Olivia’s phone rings. The number is one she doesn’t recognize. She drops the dish towel and grabs her phone.
“Hello?” she answers, hopeful it’s someone with news about Lily.
“Olivia Carson?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Gayle Pierson, Jenna Mason’s publicist.” Olivia clutches her phone. Excitement uncurls. Gayle knows how to reach Lily. She might have news. “She’s missing, you say?”
“Yes, for almost a week.”
“That would explain why her voice mail is full. I just tried reaching her.”
“Have you texted her?”
“This morning, yes, after I read your emails. I haven’t heard back.”
“Is that unusual for her?” Olivia paces the kitchen as they talk, desperate for news, her emotions in a tangle.
“To not reply right away?”
“That and her voice mail. Does it always get full?”
“My clients can go days without responding when they’re on deadline. So, no. It wouldn’t have alarmed me if I didn’t know she was missing.”
“Did she mention anything about leaving town or where she’d go if she wanted to get away? Any indication she was in danger?” Olivia asks.
“No. We haven’t talked in over a week. But if she did tell me anything, I wouldn’t be able to disclose it to you.” Her tone takes on a professional edge.
“This might sound strange, but I don’t have my sister’s cell. I’m not sure what she’s told you about our family, but I haven’t seen her in years. Her son is with me and we need to find her. Can I get her number?”
“Dear, I wish I could pass it along. But I’m contractually prohibited from sharing anything personal about Jenna, including her contact information, unless I have her permission.”
A surge of frustration froths below her surface. “Even if it’s an emergency?” she asks, refusing to lose any more hope.
“Even in emergencies.”
“Her son is a minor. They got separated,” she argues. “That seems like an odd clause to include.”
“Not really. I have some high-profile clients who value their privacy, no matter the circumstances.” She pauses. “Tell you what, I’ll continue trying to reach her. When I do, I’ll pass along your number.”
“Please,” Olivia begs. “Tell her Josh is with me, and that he’s safe.”
“I will. If there’s anything else I can do to help, let me know.”
“Actually, there is,” Olivia says. “Have you met Jenna in person?”
“Not sure where you’re going with this, but yes.”
“Can you describe her for me?”
“Dear, that contract I mentioned—”
“Okay, okay. But this is life or death, Gayle,” she rushes to say before the publicist hangs up. “Would you say she’s five foot four, lean frame, auburn hair, brown eyes, and has a mole on her right jaw?” She doubts Gayle knows about the constellation of moles on the back of her right shoulder.
Gayle heaves a sigh. “I wouldn’t deny it. Although . . . shit. Her hair is more red than auburn. She dyed it for Josh.”
A rush of gratitude pours into her. “I can’t thank you enough.”
Five minutes later, Olivia has Officer Curbelo on the line.
“How can I help you, Ms. Carson?”
“I’d like to report my sister as missing.”
“Name, please.”
“Jenna Mason.”
CHAPTER 32
Olivia walks across her parents’ deck. The wind coming off the bay stings her cheeks, and the water is choppy. She can hear waves hit their dock. The eucalyptus trees rustle, the leaves sounding like rain. There isn’t a cloud in sight.
Charlotte sits alone, bundled in a thick floral blanket Olivia recognizes as the throw from the end of Lily’s bed. It’s been years since she’s seen it, and it’s strange seeing it wrapped around her mother.
Olivia grabs a chair as she passes the patio table and sits beside Charlotte, checking her phone once more. Nothing yet from Lucas. She hasn’t been able to reach Dwight either and she’s been trying them both since early this morning. She wants answers. What happened to Lily? Where is she? What did he do to her? But Dwight’s car isn’t in the drive. Neither is Lucas’s truck. Both should have been home by now.
“I was wondering when you’d come by.”
There’s a catch in Charlotte’s voice. Olivia studies her mom. Her cheeks are a deep red from the cold, blotchy from the wind. She pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders.
Olivia shivers. She should have worn a thicker sweater. She didn’t expect her mom to be sitting outside. The wind always kept Charlotte in the house. But her mom didn’t answer the door when Olivia rang, so she thought to check the back, worried something might be wrong, only to find her here.
“Where’s Dad? I thought he’d be home by now.”
“He’s not coming home.” Olivia breathes through the panic pinching inside her rib cage.
“Did he decide to stay longer?” He’d told her two days. That put his arrival as yesterday. What’s the holdup? Did the conference go on for another day? Did he decide to visit a client?
Charlotte crumples a soiled tissue. She dabs the inner corner of her eye. Olivia leans forward to get a better look at her mom. The thin skin underneath her eyes glistens.
“Are you crying?”
Charlotte tsks. “For Pete’s sake, Olivia, must you point it out?” She quickly dries her face with trembling fingers. Concerned, Olivia reaches for her hand. Charlotte recoils. “Why are you here? Is it because of Josh?”
“Yes. But—” She stalls as a thought occurs and she rests a hand on Charlotte’s lap. “Is Dad with someone?” Have her mom’s suspicions been right all along? Did Dwight stay because he’s having an affair?
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Charlotte tears at the tissue, keeping her fingers busy.
“Is he with Lily?”
Charlotte’s breath flutters like bird wings. She shakes her head.
Olivia presses on. “I found Lily’s house in Oceanside. She wasn’t there. I spoke with a neighbor. Lily changed her name to Jenna. Jenna Mason. I think it’s pretty.”
Charlotte doesn’t react. She doesn’t even blink.
“Why do I get the feeling you knew that already?” Olivia whispers. “You knew Dad visited her, didn’t you?”
Charlotte plays with her fingers. She tugs at a cuticle. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Mom—”
Charlotte throws off the blanket, standing abruptly. “I’m going to open a bottle of wine. Do you want some?” She traverses the deck.
Olivia slowly stands, gawking at her mother.
“Get the glasses, will you?” Charlotte retreats into the house.
Olivia rubs her temples, feeling the early signs of a tension headache, and follows her mom into the house. Instead of retrieving the glasses, she trails her to the cellar, fed up with Charlotte’s deliberate avoidance.
Why can’t she talk about Lily? Is she scared? Did Dwight threaten her? Does she really not know anything? Highly doubtful.