“She bothers you lately because she’s hooking up with Matt. I thought you were ‘so over’ him,” Jessica said, making air quotes.
“I am. But Megan McDonald? Really? I mean, after me, he gets with her? He’ll need a crowbar to get in her pants, so what’s the point?”
“You’re disgusting,” Jessica said.
Nicole unhooked her bikini top and lay bare-chested on the lounge chair, closing her eyes and absorbing the sun. “Tell me when your brother comes back with his perv friend. I don’t need them drooling when they see me topless.”
Jessica and Rachel looked at each other with quizzical stares and suppressed smiles as they watched their friend lay half naked by the pool. They had both discussed Nicole’s transformation this summer. They defined it as rebellion before heading off to college. A severing of ties, perhaps, to make the process of leaving her family and friends easier.
“Megan’s off to Duke next year,” Jessica finally said. “And I’m sure she’ll be in Ethiopia or somewhere next summer saving sick kids, so you won’t have to worry about her for long.”
With closed eyes, Nicole raised her hand in a thumbs-up gesture. “You know what? I am going to Matt’s this weekend. Think I’ll start a little summer fling with him. See what the little prude does when she sees her boyfriend all over me.”
The rev of Jet Skis filled the summer air and Rachel looked down at the bay. “My brother and his friend are back.”
Nicole kept her eyes closed as she lay on the patio chair, her breasts glistening with tanning oil and perspiration. She didn’t move. “Let ’em drool.”
CHAPTER 6
July 2016
Four Weeks Before the Abduction
The night before Matt Wellington’s party, Jessica and Rachel got together to sit by Rachel’s pool. Nicole told them she couldn’t make it, marking the first time all summer the three hadn’t spent Friday on the bay. Nicole used as an excuse her visiting aunt and the ensuing dinner her parents required her to attend. Had she thrown a fit, the way she typically did when forced into something as stupid as dinner with her aunt on a Friday night, she might have wiggled out of it. But the truth was, Rachel’s house and the pool and the bay and spending the summer on the water flirting with high school guys she had no interest in just didn’t do it for her anymore. Those times felt like they had passed her by. The summers on the bay were in the past, and the magical moments that seemed to come every day when they were younger came less often now, until the whole scene became pointless and boring.
Nicole got home from dinner around ten p.m. She promptly locked her bedroom door and logged on to her computer. She was supposed to talk with him tonight, and it caused her to ache with anticipation.
A few minutes into her solitude there was a knock on her door.
“What?”
“Are you going to say good night to Aunt Paxie?” Nicole’s mother asked.
“Good night, Aunt Paxie!” she shouted from her desk.
“Good night, Nicole.”
Nicole listened to her mother and aunt shuffle away from her closed bedroom door. She’d seen, earlier in the evening, her mother shake her head at the restaurant when Aunt Paxie asked about Nicole’s black hair and black eyeliner and black lipstick. “Just ignore it,” she heard her mother say under her breath.
That’s all her mother and aunt ever did, ignore things. What else could explain Aunt Paxie’s presence in North Carolina for the past three days without mentioning Julie? Ignore anything long enough, and it will go away. It was her mother’s unspoken motto.
When Nicole heard no more whispers outside her door, she pecked at her keyboard and found the chat room where they normally talked. Sometimes they moved around, at his urging, to different spots online, as if someone were stalking them and spying on their conversations.
Hey. You around? she typed.
It took a few minutes, but then the response came.
Nikki C! Where you been?
Trying to find you. You’ve been hiding from me.
Ha! LOL. You’re the mysterious one. So what’s going on, sweet thing?
Not once had Nicole heard his voice, but still she loved when he called her that. No boy at Emerson Bay High would have the courage to talk to her that way. Most could barely hold eye contact, let alone engage in a full conversation. Flattering her with a nickname was something out of the realm of high school banter, which was why Nicole had no FOMO about anything happening tonight on Emerson Bay. This was the only place she wanted to be, and the only person she wanted to talk with. She typed.
Been busy with my friends, but they’re getting SO boring lately. Do I sound like a bitch?
A hot one. I saw the picture you posted. You’ve got a great body, and your face is gorgeous.
Thanks. When can I see you?
I’m way too shy to post a pic.
How about we meet, then?
Much better idea. Your aunt still visiting?
Yeah. Leaves tomorrow. Had to do the whole dinner thing. So over her being here.
She’s the one whose kid got snatched?
Their conversations always ended up here. This was a big topic for them and they talked—or typed—for hours about it. He was the only one in Nicole’s life who was willing to engage her about the subject. Aunt Paxie had been here since Tuesday, and hadn’t once mentioned her daughter. Fine, Nicole reasoned, it was eight years ago. Fine, it still depressed her. Paxie didn’t want to turn the visit—her first since Julie went missing all those years ago—into a sobfest. All understandable. But Aunt Paxie hadn’t even mentioned Julie. Not once. Ignore, ignore, ignore, and the problem will go away.
Nicole finally typed. Yeah.
What was her name?
Julie.
Your cousin?
Yeah.
You guys were close?
We used to visit each other when we were kids. Mostly it was just our moms getting together, but Julie and I always considered them our trips. I remember riding on the airplane next to my mom and just feeling so excited to see her. Then, with our mothers preoccupied, catching up as long-lost sisters who only saw each other twice a year, Julie and I would stay up until midnight, chase fireflies, and sit around the bonfire while our moms got drunk on wine and relived their childhoods.
Nicole watched the screen after typing so much of her heart and her childhood onto the page. Finally, the reply came.
Sounds fun.
It was.
How old was she?
When she disappeared? Nine.
Tell me about it.
God it felt good to finally talk to someone about this.
Don’t really know a lot ’cause my mom never gave me any details. Guess she thought I was too young. I’ve looked for stories about her on the Internet, but there’s not much. They never had any leads. Julie just disappeared one day walking home from school.
Common route.
Nicole looked at the screen for a moment before replying. What’s that?
Perps use common routes to take kids because they’re predictable. Whoever took Julie knew she would be walking that exact route on that exact day. Guy probably watched her for a long time while he plotted the take.