Navy SEAL Noel (20 page)

This wasn't the first time an officer had notified her of a traffic accident. The night the police officer came to her door to tell her Max had been killed in a wreck was imprinted on her brain. She'd never forget that night and the subsequent tailspin it had sent the rest of her life into.

Dragging her hand along the wall, she tottered to the kitchen. She found her purse hanging on the back of a chair. Her pulse roared through her ears competing with the
Jeopardy!
theme music in the next room. She clawed through her purse until she found her cell phone.

Brett was saying something—headlights, accident, gone—but his words sounded like they were being forced through a long tunnel like thick goop. The orange and brown hues of her grandmother's dated kitchen sharpened into focus.

“I'll call Missy. Maybe...somehow...” She swiped a finger across the smudged screen of her smartphone. Nicole frantically entered her passcode. She tried three times before she got it right. She dialed her friend's number and lifted her eyes to meet Brett's while the phone rang.
Once...twice...
His sympathetic expression made it difficult for her to breathe.

Nicole studied the floor and focused all her energy on the ringing phone.

Three...four...five...

She imagined Missy clawing through her oversize bag, muttering to herself, fumbling for her cell phone. In one second Missy would answer and someday they'd laugh and laugh about the time she borrowed Nicole's car and drove it into the lake during a snowstorm. Yeah. Ha-ha.

Missy's cheerful voice sounded on the line. “It's me. You know what to do.” Voice mail.

The last shred of hope drained from Nicole's numb limbs. “Missy, call me as soon as you get this. I'm worried about you. Really worried...” Her last word crumbled on a sob. She tossed the phone down on the table and dropped into a chair, its legs skidding on the worn linoleum floor. “She's not going to call me, is she?”

“The circumstances seem dire.” Brett stood in the middle of her kitchen, as if frozen, unwilling to commit to an answer. He cleared his throat. “How do you know Missy?”

“We both work at the funeral home.” Nicole pressed her palms together and touched the tip of her nose with her fingers. “I told her not to go to Buffalo. That the weather was bad.” She bit her lower lip, fearing she'd lose it if she let herself cry. “I canceled an appointment I had in Buffalo tonight. We were supposed to go into Buffalo together. Me for my meeting. Missy to visit a boyfriend. But my grandmother wasn't feeling well. I didn't want to leave her alone with my son.” She winced, wondering if she had made a mistake by mentioning her son, but hiding Ethan's paternity when her friend was missing didn't exactly seem to be a top priority.

Nicole continued, “Missy was determined to see her boyfriend and she doesn't have a car.” Her friend had an infectious smile and could talk anyone into anything, including talking Nicole into lending out her car on a snowy night, against her better judgment.

“Where was Missy headed?” Brett sat across from Nicole.

“Her boyfriend lives outside of Buffalo.” Nicole rested her elbows on the table and stared out the window, willing her car to appear in its usual spot in the driveway. “How could this be happening?”

“The lake is mostly frozen, but there are strong undercurrents. The dive team is still searching...I'm sorry.” Brett paused, the compassion in his voice both comforting and unnerving. She wanted someone to reassure her that Missy was fine, not apologize for the reasons she wasn't. “What time did Missy leave Silver Lake?”

She glanced at the bird clock on the wall and saw it was about to chirp the eight o'clock hour. She sighed. “About two hours ago. I know because I was supposed to meet...” She hesitated, uncertain how much she wanted to say “...I had planned to meet with a client of the funeral home to straighten out some paperwork.”

She traced a scar on her grandmother's oak kitchen table. “I had to cancel my plans because my grandmother wasn't feeling well. The meeting could wait.” She hoped. A funeral home client had complained he hadn't received the services his father had paid for prior to his burial. Isaac King had threatened to file a complaint with the Better Business Bureau, his lawyer and anyone who would listen if his complaint wasn't resolved in a timely manner.

Nicole did some office work and cosmetology at the funeral home. When she answered Mr. King's angry call, she promised to meet with him. Hopefully to clear things up. She didn't want to bother Mr. Peters with this. He had enough on his plate caring for his ailing wife. Ultimately, it came down to two things: Peters Funeral Home couldn't afford the bad publicity and Nicole couldn't afford to lose her job.

“A storm was blowing in. Wasn't Missy worried about driving in the snow?” Brett's question snapped her back to the moment.

Nicole traced the scar on the table's surface in the reverse direction. “Missy grew up in Buffalo. She was used to driving in the snow.” Nicole shrugged. “Maybe she was a little too confident.”

Nicole rested her chin on the palm of her hand. “The weather forecasters around here are always calling for a snow Armageddon. It never materializes. The weather probably caught her off guard.” A small part of her was cognizant of the ridiculousness of talking about the weather, but she couldn't think straight. “Did you search the area around the lake? Maybe she's confused, wandering around in a state of shock.” An ember of hope sparked in her heart. “I'll help. I'll grab my coat.”

Brett touched her arm, forcing her to sit back down. “The officers are searching the area, but it's more likely she...” He seemed to be searching for the right words. “Nicole, you need to brace for the worst.”

Nicole felt her lower lip begin to quiver. She didn't
want
to brace for the worst. She wanted to have hope. Hope that God had protected Missy.

“Was Missy under the influence of anything when she left?”

Anger, hot and unexpected, swept up her neck and cheeks. “Oh, sure, I'm going to hand over the keys to my car to someone who had been drinking.” She leaned in close and whispered, “Don't judge me or my friends by who you think I am. I'm not the same person who left Silver Lake.”

Nicole couldn't be sure, but she thought she detected a hint of contrition in his eyes. “I had to ask.”

Nicole scratched her head. The anger drifted away, forced out by her growing fear.

“Can I call someone for you?”

“No.” Other than her grandmother, her son and her work, she lived in a pretty small bubble. And she liked it that way.

“We'll send an officer to Missy's family. It's just her mother, right? Do you have her information?

“Her mother's name is Gloria. She'd call her by her first name. You know, the way people sometimes do when they're being overly dramatic. She lives in Buffalo. Near the university.”

“Okay.” Brett patted her hand. “We can track her down. Do you know the contact information for Missy's boyfriend?”

Nicole shook her head. “If I had her cell phone...” The cell phone that was probably at the bottom of the lake. She met Brett's gaze and wrapped her hands tightly around the edge of her seat. None of this seemed real. “Is there something you're not telling me?”

A creak drew her attention toward the TV room. A frail-looking Gigi stopped in the archway, her hand on the wheel of her wheelchair. Her grandmother gave Brett a pointed glare that accentuated the lines around her mouth. “I hope you're not here bothering my granddaughter. She's done nothing wrong. She's here helping me until I can get around on my own again.”

A flicker akin to shame flashed across Brett's warm eyes. “No, Miss Mary—”

“Everyone calls me Gigi now.”

“Well, I'm afraid I have bad news.”

Gigi cocked her head, anticipation on her face.

“Nicole's car was found submerged in the lake.”

Her grandmother squared her shoulders and pressed the button on the arm of her wheelchair to set it in motion. When she reached the kitchen table, she put her hand on Nicole's. “Oh, dear. Is Missy okay?”

“Chief Eggert thinks Missy may have skidded off the road in the snow.” An ache grew more powerful in the back of Nicole's throat.

“There's something else,” Brett said.

Nicole's heart pounded in her ears. She swallowed around a knot in her throat.

“A witness thought he saw two cars coming around the curve. It was snowing heavily at the time, but if there were two cars, one may have pushed your car off the road.”

Her grandmother gasped and all the color drained from her face.

Panic crushed Nicole's chest and she struggled to draw breath. “Why would someone do that?”

“That's what we're trying to figure out. Do you have any enemies, Nicole?”

She met his gaze and didn't know what to feel. Brett knew as well as she that the Eggert family hated her. Something unspoken hung in the air.

Nicole ran a hand through her hair. “I've kept to myself since returning to Silver Lake. I've put my past behind me. I haven't kept in touch with anyone from that time in my life. Now, I work and I spend time with my family. That's it.”

A thought bothered Nicole. She had planned to meet with Mr. King, the disgruntled funeral home client, in person and compare his contract with the one she'd pulled from the files. What if someone didn't want her to go to that meeting? She shook away the thought.
Ridiculous.

No
,
she didn't have any new enemies.

Just the Eggert family, who blamed her for Max's death. And the drug dealer she had testified against. But he was in prison.

“Do you know if Missy was an aggressive driver? Perhaps the accident was the result of road rage. Or not taking care on snow-covered roads.”

Nicole shook her head adamantly. “Never. She'd pick up Ethan from school for me sometimes. I'd never let my son ride in a car if I suspected he wasn't safe.”

Brett tapped his hand on the table and stood. “I'm very sorry about your friend.”

“Thank you.”

“I'll be in touch about your vehicle.” He placed his business card on the table.

“I'm not worried about my car. Please call me when you find Missy.” She tore off a corner of an envelope and scratched down her number. On the way to the front door she handed the paper to him. “Call me the second you find Missy.”

Nicole closed the door tightly behind Brett and leaned her forehead against the cool wood.

Ethan ran down the hall and wrapped his arms around her legs. “I want to be a policeman.”

Nicole smiled, a strained gesture. Her heart ached. “Chief Eggert is the chief of police. He stopped by, but everything is okay.” She tousled his hair.
Everything is going to be okay. Please, Lord, let everything be okay.

Ethan shrugged, the way kids do. He grabbed his skateboard which had been propped up against the wall. He sat down on it and rolled across the hardwood floor, already marred from fifty years of living. She opened her mouth to yell at him, but stopped. No, today was a day to be thankful. She had another day to spend with Ethan.

Guilt gave a hard edge to her sweet relief.

What if Nicole had been with Missy?

Submerged in the murky depths of Silver Lake.

Copyright © 2014 by Alison Stone