The Face of the Earth Read online

  “I already called there,” he said, an edge to his voice. “They said they’d call if anyone remembered anything, but I guess it can’t hurt to talk to them again.”

  She took her cell phone into the living room with the list of numbers Mitch had jotted down. In places, he’d pressed so hard with the pencil that it had sliced through to the next sheet of paper.

  She heard him talking to Evan, then Katie. Mitch’s voice changed as he tried to calm his daughter. “Katie, listen to me . . .” His tone was deliberately even––what Shelley thought of as his principal’s voice. “It’s going to be fine. I’m sure there’s an explanation. I’ll call you back as soon as we know anything, okay? Just say a prayer for Mom, okay, sweetie?”

  Shelley understood Katie’s fears. She had a bad feeling . . . a very bad feeling about tonight. That Jill had been in an accident––or worse. And yet––

  Bits and pieces of a conversation she’d had with Jill a few weeks ago came back to her now––like darts. Not quite hitting a bull’s eye, but close.

  It had seemed innocuous enough––an old boyfriend had friended Jill on Facebook earlier this summer. She’d thought he was flirting with her just a little, and naturally, she’d been flattered. Shelley hadn’t thought much of it at the time, except it wasn’t like Jill even to entertain such an overture.

  Now, she had to wonder . . . Was there something else at play here?

  Chapter 3

  Saturday, September 4

  Shelley looked up from her phone, realizing Mitch had been silent in the kitchen for several minutes. She looked at the list of phone numbers. She’d only made one call. A lot of help she was.

  She struggled to remember the last conversation she’d had with Jill. Jill had been crazy busy with the start of school and it had been several days––maybe a week––since they’d had a conversation that went beyond the everyday “Hey, can I borrow an egg?” But she and Jill went way back, and their friendship had survived the ebbs and flows of each of their lives. They shared secrets and trusted each other implicitly––and often vented to each other. Thinking out loud, they called it. How often had they laughingly said, “Who needs a shrink when I’ve got you?” after a particularly intense venting session?

  But Jill had struggled recently––maybe more than Mitch knew––with how different her life would be after Katie left for college. And Shelley couldn’t seem to help her through this rough patch like she always had before. It had shocked Shelley to see her confident, vibrant friend suddenly not seem to have a sense of herself. Questioning everything. Was she making a difference as a teacher? Had she been a good enough mother? Would she and Mitch still be happy together when it was just the two of them? And that thing with the old boyfriend was out of character for Jill. She’d never been a flirt.

  Shelley had teased her about being in full-blown midlife crisis. But finally she’d steered her friend to a real shrink. Maybe she’d mistaken a serious emotional crisis or deep depression for something she never should have blown off so easily. She tried again to remember the last thing she and Jill had talked about.

  Probably Katie going off to college. Or Evan. Jill constantly worried that she hadn’t given her kids the life skills they needed to live on their own. It bothered Shelley that she had to think so hard to remember their last conversation.

  But it had been a while since she and Jill had just done something fun together––gone shopping or to a movie or out to lunch. She should have made more of an effort. But it wasn’t all her fault. Besides getting her classroom ready for a new school year, Jill had been helping Katie get ready for college. Jill was measuring out every moment with her daughter, and Shelley had made herself scarcer than usual, trying to give Jill her space. And Jill hadn’t protested.

  Shelley hated her own tendency to jealousy. Jill had ten times as many friends as she did—mostly fellow teachers. And she somehow managed to juggle them all and not make Shelley feel like she was anything less than her closest friend—most of the time anyway. Audrey and Katie had rolled their eyes and made gagging sounds the first time she and Jill had referred to each other as BFFs. But it was true. And in spite of Jill’s wealth of friends, Shelley never doubted she and Jill would always be Best Friends Forever.

  She had good intentions of doing things to broaden her own friendships––invitations for shopping trips and lunch-hour gatherings with her coworkers weren’t rare. But she didn’t need as many friends as Jill did. As long as she had Jill, she was content with the way things were.

  Sighing, she went back to the kitchen where Mitch still sat at the table in the breakfast nook.

  “So . . . the kids haven’t heard from her?” She didn’t need to ask. The answer was in his hunched shoulders and weary sigh.

  “No.” Mitch dragged his fingers through his hair. “Katie’s pretty upset. I promised I’d call her back in a couple of hours. Remind me, would you?”

  “Sure.” Knowing her tendency to forget, Shelley set an alarm on her phone to remind them. “Hopefully by then we’ll be calling with good news.”

  Mitch shook his head. “I don’t see how it can be good . . . not at this point.”

  She had no words to refute him.

  He motioned toward the list in her right hand. “Did you find anything?”

  “No . . . I still have calls to make. I’ll do that now. Do you want me to put on some coffee first?”

  “That would be good.” He took the list from her. “You make coffee. I’ll make phone calls. Thanks.”

  She knew her way around Jill’s kitchen as well as her own. Memories washed over her as she looked around the Brannons’ beautiful home. She and Jill had spent many hours helping each other paint, hang wallpaper, or finish some home decorating project or another. Those hours had formed a bond between them that went far beyond mere next-door neighbors. She could hardly make it seem real that her friend was missing.

  She opened the cupboard where the coffee was stored and her hand hovered over the small selection of containers. If she had any faith at all, she would choose decaf, trusting they’d all soon be sagging back to their beds in relief.

  She pulled out a tin labeled “Robust Blend” and measured it into the filter. Within a few minutes the soothing aroma wafted under her nose. She poured a cup for each of them and carried the coffee to the breakfast nook. She sat down across from Mitch. “It’s going to be okay,” she said, with more conviction than she felt. “Hey, would Jill have stopped somewhere for gas along the way?”

  “She left with a full tank. I know that because I filled it up Tuesday night after she got home. But she might have stopped to fill up before she headed back.” He brightened and held up a hand. “I know how we can find out. She’s got our credit card account set up online. If I can remember the password I can check if she’s used the credit card.”

  He went back to his office and returned with his laptop. Shelley sat across from him at the table while he checked the credit card statement.

  “Here it is. There’s a charge pending at a gas station in Kansas City, Kansas. Purchase made yesterday . . . But it doesn’t say what time.” He looked up at Shelley. “The hotel must have been on the Kansas side. I didn’t realize that. That would mean she had a little farther to drive than she might have thought.”

  “Not seven hours farther.” She immediately regretted her somber tone.

  But Mitch agreed, frowning. “I can’t imagine why she hasn’t called. Why someone hasn’t called. If she was in an accident, wouldn’t they be trying to reach me? Even if she was unconscious, she’d have her ID on her. I just don’t get it. She should have––”

  The shrill ring of the landline phone made them both start.

  Shelley almost cheered. “There she is!” A rush of relief went through her.

  Mitch shoved back his chair and hurried to answer the phone. Shelley strained to hear his side of the conversation, but it was immediately apparent that it wasn’t Jill. And whoever it was had upset Mitc
h.

  “Did she steal it?” His forehead creased deeper.

  Shelley leaned closer, and didn’t even try to pretend she wasn’t eavesdropping. This didn’t sound good.

  “I don’t understand.” Mitch scratched something on the notepad by the phone. “Why would she have done that . . . ? No. My wife is still not home. No one has seen her. She’s missing, and I want to talk to that maid!”

  Shelley got up and came over to stand on the other side of the bar counter.

  “I don’t care,” Mitch shouted into the phone. “My wife was supposed to be home seven hours ago. You can’t tell me there’s not a connection here.”

  He made no effort to use his principal’s voice now. What was going on?

  He paced the length of the kitchen. “No. I want that woman held for questioning––” He listened with clenched jaw. “Yes, and you can expect to hear from the police shortly, too. And my attorney.”

  After a few more heated words, Mitch turned to Shelley, his jaw slack. “This is Jill’s hotel. A maid supposedly found some jewelry left in Jill’s room.”

  “Jewelry? She doesn’t even wear that much jewelry. Except for her wedding ring. Did they say what it was?”

  “They’re checking now.”

  “If she checked out at one o’clock, why would they just now be finding her stuff?”

  “The guy said they found it when they cleaned the room––whenever that was. Apparently the night staff had made a note of my call earlier when I asked for Jill. They didn’t realize the connection until they briefed the next shift and––” He held up a hand and pressed his phone closer to his ear.

  Mitch slid a pen and pad toward Shelley, and she jotted down the descriptions as he relayed them. A silver watch, a pair of silver earrings, and a diamond bracelet with a clasp.

  “Yes, but why?” he said into the phone. He glanced at Shelley and rolled his eyes, obviously impatient with the person he was talking to. “But why didn’t someone call before to let us know the jewelry was left behind?”

  Shelley stood by, listening, feeling a little like she was eavesdropping.

  “No, don’t mail anything,” Mitch said, his brow furrowed. “If you could, please just hold the jewelry in the safe there until I contact you.” He hung up and looked at Shelley, shaking his head. “To protect the privacy of their guests, they don’t contact guests about lost items. Apparently they made an exception in this case since I’d already called looking for Jill.”

  “Why wouldn’t they call? What if it was something important?”

  “The guy said”––he glanced away, looking embarrassed––“some of their guests would prefer that their spouses not be informed that they had stayed at the hotel.”

  It took her a minute to get it. And she hated that when she did, it took her back to the conversation she’d had with Jill. But there was no way––

  “Does anything there sound like Jill’s jewelry?” Mitch slid the notepad closer.

  His question surprised her. “You’d know better than I would, Mitch.” She looked at the list again. “Jill so rarely wore jewelry, and this isn’t much to go on. I remember her wearing a silver watch sometimes, but she never wears earrings. Does she? Did she even own a diamond bracelet?”

  “Not that I know of. Not real diamonds for sure.”

  “But do you think she might have worn more jewelry than usual to a conference?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. She always says it gets in the way at school. I guess she does sometimes wear a necklace or bracelet if she’s dressing up . . . like for a wedding or something. The kids got her a bracelet for Christmas a couple years ago and she wears that sometimes. Mostly just when they’re around though. For their sake.”

  “She did have pierced ears though. Remember? She sneaked out and had it done when she was in high school.” She smiled, remembering Jill’s hilarious account of the event.

  Mitch chuckled. “Yes, and her mom found out and grounded her for the whole summer.”

  “But I can’t remember her ever wearing earrings since I’ve known her.”

  His smile faded. “She doesn’t. Hasn’t for a long time.”

  “Maybe there was a dressy banquet at the conference?”

  “No. I’m sure there wouldn’t have been. Not at this conference. Why would she have taken that stuff with her?”

  “And then left it there?” It didn’t make sense. “Is it possible someone else left the jewelry behind? A previous hotel guest. Did they say where in the room they found it?”

  “On the bathroom counter. If someone else left it, Jill would have seen it first thing when she checked in. And she would have reported it right away.”

  Shelley nodded. Jill would never have let someone worry about a lost treasure. And the watch did sound like one she’d seen Jill wear.

  Mitch put an ear to the phone again. “I’m calling the police. Something’s fishy.”

  Chapter 4

  “Sir, you can meet us at the hotel if you like.” The police officer’s tone struck Mitch as condescending and he gripped the cell phone tighter. Then quickly reminded himself it was probably studied patience on the officer’s part. Mitch glanced at Shelley, who stood across from him, listening to his end of the conversation. Hopefully she would keep him from saying something he’d regret.

  “Just let us know what time you’ll be arriving,” the officer said.

  “Like I told the guy at the hotel, I live five hours away, and I don’t want to be away from home in case my wife shows up here. Or in case . . . some hospital calls looking for me. But once my wife is home, we will come up and pick up the jewelry.” He still wasn’t convinced the jewelry belonged to Jill in the first place.

  “I understand, sir. And we’ll keep her belongings safe. I assure you we’re doing everything we can from our end. Right now we have no cause to believe this has any connection to your wife’s whereabouts. Our detectives questioned the employee and the hotel manager shortly after you reported the incident. It appears your wife’s things were left behind. Whether accidentally or on purpose, we couldn’t––”

  “What do you mean on purpose?”

  “As I started to say, sir, there’s no way to determine whether the items were left behind accidentally or intentionally, but it does appear the hotel employee acted exactly according to the hotel’s policy and turned in the abandoned property as soon as it was discovered.”

  “Abandoned? I’m sorry, but do you have any reason to think my wife left it there”––he groped for a word––“. . . willfully?” His patience was thinning fast.

  “Sir, that is always a possibility in situations like this. Not knowing anything about your situation, we have no way of determining that. But I can tell you that it is the case in most skips—disappearances, I mean.”

  “I’ll tell you about my ‘situation’––” His blood reached a slow boil. “My wife and I are very happily married, and I promise you she did not intentionally disappear. Anyone who knows us will vouch for that.” He looked to Shelley for validation, calming a notch at her nod of agreement. “I’m telling you that something is very wrong and you need to take this seriously and find out what it is!”

  Shelley cleared her throat softly, but pointedly. It had the effect he knew she intended. He lowered his voice, felt his blood pressure go back toward simmer. “I’m sorry,” he told the officer. “I––I know you’re doing everything you can. Thank you. How should I get in touch––”

  Shelley tapped the notepad he was writing on. “The jewelry,” she mouthed.

  In his anger, he’d forgotten that Shelley had suggested they ask the police for a more detailed description of the jewelry since the hotel hadn’t been very clear. “Sir,” he said into the phone, “could you please describe the jewelry they found? The stuff my wife supposedly left in her hotel room?”

  “Let me check the report. Just a moment.”

  He covered the phone. “Thank you,” he told Shelley. “I’m not thinki
ng straight. If it wasn’t for you I’d––”

  “Mr. Brannon?” The officer was back on the line. “What they sent over isn’t a very clear image, but it looks like a silver bracelet-type watch, a pair of––”

  “Wait. Let me write this down.”

  Shelley leaned in, reading over his shoulder.

  “There’s the watch, a bracelet––possibly diamond?––and a pair of silver and black teardrop earrings and some sort of hair thing. The word they wrote looks like scrunchy”––he spelled it––“whatever that is?” The officer chuckled.

  Mitch jotted the items on the notepad. He showed it to Shelley, who gave a nod, even though the shrug that accompanied it said she wasn’t altogether certain.

  “Yes,” he said into the phone. “I think those are Jill’s things––my wife’s things.” He wasn’t at all sure, but he wasn’t about to risk his chance to view the jewelry and be certain for himself. Hopefully Katie would recognize it. Please, God, don’t let this go that far. It killed him even to imagine having to call the kids back and tell them Jill still wasn’t home. That she was . . . missing. “May I call this number back to check on the investigation?”

  “Let me give you another number to call first.” The officer read off a toll-free number. Mitch dutifully jotted it down below the others on what was becoming an extensive list. He had the distinct impression he was being pawned off on some rookie, but he thanked the cop and hung up.

  “They think she walked out on me,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “What? That’s . . . crazy. They said that?”

  “Not in so many words, but their questions made it obvious that’s what they think.”

  “They––they’re probably just trying to cover all the bases.”