“I don’t understand,” Tom said. “Did she stay with a friend?”
“She doesn’t know anyone in town,” Penelope said.
“Where could she be then?” Tom asked.
“I’ll call her,” Caroline said, pulling her phone from her pocket. “Did you check Lucy’s room?”
“Yes, and the attic, too,” her mother said. “Did you see her at all after she stormed out last night?”
“Stormed out?” Tom said.
“No,” Caroline said, avoiding Tom’s question. “Did you?”
“No,” her mother said. “I went to bed around ten.”
“She’s not answering,” Caroline said.
“I don’t understand,” Tom said again. “If she doesn’t know anyone in town, where could she be?”
“I said I don’t know.”
“You said she stormed out of the house,” Tom said. “When did that happen?”
“At dinner. Around six.”
“So Polly’s been gone since six last night?”
Panic formed in the pit of Caroline’s stomach. “God, where could she be?”
“There’s no one she could’ve stayed with?” Tom asked. “No one at all?”
“She knows George and Spartacus,” Penelope said. “She doesn’t know where they live, but she called them yesterday to invite them to dinner, so she might still have their phone numbers. Let me phone them. I have George’s number in my office.” She headed down the hallway toward her office.
“Who are George and Spartacus?” Tom asked.
“I’ll tell you later,” Caroline said. “You should try calling Polly. She was pissed at me when she left yesterday. Maybe she’ll pick up for you.”
Tom pulled his phone from his pocket. “Why was she mad at you?”
“I let her down. It’s part of my long story. Is it ringing?”
“Yes. She’s not picking up.”
“George and Spartacus haven’t seen her since she left last night,” her mother said as she returned to the room, and for the first time, Caroline could hear fear in her mother’s voice, too. It frightened her. She turned to Tom. “What should we do?”
“I’ll call Dino,” her mother said. “He’ll know what to do.”
* * *
Officer Dean “Dino” Dugan was a thick, hairy man who chewed gum like he wanted to make it suffer. He was wearing his uniform when he stepped through the front door. The sudden appearance of his badge and gun somehow made Polly’s disappearance feel real—and much more serious.
“So there’s no custody issues of any kind?” Dugan asked.
“No,” Tom said.
“And the last time you saw your daughter was when she left the house in the middle of dinner?”
“Yes,” Caroline said.
“And she doesn’t have a boyfriend or any friends that you know of in Blackstone? Or anywhere around here. Correct?”
“We’ve only been here for two days,” Caroline said. “She doesn’t even have a boyfriend back in Maryland.”
“Not one that you know of,” Dugan said. “Wasn’t she here last summer?”
“Yes,” Penelope said. “She was. She stayed with me for about a month. That’s right. You met Polly. Didn’t you?”
Dugan nodded. “Yup. Nice girl. I knew I was going to have to put Buster down, so I came here first to make arrangements. Your daughter was a real sweetheart.”
This made Caroline like the man a little bit more. It made him feel less like a badge and a gun and more like a human being.
“More important,” Dugan continued, “it means she could’ve met someone when she was here last summer. A boy, even. I assume you didn’t have her under surveillance twenty-four hours a day, Penny?”
“No. In fact, she had the place to herself for the weekend when I went to the Mohegan Sun with my friend Lisa.”
“So it’s possible that she stayed with a friend, either because that’s what she planned to do all along or because she was so pissed off at you that she didn’t want to come home.”
Caroline had underestimated Officer Dugan.
“So what should we do now?” Tom asked.
“Hold on,” Dugan said. “We’re not done. Has she been out of your sight since you arrived yesterday?”
Caroline thought for a moment. “She walked back here yesterday after we visited Emily.”
“Why?” Tom asked.
“She was pissed at me. Refused to get back in the car. I know. It sounds like all we’ve done is fight, but things were actually going well.”
Dugan shook his head. “If we wanted to, we could probably label every teenager in the world bipolar and lock them up in the psych ward until they’re old enough to vote,” Dugan said. “Might be better for everyone involved. One minute they love you. The next minute they never want to speak to you again.”
Caroline smiled.
“I have two myself. A girl and a boy. Most days they drive me crazy, but I’d run through fire for them if I had to.”
Caroline liked this man.
“So where does this Emily live?” Dugan asked.
“Over by the high school. Emily Kaplan. I mean, Emily Labonte.”
“Oh,” Dugan said, smiling. “Emily and Randy. You visited them yesterday?”
“Yes. And Emily’s daughter, Jane, took Polly to that place across the street from the high school.”
“The Spot,” Dugan said. “So it’s possible that Polly met someone there, too. That place is lousy with kids after school.”
“I guess so,” Caroline said. “I hadn’t even thought of that. But it’s not like Polly to make friends easily.”
“You have a picture of Polly?” Dugan asked.
“Yeah,” Tom said. “Lots of them. On my phone.”
“Good. E-mail a couple of them to me.” Dugan handed Tom a business card. “Send it to that address, and I’ll forward it to the department. There’s only six of us, but Blackstone isn’t that big a place, and we know most everyone. We’ll get the word out. Honestly, though. She’s probably fine. Just a pissed-off kid trying to make you crazy.”
“What should we do?” Tom asked.
“Keep calling her. If she hasn’t come back by six, we’ll meet again. And one of you should go over to the Labontes’ house and see if their daughter knows anything. She’ll be in school right now, and I’d rather not have a cop show up and pull her out of class to ask a few questions. She’s more likely to be candid without me there. At least at first. Besides, I can’t legally talk to her without her parents’ permission. But Emily can go over to the school and get her out of class for a few minutes without starting any rumors. What’s her name again?”
“Jane,” Caroline said.
“If they were at The Spot together and Polly met someone, Jane will know it. And she might’ve told Polly about some of her hangouts, too. Places where she and her friends go. Polly could be holed up in one of those places, too. When I was a kid, my friends and I hung out at Harris Pond or High Rocks, but there must be a hundred places in town where kids hang out. See if Jane mentioned any of them to Polly. If you feel like Jane is holding back on you, I can question her after school if Emily gives me consent.”
“Anything else?” Tom asked.
“Try not to worry,” Dugan said. “Ninety-nine percent of the time, a kid disappears for a day or two to blow off steam. But eventually they get hungry or cold and come home with their tail between their legs. Your daughter’s a smart cookie. Treated me real nice when I was going through a rough patch. I’m sure she’s just being her stupid teenage self right now. They can’t help it.”
“What about the other one percent?” Tom asked.
“We don’t have those in Blackstone,” Dugan said.
Officer Dugan shook Tom and Caroline’s hands, gave Penelope a bear hug, and left, promising to call back as soon as he heard anything.
As soon as the door closed, Tom said, “I’m going to try Polly from the house phone. Maybe she’ll pick up i
f she thinks it’s her grandmother.”
“I doubt it,” Penelope said. Then she turned to Caroline. “Looks like you’re going to have to make nice with your old friend after all.”
twenty-two
Emily was dressed impeccably in a cashmere sweater, silk scarf, jeans, and leopard-print ballet flats. Even her hair was done up in a perfect French twist. Had Caroline ever answered the door looking this good?
Emily’s smile evaporated upon seeing Caroline. “Seriously?” she said, taking two steps back into the house. “Aren’t we finished already?’
“I’m sorry to bother you—”
“Sorry to bother me?” Emily interjected. “You had no problem ambushing me in front of a bunch of strangers last night. You call this a bother?”
“I didn’t know it was happening last night,” Caroline said. “Polly planned the whole thing. I was just as surprised as you.”
“You’re blaming your daughter now?”
“She’s missing,” Caroline said, hoping to detour the argument. “Polly never came home last night.”
Emily blinked. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Then just as quickly, she seemed to steel herself once again. “But she’s not here.”
“No, I didn’t think she would be. But the police suggested that I speak to Jane. She might know something.”
“Why would Jane know anything?”
“Polly could’ve met someone at The Spot yesterday. Or maybe Jane mentioned some place in Blackstone that the kids like to go. Polly doesn’t know Blackstone all that well, so unless she slept on the street last night, she had to hook up with someone at some point or be given an idea about a good place to hang out. I’m hoping Jane knows something.”
“Jane isn’t home,” Emily said.
“I know. The police suggested … well, I was wondering if you would pull her from class for a few minutes so I could talk to her. They—the police, that is—said it would be better than sending a cop over to the school to question her.”
“Not to mention that would be illegal,” Emily said, any empathy now completely gone from her voice.
“I don’t know what’s legal and what’s not,” Caroline said. “I just want to find Polly.”
Emily folded her arms over her chest.
Caroline took a step forward. “Look, I know what happened last night wasn’t good. I’m sorry. I honestly didn’t know it was happening until all hell broke loose.”
“But isn’t that why you came to Blackstone? To confront me?”
“Yes,” Caroline admitted. “But once I actually saw you … after we talked … well, I decided to forget the whole thing. It was a stupid idea. But I made the mistake of telling Polly about it, and she refused to let it go.”
“It was a lousy thing to do, you know.”
So was that cafeteria bullshit, Caroline thought but knew better than to say at this moment. “I know it was. But Polly’s missing and I need your help. Please.”
“Fine,” Emily said stepping back from the door. “Come in.”
“But if you don’t mind,” she said, “we really can’t wait for Jane to come home. The police said we should pull her from class.”
“I understand,” Emily said. “Just hold on a minute.” She disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Caroline in the foyer.
Caroline waited a moment before deciding to follow.
“I know this is awkward,” she called as she entered the kitchen. Emily was standing by an open drawer at the far counter, shuffling papers. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”
Emily put the papers on the countertop and turned. “That’s a shame, then. Had you handled things differently, we might be friends again.”
“Had I handled things differently? I wasn’t the one who stopped being your friend.”
“Jesus Christ, Caroline!” Emily said. “Can’t you let it go? We were kids. It was one fight. One stupid fight a million years ago. And you were being just as bitchy as I was that day.”
“One fight?” Caroline said. “You never spoke to me again. You barely even looked at me again after that day. Even after what happened to Lucy, you never said a word to me.”
Old bullets. It felt good to fire them. “This is ridiculous,” Emily said. “All I wanted to do is to let the new girl sit with us for one day, and you acted like I started World War III.”
“That was not just any new girl,” Caroline said. “That was Ellie fucking Randolph.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I didn’t see you inviting Amy Silver to the lunch table,” Caroline said. “You never gave her the time of day.”
“Amy Silver?”
“Yeah, the girl from Wisconsin with no chest and bangs.”
“Oh, God,” Emily said, managing a smile. “I’d forgotten about her.”
“Forgot about her? You never even knew her. I only remember Amy because when you stopped being my friend, I stopped going to lunch, and I’d see her in the library sometimes. Skipping lunch like me.”
“I didn’t make you skip lunch.”
“I had six friends in the world, Emily. Six. And you were my best friend. You abandoned me and took every single one of them with you.”
Emily sighed. “I just wanted a little space. I didn’t think that one lunch period was going to end everything.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Caroline said, pointing her finger across the granite countertop at Emily. “That wasn’t one lunch. You dumped me. And you took Molly and Briana and the rest of them with you. Right when I needed you the most.”
“Enough,” Emily said, turning back to the papers on the countertop. “I don’t want to argue about ancient history. Okay? Let’s just go talk to Jane and get this over with.”
“No, it’s not enough. It sucked, Emily. High school was hell for me because of that day.”
“Jesus Christ, Caroline. You could’ve made some new friends. You act like it was me or nothing.”
Caroline didn’t speak. She was afraid that if she did, she might crack.
Emily turned. “What?”
Caroline steeled herself, tightening her lips and lowering her voice. “It was you or nothing.”
“Caroline, we were friends because we lived next door to each other when we were little kids. But it’s not like we had much in common. You didn’t care about the same things I cared about. We were just different people, and we drifted apart. It happens. It’s not a crime.”
Caroline opened her mouth, ready to end this. You’re right, she would say. Just agree so they could go find Polly. But it was the thought of Polly that changed her mind. “No,” she said, anger returning to her voice. “I’m sorry, but what happened in that cafeteria isn’t called drifting apart. That was something else.”
“Do you think I’m happy about what happened that day?” Emily said.
“Do you even remember what happened that day?”
“Of course I do! Jesus Christ, Caroline. You were my best friend since I was five. What kind of fucking monster do you think I am?”
“When you saw me yesterday, you acted like nothing had happened. Nothing at all.”
“I was happy to see you. What’d you expect?”
“Let’s just get. Okay?” Caroline said. She didn’t want to argue anymore. “Polly’s been gone since dinner last night and I’m worried.”
“Fine. I came in here to check Jane’s schedule. See what class she’s in now.”
“You have her class schedule?” Caroline wasn’t even sure about what classes Polly was taking.
“Of course I do,” she said, shuffling through the papers in front of her. “Hold on.” A second later, she shook her head and laughed.
“What?”
“Guess where she is right now?”
twenty-three
So much had happened. And so little had changed.
It had been more than two decades since Caroline had attended Blackstone-Millville Regional High School. Oka
y, everything seemed a little smaller and a little dingier than she remembered, but other than that, everything was the same. Same color schemes. Same fluorescent lighting. Same industrial smell. The brick appeared a little less red. The sidewalk appeared a little more cracked, but so much just seemed frozen in time. Even the trees in the courtyard: short, thin, frail-looking things, were exactly the same as she remembered.
“They must be so depressed by all the gray concrete that they don’t grow,” Caroline said.
“What?” Emily asked.
“Never mind.”
Four women sat behind the counter inside the school’s office. Each stood and greeted Emily by name. Each inquired about Jane, Jack, and Randy.
“We need to chat with Jane for a couple minutes, if that’s okay,” Emily said, directing her comment to the woman closest to the counter.
“Sure. Let me just see where she is,” the woman said.
“No need,” Emily said, waving the woman off. “She’s at lunch. I checked before we drove over.”
“Oh, okay then. You know where that is.”
“Yes, we do,” Emily said. “Oh, I’m sorry. This is Caroline Jacobs. She a BMR alum, too.”
“Is Jacobs your maiden name?” one of the older women near the back of the office asked.
“No. I was Caroline Waters when I went here.”
At the mention of Caroline’s maiden name, the woman’s face changed. Her eyes widened ever so slightly. Her head tilted to the side. Her lips grew thin. Caroline knew this look well. It was the You’re the sister of the dead girl look. “Caroline Waters,” the woman said. “I remember you.”
“That was a long time ago. You have a good memory.”
The woman smiled. “You sit here long enough, you get a brain for names and faces.”
“I’m sure,” Caroline said.
After signing in and placing a visitor sticker on her shirt (Emily stuck hers on the thigh of her jeans, which felt like the cool thing to do), they made their way to the cafeteria on the other side of the school.
They took the stairs to the first floor and crossed through the lobby where the school’s glass trophy case was positioned between the doors to the auditorium. Caroline stopped to look. Trophies and plaques with names of people she once knew were still standing among dozens of others, somehow collecting dust in the sealed glass case. The marching band’s NESBA championship in 1986. The plaque commemorating the cross-country team’s national record for most consecutive victories. A photo of the school’s only Division C championship basketball team, led by team captain and point guard Randy Labonte.