“You haven’t told anyone?”
She hesitated, then shook her head.
“Why not?”
Her shoulders sagged and she looked at me the way Emily did sometimes, like I didn’t have a single clue as to how the world worked. “Why not?” she repeated. “Have you met my mother? Everyone expects me to get into a drama program, but her especially. If I tell her I got rejected, she’ll go major freako on me. She’ll totally spaz on me and it’ll be all my fault.”
“Do you know that for sure?” I asked. “She might surprise you. Maybe she’ll understand. Maybe she could help you appeal the decision.”
“No way,” she said, shaking her head. “She’d probably kick me out of the house. Or make me join the Marines. Or something else just as insane.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “She can’t know. You can’t tell her anything. I’m begging you.”
“You don’t have to worry about me saying anything,” I told her. “But I wish you’d reconsider talking to someone about it. You know, rather than keeping it a big secret.”
She squinted at me. “You really haven’t met my mother, have you?”
“I just mean that keeping a secret is a really hard thing to do. Especially something like this.”
She eyed me cautiously. “Are you just angling for more money?”
I shook my head, exasperated. “No, Madison, I’m not. Forget I said anything. Good luck with your appeal. I hope it works out for you.” I motioned at the wall. “Turn out the lights on your way out, okay? And lock the door.”
I repositioned my bag on my shoulder and headed for the door.
“Wait,” she said, when I had my hand on the knob. “Wait.”
I stopped, took another deep breath and turned around. “What?”
“You really don’t want anything?” she asked. “And you really won’t say anything?”
“I don’t want anything. I won’t say anything.” I forced a smile in her direction. “And don’t forget your bag when you leave.”
TWENTY THREE
“How was play practice?” Jake asked.
“Insane, like always.”
“Good to know some things never change.”
We were getting into bed. Actually, I was getting into bed. He was already nestled between the sheets, having coming up twenty minutes earlier to read while I got Sophie settled into bed. He’d offered to do it, but I’d waved him off, needing the time with one of our own kids to remind myself that not every interaction with a younger generation had to border on the insane. I spent fifteen minutes with her, asking her about the overnight and laughing with her, hoping that neither she nor any of the others would ever keep the kind of secrets from me that Madison was keeping from her mom. I reminded myself that they probably would and that I’d need to remember to forgive them when they did. After I said goodnight to her, I headed to our room, where Jake asked me how the theater was.
I snuggled under the sheets, the room colder than normal. The low was close to freezing and the sound of the heat being forced through the vents was almost a constant now… and would be for the next six months, knowing what fall and winter and spring were like in Minnesota.
I relayed my encounter with Madison Bandersand.
Jake set his book on the nightstand when I was done and let out a long whistle. “Wowzers.”
“Right? Poor girl was a mess.”
“I don’t blame her. Her mother’s seven kinds of nuts.”
“I know. But still. That’s a massive secret to keep to yourself.”
He nodded in agreement. “It is. But it’s her choice... and not your business.”
“I have to wonder if she even wants to play Snow White,” I said, ignoring his comment. “Like, maybe she just had to because her mother expected her to.”
“Maybe.”
“Or maybe she really did want the role and she was glad when Amanda disappeared,” I said.
He yawned. “Maybe.”
“And then I started thinking about all the people that might be responsible for Amanda’s disappearance.” I was thinking out loud now. Knowing Jake, he’d be snoring in thirty seconds.
“Of course you did.”
I looked at him. “What?”
“Of course you did,” he repeated. He rubbed his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything different. So, come on. Lay it on me. Let me hear your suspect list.”
“You’re mocking me.” I studied him. “And you’re also falling asleep.”
“I’m actually not. On either count. I’m offering you an attentive ear.”
I frowned. “It feels like you’re mocking me.”
He found my hand beneath the sheets and folded his fingers into mine. “I’m not mocking you. I know how your mind works. Tell me what you’re thinking. Get it off your chest.” He leaned closer. “I’m listening.”
I scanned his face for any sign of mockery. I didn’t see any.
I looked a little harder.
Nothing.
So I assumed he was being sincere.
And I was ready to unload my thoughts.
“Okay,” I said, putting my free hand behind my head and staring up at the ceiling. “So I’m listening to Madison today. She’s totally hysterical, right? Clearly upset she didn’t get into school and clearly upset at the idea of telling her mother. What’s the one thing that might take her mother’s attention off of her college admission?”
“Pants that don’t reach her boobs?” Jake suggested.
I bit back a smile. “Close, but no. Her daughter starring in her latest production.” I paused, letting it sink in. “That would absolutely occupy Eleanor in a number of ways. Plus, it would be a boon for Madison.”
“How so?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but let’s say she’s serious about appealing her rejection from the school,” I explained. “She could go to them and say ‘Hey, look. I’m starring in another production right now.’ It’s another thing for her to add on to her resume. Maybe she would look like a better candidate.”
Jake thought about that for a moment, then made a face. “Maybe, but it’s not like she hasn’t been in plays before, right? Isn’t she normally the star of all of her mother’s plays? A leading role isn’t a new thing for her.”
“But in her head, if she’s this desperate to get into a drama program, maybe she thinks it might be something that could turn the decision in her favor,” I said to him. I shifted my gaze from the ceiling to look at him. “And maybe that would make her desperate enough to do something about it. Like make sure Amanda disappears.”
“I think that’s a reach,” he answered. “You’re making the assumption that a desperate teenager would kidnap – or do something even worse – to a rival simply to improve her lot in life. Does the Bandersand kid really seem like that kind of psycho?”
I thought about my interactions with Madison, in addition to the things I’d heard about her. “She’s a brat,” I finally said, “but I’m not sure I could call her a psycho at this point.”
“So then your leap is pretty big. And where on the planet would one teenager hide another teenager, especially when the assumed kidnapper lives with the director of the play?” He eyed me. “Sorry. Planet is too big. Where in Moose River would a teenager hide another teenager?”
“Our coal chute…”
He chuckled. “That was a dead body, not a live, breathing person. And we’ve sealed up the access point.”
“Bet there are other houses with easily accessible coal chutes.”
“Bet there aren’t.” He squeezed my hand. “Regardless of where someone might want to hide a person they’ve kidnapped, I’m just saying – I don’t think it’s that easy. Especially for a teenage girl no bigger than Emily.”
He had a good point. I wasn’t sure how reasonable it was to think that Madison Bandersand would somehow be able to kidnap Amanda Pendleton and then hide her without her mother’s knowledge. That would take a lot of planning. And probably some help.
“Who else might benefit?” Jake asked. “From a missing Amanda?”