Mike laughed even more and asked Syd to find the clip on YouTube so he could watch it. Jared started eating, started feeling a little more normal. Maybe Tabitha was just sick. Maybe she needed a mental health day. His mom let him have those on occasion. He didn’t have to be sick and she’d let him stay home and mellow out in his room, so long as he promised to keep up with the work, which he always did.
“I swear,” Mike said, “your mom is so freaking cool. She makes my parents looks like the mom and dad on All in the Family.”
Jared remembered the dustup with his mom the night before, all of which came about because he’d tried to open up to her and then changed course in midstream. He never liked losing his cool with her. He understood the pressures she felt, and she’d already opened up to him about the shitty day she’d had. But he wished she’d just learn to read the signals, to know when to back off and let him be. She didn’t have to have the answer to everything all the time. Over breakfast that morning, they both behaved normally. Neither one mentioned the disagreement. They did that sometimes—let things go. He wished he could do that with Tabitha, just turn the page and go back to the way things were almost twenty-four hours earlier.
“Let me ask you guys something,” Jared said once the laughing and the jokes about his mom’s f-bomb settled down. “You know how Tabitha doesn’t really text and she has the strict curfew and all that, right?”
“Practically Amish,” Mike said.
“Exactly.” For a moment, Jared wondered if that was it. Were Tabitha and her father part of some Amish splinter sect? Was the strictness and lack of communication and even the kissing just a cultural or religious custom? “Have you ever Googled her?”
“Googled Tabitha?” Syd asked.
“Yes.”
“Why would I Google someone?” Mike asked.
Syd looked at him. “You don’t Google people? I Google a lot of people. Teachers, students. Not Tabitha, though. I looked for her on Twitter and Facebook once.”
“I don’t Google regular people,” Mike said. “Not kids I know. Not that I really know Tabitha.”
“Well, I have Googled her,” Jared said. “I know the town she came from in Florida and her middle name. I figure maybe there’d be something. You know, honor roll. Soccer team. School project.”
“Graduation lists,” Syd said. “They always print lists of graduates in every town, so when she finished junior high they might list her.”
“You think about this too much,” Mike said, looking at Syd from the corner of his eye.
“He’s right, Mike. There’s nothing. There are other Tabitha Burkes in the country. The name isn’t that unusual. But nothing about her. No social media, no school or sports stuff.”
Syd pulled his phone out and started typing with his thumbs. While he did that, Mike looked at Jared and said, “Maybe she didn’t do any activities. She seems pretty much like a recluse, don’t you agree? I guess she gets out with you a little. She doesn’t have any girlfriends.” He leaned forward, his hands folded on the tabletop. “To be honest, the other girls think she’s a little standoffish. You know? She’s pretty and all that, but she’s quiet. Maybe even aloof. She probably was like that at her old school.”
“You’re right,” Syd said. “Nothing comes up. What’s her dad’s name? Maybe he shows up, and then you can at least know she didn’t just materialize out of thin air.”
Jared didn’t even know where her dad worked.
He was starting to realize how little he did know.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jenna vowed she’d have a better day.
Driving to work, she recited a list of all the things she intended to leave behind: the scene at the barn, the cursing on TV, the disagreement with Jared. And something else, some other lingering unpleasantness. Yes, the prank phone call. It all belonged to yesterday.
She scanned through the stations, checking for news. The man and the earring were mentioned on a local station, but they didn’t seem to know anything else. She’d called Detective Poole once before leaving the house and hung up when it went to voice mail again.
A great song came on the radio. “These Are Days” by 10,000 Maniacs. Yes, she needed to hear that. The sun was bright, the temperature slightly warmer. Soon it would be spring and then summer. Things had to get better, didn’t they?
Times like this, when she needed a pick-me-up, she didn’t pray or meditate. She talked to Celia. Sometimes she heard the conversations in her head, but sometimes, usually when she was alone in the house or the car, she’d say things out loud and wish she could once again hear Celia’s voice or her laugh.
“You would have liked the show I put on last night,” Jenna said.
She made sure to stop talking before she reached a traffic light. She didn’t want the people next to her—and in a town like Hawks Mill, it very well could be someone she knew—thinking she had totally lost her mind. But as she accelerated down the road, the music playing in the background, she told Celia all about the interview with Becky and the bleeped f-bomb on CNN.