“I can’t believe this is happening,” Lily said somberly as she watched the TV and absently petted Jennings, who had deigned to curl up next to her. A half-full glass of red wine sat on the coffee table, where several magazines lay open.
On the screen a grim-faced Jamison Kittle was front and center, other officers nearby, and she caught a glimpse of Pierce, standing a few feet to one side.
An older couple were huddled next to Jamison. They were, Nikki guessed, Naomi’s parents. The woman was petite, like Naomi, with the same arched brows and high cheekbones. She’d placed one manicured hand over the youngest girl’s shoulder, while a stoic man in his early seventies stood close. Both parents looked devastated, their faces etched with shared fear. The Kittles’ usually rambunctious daughters stood ashen-faced, like proverbial does in the headlights, while their father pleaded with anyone who had any knowledge of what had happened to his wife to come forward.
“We just want our Naomi back,” Jamison said, staring straight into the camera, his voice cracking over his wife’s name.
“What a nightmare,” Lily whispered.
“I can’t imagine.” Nikki couldn’t help but remember the night of Lara’s sweet-sixteen party, where Naomi was in the kitchen, organizing the refreshments. Lara had been a little snappy and the center of attention, her two siblings dressed up in frothy silver dresses, but running through the house like the carefree kids they were.
Or had been.
No longer.
Now bone-chilling reality had destroyed the unfettered naivete and free spirits.
That much was evident in their haunted eyes.
Nikki’s heart ached for what they’d lost. Could it be retrieved and nurtured, when their mother was found?
Ifshe was found.
The night of the party, Naomi had been in control, organizing everything from food to music and the family photographs. But Nikki had also caught Knox leaving the Kittles’ property after speaking with Naomi, outside the kitchen that night, and another time Nikki had seen them together at the riding school. Naomi was obviously involved with her ex-boyfriend again, most likely romantically. Sexually.
And yet the tired-looking man on the screen, one of Pierce’s best friends, had confided that he and his wife had been planning to share their own romantic weekend. They were going to reconnect and create a new life, hopefully a son, to solidify their union and give Jamison the male heir that he so desperately longed for, so that he could claim his hereditary stake in the Kittle family tradition.
“Liar,” she said under her breath.
“Who’s a liar?” Lily stopped stroking the cat and picked up her wineglass. Still holding the stem, she pointed with her index finger at the newscast, where Jamison was just stepping away from the microphone. “Him? Well, you know what I think about Jamison Kittle, but I can’t help but feel for him, and especially the kids.”
“I know, I agree.” Jamison Kittle appeared heartbroken. The camera panned on the three girls. “You know, he told Pierce that he and Naomi were trying to get pregnant, that they hoped for a boy.”
“What if they got another girl?” Lily asked. “Maybe a basketball team of females. Then what? Even another one. And another?” She took a sip from her glass. “It happens. I know a family who had six boys before they got the girl.”
“And how old was that mother?”
“She started young. Early twenties. Maybe was even still in her teens. I don’t really know. But, to be fair, I have a friend who has four boys. Always wanted a girl, and now she’s really cool with how it allturned out. Swears she can’t imagine her life being any other way. So, you never know.”
“Naomi’s in her mid-forties,” Nikki mused.
“Not too late,” Lily said as a chyron ran along the bottom of the screen, displaying the number to call if anyone had information about Naomi’s disappearance. “You weren’t exactly a spring chicken when you had your first.”
“And it wasn’t easy,” she said, remembering the emotional pain of her miscarriages as her phone buzzed in her pocket.
A text.
From Janelle McGowan, Billy Huber’s daughter.
Janelle’s message was to the point:
Got the police okay to clean up Billy’s place.
Retrieved what I wanted (not much!) and found someone to clean it up.
The crew comes tomorrow to take all the crap away.
I went through most of it and left some of that dog’s things on the porch. Toys. Leashes. A bed. Vet records and some dog food.
