The produce section had been picked clean except for some sad-looking Brussels sprouts and a few bruised apples. An elderly woman clutched the last bag of potatoes like someone might wrestle her for them. Maybe someone would. The storm had everyone spooked, turning neighbors into competitors for the last loaf of bread.
I moved systematically through the store, trying to look casual while my eyes searched for dark brown hair with highlights. Streaks of blonde that caught the light, making her look ten years younger. Not that she’d needed them. Kelsey had always been beautiful to me, even during the brutal months leading up to our divorce when grief had left her with dark circles beneath her eyes and a permanent shell-shocked expression.
The breakfast aisle turned up nothing but a harried mother with three kids arguing over Pop-Tarts. In the dairy section, two men were playing tug-of-war with a gallon of whole milk.
Each aisle I checked without finding her made the knot in my stomach pull tighter. Maybe she’d already come and gone. Maybe she was back at the cabin right now, blissfully unaware I was out looking for her.
But that meant I would have had to have passed her on the way down, and I was damn sure I hadn’t.
A stock boy pushed past with a cart full of canned goods, and I grabbed his arm. “Hey, you been here all morning?”
He looked about sixteen, with acne and an expression that suggested he’d rather be anywhere else. “Since five, yeah.”
“You see a woman with brown hair, about this tall?” I held my hand just under my collarbone.
The kid shrugged. “Man, I’ve seen about two hundred people this morning. They’re all starting to look the same.”
Fair enough. I released his arm and headed for the checkout lines, all six of them packed with people whose carts overflowed with supplies. Like they were planning to be snowed in until spring.
The elderly cashier at register three looked familiar—Helen or Ellen. She’d been working here since I’d moved to town. I waited until she’d finished ringing up a man with enough bottled water to fill a swimming pool.
“Morning,” I said, trying for casual. “Place is crazy today.”
“Tell me about it.” She pushed her glasses up her nose. “Haven’t seen anything like this since that storm in ‘06. You stocking up too?”
“Actually, I’m looking for someone. Woman about my age, long brown hair? She would have been driving a white SUV with New York plates.”
Her face scrunched in thought. “New York plates? Can’t say I’ve seen any. But I’ve only been on register for the last hour. Maybe check with Carl in the parking lot. He’s been helping people load their cars.”
Carl turned out to be as useless as a screen door on a submarine. Hadn’t seen any New York plates, hadn’t noticed any woman matching Kelsey’s description, hadn’t really been paying attention to anything except trying to keep his fingers from freezing off.
The parking lot was even more chaotic now, cars sliding on the ice, horns honking, people abandoning their carts in the middle of trafficlanes. I headed back to the Bronco and pulled out my phone. No messages. No missed calls. Just the two texts I’d sent earlier, still undelivered.
My thumbs moved across the screen, opening the group chat with the girls.
Me
Either of you heard from your mom this morning?
The response was almost immediate.
Addie
Not since last night. She said she was going grocery shopping this morning. But she hasn’t responded to any of our texts.
Sky
you’re not mad we tricked you last night, are you???
Addie
It seemed like the only way to get you two in the same room.
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw, the wind blowing hard enough to rock the Bronco. Of course, they’d ask about that now. I wasn’t about to unload thirty years of marital failure in a goddamn text message, and sure as hell not while their mama was out in this storm.
Me
We can talk about that later.
