He hugged her again, kissed her forehead that time. “I love you, too. So much.” He pulled away. “Now go. If we find her while you’re gone, I’ll text you right away.”
She nodded and trotted back to the Jeep, aware of the sound of John’s boots jogging away, most likely heading back toward the water. Quickly, she texted Francine: ON MY WAY TO YOU. BEEN A LONG DAY SETTING UP AT THEFAIR, SO MAKE TEA! Annie had no intention of having tea, but she thought the text might deflect any worry Francine might be having.
She felt strong now, able to face her. But as soon as Annie backed out of the driveway, she paused to let another vehicle pull in: it was the pickup that the police kept at the station on Chappy. And it was towing the rescue boat.
Her heart dropped to her gut.
* * *
Somehow, Annie made it to Earl and Claire’s with her game face in place.
As she pulled into the driveway, she called up to the sky. “Murphy, if you’re there, I need a good dose of your courage.”
I’ve got your back, my friend, came the reply.
Which was exactly what Annie needed to hear. What she didn’t need, however, was when she drew close to the house and saw Francine standing outside on the deck. Suddenly Annie felt sick.
As Francine quick-stepped toward the vehicle, Annie braked and turned off the engine. She wanted to be outside, facing her, so that the first thing she could do would be to give Francine a hug. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it would be a start.
“What the heck’s going on?” Francine asked, her petite body rigid, visibly braced for bad news. “I know something’s wrong. Is it Earl? Is it Claire? Are they okay?”
“Oh, honey, they’re fine,” Annie replied and took her into her arms. “I’m sorry if you were worried.”
“Of course I was. There’s food on the counter, but no one’s here. Not even Jonas and Bella.” She paused. “And where arethey, by the way?”
Annie rubbed Francine’s shoulders the way that John had rubbed hers. “Let’s go in the house. I hate talking outside when it’s dark. I’m always afraid of getting dive-bombed by bats.” She knew her comment wasn’t funny, but, again, if she kept things light, it might soften the blow she was about to deal.
Once they were in the kitchen, neither of them made a move to sit down.
“So what’s up?” Francine asked. “And don’t tell me ‘nothing.’ Look at this place.”
She was right. Claire had left what looked like the makings of eggplant Parmesan strewn everywhere: eggplant, already sliced; a canning jar of marinara sauce already opened; slices of mozzarella already shredded; a hunk of Parmesan cheese partially shaved into a pile. Yes, Annie thought, the mess was out of character for Claire, who no doubt had flown out the door.
Annie tried not to glance at Francine’s rounded belly. Her information would be harder to deliver if she thought about the new baby in there.
“We don’t really know if anything’s wrong,” she started slowly. The next line was going to be the toughest. If only John had texted to say they’d found her. If only . . .
But Annie knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She tried to keep her voice steady as she looked directly into Francine’s eyes and took Francine’s hands in hers. “But we can’t seem to find Bella.”
Francine must have taken off her coat when she’d first arrived at the house; the white alpaca scarf that Annie had bought for her birthday last year was still looped around her neck; she still wore the matching beret.
Annie stepped closer as if the young woman might need steadying.
“What do you mean? She’s with Jonas. Isn’t she?”
“She was, honey. Come on, let’s sit at the table.” Annie reached out to guide Francine to a chair.
Francine shook off Annie’s hand. “No!Where’s Bella?For God’s sake, be straight with me!” Her cheeks flared Merlot red, her large eyes narrowed.
“She’s . . .” And then Annie had no idea what to say. Why couldn’t she—the great wordsmith, the one who made up stories about people and lives, good and bad, every single goddamn day—why couldn’t she come up with the right words when they really were needed? She stared at the counter instead of Francine. “It seems she wandered off. She was at the Inn with Jonas . . . well, you know that part . . .”
Francine shook a finger at Annie’s face. “Are you saying Jonaslosther?”
Before Annie could explain that he’d gone into the media room for just a few minutes and when he came back Bella was gone, Francine stormed into Earl’s study and returned with her coat, shoving first one arm, then the other, into the sleeves as she tromped out the back door. “I’m going over there.Now.”
“I’ll drive,” Annie said, grateful that she didn’t get push-back.
* * *
