She chomps down on a cube of watermelon. “When it’s foggy out, or misty…” She holds a finger in the air, still chewing. “…spirits are able to more easily enter through the human realm and communicate with us.”
Naomi shovels in a forkload of macaroni salad so she doesn’t have to speak, eyeing the group. It’s not that she doesn’t believe in any sort of supernatural phenomena. In high school she worked at a creepy bed-and-breakfast, where multiple parents reported their children talking to a tree. The same tree. Naomi later learned that a man was reportedly hanged there during the Revolutionary War.
“I’ve never heard of that, but it makes sense,” Lori replies, as Aunt Mary, Kath, and Donna nod in fascination.
Naomi sneezes and all the women turn their attention to her. She curses the Hudson Valley air.
“God bless you!” Kath says, placing her hand on Naomi’s back.
“Thanks,” Naomi replies. “Allergies.” Her allergies have been acting up since she stepped foot in Poughkeepsie, almost like she is allergic to the place itself.
Laura lets out a laugh. “Allergies. More like government intervention!”
Naomi’s eyebrows shoot up, taken aback.
“It’s got nothin’ to do with the pollen, honey, believe me.” Laura waves her fork around again. “The government orchestrates it all, dumps the chemicals round here as a test twice a year.”
“Don’t want us feeling well enough to fight back,” Lori chimes in, taking Naomi by surprise. But then she remembers all the other conspiracy theories she’s seen Lori’s kids, including Nick, post about on Facebook and decides to just nod along.
She tunes out, gaze drifting behind her to the woods where Nick’s young nieces are playing. She smiles, remembering how magical the woods felt when she was a kid. She recalls the time when she and Faye, nine and seven, found an intricately carved miniature door at the base of a tree, painted yellow. The fairy door, they called it. It soon became their spot, a sort of safe haven. It was where they’d go if their mom was having one of her “days,” when she was too hungover to do anything, or when she was having a spat with her latest boyfriend. Then, as they got older, it became the party place for them and their friends. They’d play beer pong with Hennessy and Peach Schnapps and drink by the fire pit they dug out.
Naomi pulls her jacket tight around her as a cold wind moves in, thinking about how life changes you. As a child, the woods represent magic. As a teen, excitement. As an adult, danger. She pictures the ramshackle house, hidden by trees. The one Faye was found in, not too far from here. Naomi moves her shoulders around and adjusts her neck from side to side, feeling squeamish.
She’s catapulted from her thoughts back to the party when Nick makes an announcement for everyone to gather around the big box near the side of the house. She breathes a sigh of relief, knowing the party is about to be over and she can make her way to Millbrook. She considers visiting her sister’s gravesite first, but the mere thought of it puts her on edge. She just wants to get out of the area. Something about being home feels wrong. A constant tightening in her chest, shortness of breath. A feeling that will worsen tenfold if she goes to the cemetery. No, she’ll visit when she has answers about Harlow, like she originally planned.
“Five!” Guests begin counting down excitedly, eager to see what color balloons will be unleashed from the box in front of Katie and Nick.
“Four!” Naomi imagines pink balloons flying toward the sky. Her sister’s face flashes in her mind, snapshots of her as a little girl through to adulthood.
“Three!” Naomi pictures Jade Dutton, another sister lost.
“Two!” She envisions blue balloons and thinks of Colton Scott.
“One!” Everyone cheers as blue balloons fly out of the box. But Naomi stays silent, stuck in a daze, with Harlow Hayes’ smirking face imprinted in her mind.
Chapter 17
Naomi pulls up to the Millbrook Diner in Uncle Frankie’s white sedan, twenty minutes before she and Emily Dutton have agreed to meet. The diner is an old-fashioned structure, adorned with stainless-steel siding and an LED neon sign above the entrance. It’s in the center of town, with rows of vintage lampposts and perfectly trimmed trees lining the street, their leaves a mix of green, yellow, and orange, giving it a charming aesthetic akin to the setting of a Hallmark movie. But seeing as she’s there to discuss the murder of one of the town’s former residents, Naomi isn’t charmed, only able to focus on the gray clouds rolling in.
Once seated in a corner booth, her server, Logan, grins widely as he hands her the menu. He looks like he’s popped out of a children’s book. Long and lanky, with a wide, friendly smile. A bell rings and they both turn their attention to the entrance, where the hostess is pointing Emily in their direction.
Emily’s resemblance to Jade is as prominent in person as it is on her profile. She looks similar to her photos, but on Instagram she’s usually more done-up. This morning, she’s dressed casually in a pair of white sneakers and a gray sweatsuit that hides her figure. Her short brown hair is pulled tight into a low bun, slicked back with what looks like a bottle of hairspray, with a full face of heavily contoured makeup that doesn’t seem to match her attire.
Naomi stands as Emily comes over. Logan gives Emily a menu and excuses himself.
“Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me.” Naomi extends her hand to Emily, who shakes it before taking a seat.
“Yeah, no problem. You were actually the only journalist to reach out, so…”
“Really?” Naomi asks, taken aback.
Emily nods. “Yeah, everyone else seems to care more about getting clicks than the truth. They’re all focused on Colton and Harlow, no one really seems that interested in Jade.”
“Typical.” Naomi grunts in annoyance and shakes her head, before looking Emily in the eye. “Well, I care very much about what happened to Jade.”
Logan interrupts to take their order. A black coffee and pastry for Naomi; a Reuben and Diet Coke for Emily.
Once Logan walks away, Emily leans back and studies Naomi. “Well, I guess you know what it’s like. To lose a sister.”
