Because it was early March, dusk had already begun to settle, allowing the twinkling lights to masquerade as stars against the purpling sky while the glow from the firepit and the portable heaters warmed the night.
I felt the side of my face heat, and I knew Jack was watching me. I turned my head, spotting him immediately in the crowd like a compass finding true north. He smiled, then pointed to his wrist, and I knew he was thinking about the party being over, and then it would be morning, when it would be time for us to talk. I felt almost dizzy with the rush of opposing thoughts that flooded through me, and I was unable to fully comprehend any of them. I gave him a brief smile and looked away, eager to open my laptop and to confront the easy and familiar.
The hubbub of conversation had begun to die down when I felt a sharp tap on my shoulder. I didn’t turn around, assuming it was Louisa or another otherworldly guest and not wanting anyone to notice me speaking to an empty space. The entire shower had already made most of our guests question my sanity, and I didn’t want to confirm their doubts.
“Melanie?” This time the tap was accompanied by a familiar voice.
My head whipped around. “Beau? What are you doing here?” He was dressed in khakis and a collared golf shirt; instead of his usual sneakers, he wore loafers.
He saw me looking and said, “Sorry—I’m not crashing the party; I just wanted to check to see if Nola made it home.”
Tiny alarm bells began jangling in the back of my head. “What do you mean? She’s at the movies with Lindsey and Alston.”
“She wasn’t when I saw her about an hour ago. She was at the Mardi Gras party at the Bay Street Biergarten.”
I stood, barely catching my laptop before it slid to the ground. “She what? Were her friends with her?”
“No, ma’am. Alston bailed and called her brother, Cooper, to come get her, and Lindsey went with them. Cooper said he was driving them back to the Ravenels’ so he could keep an eye on them until their parents got back. Lindsey begged him not to call her mom or dad because they would be extra mad if they had to leave a party, and he agreed to wait.”
“But what about Nola? Why didn’t she go with them?”
“She refused. I told Cooper I’d keep a close eye on her and make sure she got home safely. She, uh, she’d been drinking pretty heavily. She was drinking from a can of Coke, so I didn’t think anything of it. But it must have been mostly rum.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“I did. And Jack, too, but nobody answered. I texted and left messages. I figured you didn’t have your phones on, so I decided to drive here. Nola told me she wanted to go to Lindsey’s house to pick up her guitar and then meet up with her friends at Alston’s, but I told her I was going to bring her home because she was too wasted.” He swallowed. “That might have been the wrong thing to say. She said she needed to use the ladies’ room first. I think she must have bolted and taken an Uber, because no one saw her after that.”
My mother had approached and I thrust the laptop at her, grateful she was wearing evening gloves. “Can you please take care of this for me? I have a little issue I need to deal with right now.”
“Of course. Anything I can do?”
“Yes, please. If you could just take over the party for a bit, that would be great. And call me if you see Nola.”
She looked at me with a worried expression, and I knew we were both thinking of my grandmother’s phone call. “It’ll be all right, Mother. It will.” I had no idea if that was true, but I had to say it so that I could believe it.
I began walking away, Beau following. I heard my mother soothe Rebecca’s protests as Jack approached, his gaze worried.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nola’s missing,” I said quietly, and began walking around the house to the front piazza, aware that Marc was watching us closely. Beau repeated what he’d already told me as we entered the foyer.
“Okay. Has anyone tried her cell phone?” Jack asked, pulling his own out of his pocket and flicking the switch on the side to turn it off silent mode.
“Yes, sir,” Beau said. “Multiple times. She’s not picking up.”
“And no texts from her on my phone.” Jack pressed his screen, then held his phone to his ear.
I could hear a ringing sound while he waited, our gazes meeting. Eventually we heard Nola’s voice in her recorded message before Jack clicked off.
“Let me check my phone—hang on.” I ran to Jack’s office, where I’d left my phone plugged in and charging, not thinking I’d need it. I opened the screen as I raced back to the foyer.
“I have a text from Nola,” I announced, then read it out loud.
We got another ride to theater and back. Lindsey already texted her dad to stay and enjoy party. Have fun and see you tomorrow.
I looked up. “Something’s not right.”
“What is it?” Jack asked.
“Well, according to the time stamp, Nola sent the text almost two hours ago. Assuming Lindsey’s text was sent to her father at the same time, Michael knew the girls wouldn’t be waiting for him when he told Veronica and me that he was going to pick them up.”
We looked at each other, somehow managing to suppress the growing panic.
“I’ll drive,” Beau said as if reading our minds. “My truck’s in the driveway behind the caterer’s.”
“I’m right behind you. I just need to grab my coat.”
I ran toward the back hall closet, coming to a skidding stop when I spotted the red pillow on the floor in front of the closet door, neatly stabbed in the middle by a carving knife I’d last seen in the breakfront drawer in the dining room with the rest of the sterling silverware. I picked up the pillow to move it out of the way, and the knife fell, barely missing my foot, and exposing a two-inch gash in the red felt, revealing white stuffing. And something else, which reflected the overhead light.