Joyce grimaced and sputtered.
“Most definitely not! I’ll always take a good gossip over Dick Van Dyke. And to be frank, since they changed the show, I’m not impressed.” Joyce waved dismissively toward the blaring television set. “Iced tea?” Joyce asked. “Or something a little stiffer?”
Liz glanced at the street through Joyce’s living room window. The design of their houses was nearly identical. They’d chosen paint colors and furniture together. Sometimes it unnerved her how similar their homes were. It had a twilight-zone effect on days like today when Liz was especially ungrounded, drifty.
“Liz? What’s wrong?” Joyce asked, frowning. “You looked… terribly sad just now.”
Liz brushed a hand through her short, curly hair. It trembled.
“Did you see Susie today?”
Joyce shook her head, and then nodded.
“This morning. She was out roller skating. I can’t tell you what time that was. The boys were complaining they were hungry, which you’d think would mean lunch time, but the boys say they’re hungry twenty times a day, at least. I think it was around one.”
Liz nodded, took the vodka tonic Joyce had made and sipped it.
“Her skates were by the door, so she made it home after skating, but…” Liz shrugged and offered an exasperated smile. “I’m being paranoid, right? She’ll laugh at me when she realizes…” But Liz trailed off. The sinking feeling had returned, like a heavy dark fog descending over her, tugging her smile down.
“I’ve never known you to be paranoid,” Joyce answered. She walked to the living room.
“Ron, did you see Susan today?”
Ron ignored his wife until she barked the question a second time.
He muted the TV.
“I’m sorry, what’d you say, hon?”
Joyce rolled her eyes at Liz.
“I said, did you see Susan? Your best friend’s daughter. Remember her?”
He craned around in his chair and grinned.
“Hi, Liz.” He offered her a little wave. “No. I was in the basement this morning trying to fix that God-awful water heater. This afternoon I built the ramp for the boys in the driveway, took a nap. No, I never saw her, Liz. Everything all right?”
Liz realized she’d slumped forward on the counter, knotting her fingers together. She stood up, blew out a shaky breath.
“Probably. But Susan leaves notes. We got home around four and haven’t seen her. No note, no anything.”
“Did you call Hannah?” Joyce asked.
Liz nodded. “She’s making some calls. I should go back. Maybe she’s called. I’m likely fretting for nothing.”
“I’m coming with you,” Joyce told her, grabbing both their drinks. “Ron, make sure the boys don’t burn the house down.”
They walked across the yard, the sky darkening as the horizon took on the fiery orange of the impending sunset. As Liz’s feet met the steps leading to her back porch, she quickened her pace, and then burst through the sliding glass door into the kitchen, sure she’d heard the phone ringing, but only the sounds of Dick Van Dyke met her.
“Jerry did anyone call?” she asked, not bothering to kick off her sandals as she hurried into the sitting room.
His popcorn bowl sat empty on the table beside him.
He looked up, noticed Joyce, and started to speak, but then his eyes returned to his wife’s face. She knew her fear warped her features. Her husband didn’t miss it.
“Liz, why? Did you hear something about Susie?” He sat up straighter, lifted the remote and clicked it off. The ensuing silence rolled out like a tidal wave.
The phone rang, and Liz jumped.
“Do you want me to get it?” Joyce asked, pausing by the receiver.
“No, let me.” Liz snatched up the receiver.
“Hello? Susie?” She couldn’t help but say her name. She wanted desperately for her daughter’s voice to come on the line.
“No, it’s Hannah. Sorry, Mrs. Miner.”
“Did you find her?”
“No, I didn’t. I called everyone I could think of. No one has seen her. Greg said he chatted with her during her run. He was driving to the lake with a few friends and asked if she wanted to join. She said no.”
“Did she tell him if she had other plans?”
“No, she didn’t. I don’t think he asked, but she didn’t mention anything.”
Liz closed her eyes, leaned hard against the counter, and felt the first tears prick the backs of her eyes.
Joyce watched her, eyes wide.
Jerry stepped into the kitchen. He too studied his wife, deep grooves in his forehead - his signature worried look.
“Hannah, if you hear anything at all, please let me know.”
“I will. I promise. And Mrs. Miner, please ask Susie to call me as soon as she gets home, or if you talk to her. I’m sure she’s fine. Any minute now, she’ll walk through the door.”
“I’m sure you’re right, Hannah. Thank you.”
Trembling, Liz hung up the phone.
Chapter 2
Liz
“She’s not that kind of girl,” Liz told the deputy, hysteria rising into her voice. Jerry put a hand on her shoulder. There was strength in his grip, as if he feared Liz might lunge at the officer, pound on his chest like an animal.
“I understand, ma’am. But twenty-four hours is standard procedure, and-”
“Twenty-four hours?” Liz shrieked the words. “Do you have any idea how far she could be? What if someone took her? Susan wouldn’t run off.” She spun to face her husband. “Tell him, Jerry!”
Jerry pulled Liz against him, patted her head.
“Officer, my wife is speaking the Lord’s truth. Whether you call that in isn’t up to us, but in five minutes I’ll have every friend of ours in town searching the streets, the woods, carrying pictures into shops. This isn’t a runaway situation. Understand? Susie never ran away in her life. She’s a good girl.”
Officer Morrison was a young guy. Less than a year veteran of the Emmet County Police Department. He swallowed the lump gathering in his throat. He didn’t know Susie. He grew up a few counties south, but he had a sister her age. A sister who loved to ride horses and who baked him a cake for his birthday every year. She too wouldn’t run away. He imagined what he’d do if Jesse went missing.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll call it in.”
“Thank you,” Liz mumbled into Jerry’s chest. She pulled away and squared her shoulders. “Jerry, I’m going to call Susan’s friend that works at the copy store and see if I can’t get a picture down to her to make fliers.”
“Good idea,” Jerry agreed. “I’ll finish up with Officer Kip.”
It was after midnight. Liz had shifted from worry to panic hours earlier. Her body buzzed with adrenaline. Every noise sent her racing to the door. In her mind, she told herself she’d yell at Susie, stamp her foot and tell her she didn’t care if she was a young woman, she had better never pull a stunt like that again. Another voice said no - give her a hug and never let go. The relief would be overwhelming, crippling. They would laugh about it over toast with peach jam - Susie’s favorite - the following morning.
Joyce sat at Liz’s kitchen table making lists. Lists of people they hadn’t called, popular hangouts to visit with photos of Susan, how to coordinate a search party, and where. That was the scariest question of all. Where should people search?
The search party spread out in a single long line. Liz could not see the end. Heads of different sizes, different colors, some wearing hats, others in sunglasses, ponytails. Many young women, Susie’s friends and peers from high school, long hair flowing down their backs, shoulders tanned, with odd looks on their faces as if they didn’t quite know how to greet the day.