said maybe you’re a pain like your dad … anyway, he was worried that maybe you did something to Madeline. So, that’s why he showed up so abruptly to get the kids.’
‘I would never hurt my sister!’
‘I know that. I mean, it’s not like I know you or anything, but I have a sister myself. Sisters don’t hurt each other like that. They might fight sometimes, but I can’t see you, or anyone, wanting to cause harm to their sister. I know Madeline is technically the enemy, the ex … but she always seemed nice to me. I’m sure you’re nice and trustworthy too.’
I was a little taken aback by her kindness. Unlike mine, hers seemed genuine. ‘Well, thank you,’ I said, awkwardly.
So, if what she was saying was true, then John suspected me just as I suspected him. Could there possibly be someone else who wanted to hurt my sister then?
Leaving Starla’s, I wasn’t sure how much information I’d gained. She made John sound innocent, and more than anything, I wanted to believe that. The thought of Ben and Shelley’s dad being a complete psychopath was unbearable. And she’d mentioned John didn’t get along with my dad – was that a source of tension between him and Madi?
Before I left, I asked Starla if it would be okay to come and see the kids in a day or two. Nervously, I waited for her answer. ‘Of course you can,’ she said, finally. I felt relieved, at least temporarily. She walked me all the way back downstairs, all three flights of them, and gave me some sort of weird half-hug on my way out.
‘Oh, wait. Does John own a gun? I was just wondering … because Officer Templeton said that he had a permit for one.’
Starla gave me a conspiratorial smile. ‘Well, let’s just say, he used to. Until he got involved with me. I don’t believe in them, you see. I made him get rid of it.’
‘Get rid of it? How does someone get rid of a gun?’
‘He sold it to the pawn shop owner in Merrimont. He got four hundred bucks for that thing!’
After thanking her again, I sat in the rental car and called Paul. Yesterday he’d given me his personal cell number, so I didn’t have to go through his grumpy secretary anymore.
When he answered, I filled him in on my visit with Starla. I told him about John selling his gun weeks ago to a pawn shop. ‘Can that be verified?’
‘Yep. I’ll go down there today and talk to the owner. Any sort of gun purchase or sale will have a paper trail. If he sold it, I’ll find the proof.’
I hung up and headed home. But as soon as I climbed Star Mountain, my cell phone was ringing again. It was Paul again.
‘Hey,’ I answered.
‘I have some news. I just got off the phone with your sister’s bank. Someone used her bank card this morning at Sam’s.’
‘What?!’ I practically screamed. This is good news, I told myself. This means Madi could very well still be alive and unharmed.
‘So, who used it? Do we think someone robbed her…? If so, where is she?’
‘Well, most of the other officers think she’s just fine. Her husband left her, her parents died … maybe she’s just taking some time to herself, Emily.’
I couldn’t believe he still thought that! I chose to ignore that part of what he said. ‘Do we know what they purchased?’
‘No. Only that they spent less than twenty dollars.’
‘What sort of sense does that make? If the motive was money, wouldn’t they be spending more of it? I don’t know how much money my sister has, but I can promise you it’s not much.’
‘She didn’t have much, according to her bank statements. But I still think it’s more likely that it was her using the card…’ Paul explained.
I groaned. ‘But that still doesn’t explain why her car was abandoned at the top of the bluff, and did you forget the part about the blood on her seat?’
Paul was quiet. For a moment, I thought maybe we got disconnected, or maybe he hung up on purpose. ‘Emily, can I ask you something?’
What else could I say but ‘yes’? ‘Of course you can.’
‘Has your sister ever pretended to be hurt, or played some sort of practical joke?’
‘No!’ But the joke part was a lie. My sister loved playing pranks … but she wouldn’t play one as serious as this. Or would she? Doubt trickled in again as I recalled that trick she played in the kitchen with the kids when I first arrived. And when Madi was a teenager, she loved to jump out and scare me, or tell me something bad had happened to our parents just to record my reaction with her video camera. She might like to play pranks, but she would never drag this out so long … would she?
‘Does she have a reason to hide, or want to get away from something?’
‘I don’t think so,’ I replied, watching a royal blue truck fly past me. The Honda rattled and shook on the side of the mountain. ‘No, not really,’ I reiterated. But again, this wasn’t exactly true. Could she be trying to get back at John by making herself disappear? Could this all be a cry for attention? It was almost too mortifying to say aloud to Paul. I didn’t think Madi would fake her own disappearance, but was it possible? Yes, she was definitely capable of it.
But could there be legitimate reasons to get away … reasons to hide? I thought back to Jessica Feeler’s ominous warning on Facebook. Maybe she was threatening my sister, holding some sort of information over her head…?
As much as I wanted to defend my sister to Paul, I wasn’t altogether sure of my answers. Madi did play pranks, and I knew she had a secret … and with everything going on with John and his new girlfriend, it made sense that she would want to get away from it all, or to get back at him somehow…
‘I’ll call you when I know more,’ Paul said, then he hung up, without even saying goodbye.
I stared at my phone, mulling over his words. I didn’t want to believe that my sister orchestrated her own disappearance, even though I knew it was possible. Jessica’s words came flashing back to me: You’d b
etter keep your fucking mouth shut. Did my sister know something that she wasn’t supposed to?
Even more questions and doubts swirled through my mind.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A sick feeling rose in my stomach as I stared at Jessica’s Facebook message again. I was back at my sister’s desk, chugging a Red Bull, and working up the nerve to make some sort of response.
If Jessica knew what my sister was running from, or if she was somehow involved in her disappearance, I didn’t want to say something that would screw up my chances of learning the truth.
Clicking through Jessica’s pictures, I could remember the girl she used to be. Pretty, blonde, competitive. A ring leader. Definitely what I would call a mean girl. She had this way of changing the air in a room – I could ‘feel’ her in it with me, even if she was standing on the other side of it.
Thinking back, I could recall many eye rolls and annoyed looks coming from her direction when I was around. Rhonda was Jessica and Madeline’s other sidekick in high school. She was a cute redhead, and nicer than Jessica. But she was a follower, a hanger-on, always right on my sister and Jessica’s heels.
Still working up the nerve to write back to Jessica, I searched for Rhonda Sheckles on Facebook. Everyone had a Facebook page these days, right? But my searching only yielded one result – a lady named Rhonda Sheckles who lived in Dallas, Texas. That Rhonda Sheckles looked sixty or seventy years old.
I clicked back on the message again, staring at the strange threat from Jessica. Suddenly three tiny bubbles appeared on the screen. Jessica was typing something right now!
My heart raced as I waited to see what she might say. What were the odds of her writing back to my sister while I was sitting here perched, preparing to write something to her myself?
But then the bubbles disappeared. ‘What the hell?’
I was about to start writing when the bubbles popped up again. And then a message came through from Jessica.
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