“Pretty much as soon as you left this morning. I was busy with the babies, so I didn’t get involved—Jack said he’d handle it.”
I glanced in the rearview mirror to see Jack standing with arms folded while listening to something Marc was shouting at him. I saw him wipe his face before I turned off the street, heading toward East Bay.
“Did he seem worried at all?”
“Nope. Should he be?”
I hesitated a moment before nodding. Jack and I had shared very little about our unorthodox agreement with Marc and Harvey, not wanting friends and family to see us as pathetic as we knew ourselves to be.
“Yes,” I said. “If the filming has to be stopped, the party responsible will be held in breach of contract with pretty severe ramifications.”
“And what else? There’s something you’re not telling me.”
“Why would you say that?”
Jayne sighed heavily, and I imagined she probably rolled her eyes, too. “Because I’m your sister and, just like Mother, I know when something’s up with you. I feel it here.” I glanced over at her in the passenger seat, where she had placed her fingers on a spot on her neck. “You know the spot that burns when you have something too sweet?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything too sweet, so no.”
She sighed again. “Yeah, well, something’s up. Does this have anything to do with our meeting with Suzy Dorf in the ladies’ room at the Grocery?”
I focused my attention on avoiding jaywalking pedestrians as I turned left on East Bay. It had rained heavily the night before, leaving deep puddles on the road, but at least the road was passable, which wasn’t always the case. The veritable bouquets of flowers in pots and window boxes and the almost excessive drapes of wisteria vines that dressed the Holy City during springtime almost made up for the frequent flooding.
“I’m dreading the first spring flood, aren’t you? That reminds me—my rain boots have holes in them and I need a new pair.”
“Melanie.” My name came with an implied warning.
“Hmm?” I remained focused on the road in front of me.
“Fine. You don’t have to tell me everything.” She squeezed my hand where it rested on the steering wheel. “Just remember—we’re stronger together.”
I nodded. “I remember.”
“Just stay away from cemeteries, all right? I don’t think I can go through that again.”
I slid her a glance, wondering if she’d been speaking to our mother. I pulled my car into the parking lot in front of the squat pink building that housed Martha Lou’s Kitchen, my mouth already watering. I spotted Thomas’s and Veronica’s cars, which let us know they were already there and hopefully had a table, since a line had begun forming at the door.
“Are you okay?” I asked Jayne, indicating Thomas’s car.
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
I raised my eyebrows, then stepped to the back of the line. We placed our orders, then joined Veronica and Thomas at a four top. They were already sipping their sweet teas, their white foam plates waiting next to plastic forks and paper napkins.
Thomas dutifully stood and pulled out our chairs while Jayne smiled her thanks and said, “You have tea. It’s sweet.”
“Yes, it is,” Thomas said as he sat, his long legs tucking awkwardly beneath the small table.
After greeting everyone and a little bit of chitchat—mostly to warm up Jayne—we all dug into our meals, knowing that once we got started it would be hard to pull our attention away from the delicious baked macaroni and okra soup.
When we’d started to slow down, Thomas pulled out his notepad from his jacket pocket. “So, are you ready for a few updates?”
I wasn’t, because I was considering going back for seconds, but instead I nodded and took a sip of my sweet tea. We all sat forward, watching as Thomas flipped through the pages before pausing at one.
“I visited Lauren’s parents in Florida to interview them in person. They were happy to see me and still very eager to find their daughter.”
“She’s been missing as long as Adrienne has been gone,” Veronica said. “I imagine we’re both feeling the same sort of loss.”
Jayne placed her arm around Adrienne and squeezed.
“It was pretty heartbreaking,” Thomas continued. “Lauren was their only child. They kept her bedroom exactly the same as when she last left it, like they were waiting for her to return at any moment.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stack of photographs and placed them on the table. “I took these while I was there.”
Jayne studied one of the photos, her eyes narrowing as if she was trying to see more detail. “Are all of those trophies for sailing?”
Thomas nodded. “Lauren’s mother said that her daughter seemed to love sailing from the moment she was born. And that Lauren was always happiest when on a sailboat.”
Jayne pointed to something in the photograph and turned it to show Thomas. “This large one—it looks like the trophy in the yearbook photograph. Is it?”
“Good eye,” Thomas said, making Jayne flush a deep red. “I thought the same thing.”
He pulled out his phone and slid his finger across the screen a few times before turning it around for all of us to see. Veronica handed me a pair of reading glasses.
Thomas continued. “I took a photo of a page of the yearbook so I wouldn’t have to bring the whole thing with me. This is the team photo with the national championship trophy. It’s similar to the one in Lauren’s room, but it’s not the same one. I know because I checked. The actual trophy is supposed to be with all of the other sports trophies at the college in a locked display case.”
“But it’s not,” Veronica said softly.
We all turned to her.