The Woman Next Door (29 page)

Finding nothing at all on the first floor, they went up the stairs. They looked in Jordie’s room, then Lee and Karen’s. They checked the twins’ room, Julie’s room, and all of the bathrooms. They checked closets. They checked the attic. They checked the basement.

When they reached the backyard, Gretchen joined them. They were standing there talking about where the boy might be when Karen pulled up. Climbing from the car, she left a tentative hand on the door. “What’s wrong?”

Amanda approached her, staying calm. “Jordie isn’t at school. He checked in for homeroom period, but he left sometime after that. We searched the school. I thought maybe he was here.”

Karen was pale, though whether more so than usual was hard to tell. She stared blankly at Amanda, shifting the blank stare to Russ when he joined them, then Gretchen.

Amanda didn’t know what to make of her reaction. Given what had happened the week before, if Jordie were
her
child, she would be terrified. Karen looked numb, though Amanda didn’t know whether it was because she was frightened and didn’t know what to do first, or because she simply didn’t know why they were making this into a big deal.

Feeling guilty about the possibility that she had indeed jumped to conclusions, Amanda said, “I tried calling you. I tried calling Lee. I left messages. I was worried.”

“Why?” Karen asked.

“Jordie’s taken Quinn’s death hard.”

“But Jordie was only one of Quinn’s friends,” Karen said in that same frozen way. “Why do you assume Quinn’s death would hit
him harder than anyone else? Why do you assume the worst? Why did you leave school and drive all the way here?”

“Karen, this is your son. He’s my neighbor. I know him. I’m concerned.”

Karen darted glances at Russ and Gretchen before returning to Amanda. Less frozen now, she looked almost angry. “Well, there’s no need for worry,” she declared. “Jordie’s fine. He’s doing fine with Quinn’s death. I talked with him about it. He’s doing fine.”

If Jordie was fine, Karen was in denial. Amanda would put money on that.

Russ would, too, judging from the challenge in his voice. “Do you know where he is?”

“Actually, yes,” Karen said. “He’s with Lee.” She reached into the car, pulled her keys from the ignition, and shut the door.

Amanda was startled. “In the middle of the school day? Did Lee pick him up? Did he tell anyone at school?”

Karen set off for the house. “I don’t know what Lee did. I wasn’t there. But if Jordie isn’t at school, he’s with his father.”

“Did they plan that?”

“Yes. They did. I’m sure Jordie just needed to talk.” She kept going for several seconds, then turned suddenly with a look of horror. Again, her eyes touched on the other two before homing in on Amanda. “You don’t have the whole
school
out looking for him, do you?”

“No.”

“Ahh. Thank God. That’s the last thing we need, everyone thinking he’s on the verge of committing suicide when he’s perfectly fine.” She went on toward the house. “I’ll call Lee. I’m sure he did tell someone, and it’s a screwup on the school’s end. I’ve worked there enough to know how awful they are with things like this.”

Over her shoulder, now, she said, “Jordie is fine. Go back and tell everyone that he’s
fine.”

***

Jordie wasn’t with his father, though it was another hour and four cigarettes before Karen learned it. It took her that long to get through to Lee. The good news was that she didn’t have to wonder if Lee was with the widow, since Karen had been with the widow herself at the time in question. The bad news was that Jordie was missing.

“So, where is he?” Lee asked angrily.

“I’m sure he’s with friends,” Karen said, because it had to be that. This wouldn’t be the first time Jordie had gone off with friends without telling Karen or Lee. He’d never done it during school before, but that was part of growing up, growing bolder, growing defiant and rebellious. He was with friends. No doubt about it.

“Did Amanda check that out?” Lee asked. “Did she look to see if any other kids were missing?”

“I assume she did.”

“Assume? You didn’t ask? That would have been the first thing I’d have asked.”

“
You
didn’t ask anything, because
you
weren’t in the office. Where were you?”

“Out to lunch.”

“The truth at last,” Karen muttered.

“What in the hell does that mean?”

It meant that he was blind to her needs and to those of their children, and unaware of the toll that their private war was starting to take on all of them. It meant that when a man’s credit card was charged for a visit to an obstetrician, and that man paid the bill
even when the man’s wife hadn’t visited said obstetrician, there were answers to be had. But this wasn’t the time. First things first.

“I’m just worried about Jordie,” she said. “I’ll start calling his friends.”

“Let me know one way or the other, will you?”

Karen agreed, but it wasn’t until another hour had passed that she was able to make any calls. She had to wait until the school bus had deposited Julie and the twins at the cul-de-sac, before knowing that Jordie’s friends who didn’t have practice would be trickling home—and that was assuming they went home as opposed to somewhere else.

She managed to reach a few, but Jordie wasn’t with them. They all thought he had gone home sick.

Karen had horrible visions, not the least of which was that the police had picked Jordie up and were holding him in jail. It was absurd, of course. They couldn’t possibly know about the knife.

Frightened now, she called Lee again. “I have a bad feeling.”

“That’s not unusual. You’re a worrier.”

“This is different. He’s been strange lately.”

“He’s an adolescent. That’s how adolescents act.”

“What if it isn’t that? What if it’s something else?”

She heard a long silence, a muttered curse, a resigned sigh. “Fine. I’ll come home. Make more calls, will ya? He has to be somewhere.”

***

Amanda couldn’t let it go. She didn’t think Jordie was with Lee. She didn’t think Karen knew
where
he was. She had worked with parents who refused to see that their children had serious problems. Quinn Davis’s parents were a prime example.

Haunted by that thought, Amanda did her detective work as quietly
as possible. She learned that Jordie had been at school until ten that morning, but that no one had seen him since. She kept at it in a nonchalant way, asking a friend here, another there, the baseball coach, his Spanish teacher. By the time she exhausted her resources, it was nearly five. She gave Karen a call.

Karen said a fast, frightened hello.

“It’s me,” Amanda advised. “Has he shown up?”

There was a frustrated release of breath. “No.” And a tense confession. “He wasn’t with Lee after all. I must have confused it with another day. We figure he’s with friends.”

Amanda didn’t figure that at all. She felt an awful dread. “Have you called the police?”

“The police? Why would we call them?”

“To tell them Jordie’s missing.”

“He hasn’t been gone long enough to be considered a missing person.”

“That may be true to the letter of the law, but this is a small town,” Amanda reasoned. “The police know about Quinn. They might—”

“This isn’t the same,” Karen cut in. “This isn’t the same at all. Jordie hasn’t done that. He wouldn’t do that. Not Jordie.”

Amanda gentled her tone. “I know. But there are other ways of expressing grief. If he’s really upset and not thinking straight—”

“Why are you
harping
on this, Amanda? You’re getting all worked up, and he’s probably just off with friends. If that’s the case, you can be sure he isn’t in Woodley If he’s with friends, they’d be fooling around in Darien or Greenwich, even Manhattan. So what would calling the local police accomplish, besides getting a report of the search printed in the papers next week and mortifying Jordie? That was what did it to Quinn. Let’s face it. That article drove him to kill himself. If he hadn’t been publicly humiliated,
he’d be alive today. Why are you carrying on about the police? I don’t know what you want.”

Amanda was stunned. She didn’t think that a single suggestion was “carrying on.” But Karen was clearly upset. So she responded calmly. “I’m concerned about Jordie.”

“And I appreciate that,” Karen said. “But we have to remember where you’re coming from. You weren’t able to save Quinn, so you’re feeling guilty. Guilty and—and gun-shy. You’re jumpy. You’re making something out of nothing. I understand this, Amanda. But Jordie’s all right. I’m telling you. He’s all right.”

***

Still, Amanda couldn’t let it go. Yes, she felt guilty about not helping Quinn, but the stakes with Jordie were higher. Totally aside from living two doors away from his family, she knew him. She had counseled him. So perhaps she was imagining a greater problem than there was. But with the worst-case scenario having proven a reality with Quinn, she couldn’t just sit back and do nothing.

As soon as she finished talking with Karen, she left school. Once she was in her car, there was no doubt whom she needed to call. It didn’t matter that she’d left the house in a huff this morning, or that she and Graham hadn’t talked all day. He had a stake in Jordie, too. He had a rapport with the boy that was independent of Karen and Lee. He was the one whose opinion Amanda valued most.

He wasn’t in the office, but she reached him on his cell phone. After explaining the situation, she asked, “Do you think I’m getting alarmed over nothing?”

To her relief, Graham was nowhere near as complacent as Karen and Lee. “No. You know Jordie. So do I. If Karen and Lee aren’t worried, they should be. I sure would be if he was my kid.”

Amanda felt a tiny fist squeeze her heart. In the space of an instant,
she was back to picturing their baby, desperate to hold it in her arms, desperate to pass it to Graham and see the light in his eyes.

With an effort, she put the image aside. “I don’t understand Karen. How can she just wait?”

“It isn’t just her. It’s Lee, too. Maybe they feel that not knowing is better than knowing the worst.”

Amanda could identify with that. Hadn’t she felt that way about Graham at times? Wasn’t it one of the reasons she hadn’t confronted him? Hadn’t pushed? Hadn’t made him answer her questions?

“But if the worst can be prevented?” she asked, forcing herself to focus on Jordie again. “I’m going over there now. Maybe I can convince them to do something. If you were Jordie and you were going through a rough time, where would you be?”

“Not with friends,” Graham replied. “Not Jordie. He’s on the fringe of the group. I can’t imagine him finding solace with friends, unless there’s a whole other group we know nothing about.”

Losers,
Amanda was thinking.

“Losers,” Graham said. “Cruel term, but they’re the ones who’d look up to Jordie.”

Amanda knew the school population and who palled around with whom. “I haven’t seen Jordie with any kids but the usual ones. So where would you go if you were him and you were upset?” She knew where she’d go if she were Jordie. She would head for the woods. He liked walking there. He had told her that. He liked the darkness and the mystery. He liked the silence. The peace.

Graham didn’t venture a guess. Rather, he said, “I’m on my way to an appointment in Danbury but my gut tells me I should turn around and meet you at home.”

Amanda would have given him a hug if he’d been there. They
had always been of like mind in things like this. He was concerned where concern was due. It was one of the things she loved about him. “Jordie may be safe and sound, in which case we’ll laugh about this later. But I’d rather be safe than sorry. Quinn’s suicide is too real to me to take anything for granted. I don’t want to take chances with Jordie—and please don’t remind me that I’m supposed to keep a professional distance. It would be impossible for me to do that here.”

“I know,” Graham said quietly. “That’s one of the things I love about you.”

Tears came to her eyes. It was a minute before she managed a whispered, “Thank you,” and another minute before she would have been able to say more, but by that time, broken static said they were losing the connection. She barely heard Graham tell her that he would see her at home, when the line went still and the main menu appeared on the face of her phone.

She drove on, as eager to see her husband as she was to talk with Karen and Lee. When she arrived at the cul-de-sac, the only sign of anything even vaguely amiss was a sky full of clouds overshadowing the lushness of May. The Cotter twins sped around the circle on their scooters, while Julie rode more sedately on her new bike with its training wheels. At the Langes’, Tommy was tossing a ball into the pitch-back that was propped against the garage door, while Russ coached on the side.

Amanda parked and started toward them. Russ met her halfway between the houses.

“Anything doing?” he asked in a voice low enough that his son wouldn’t hear.

“Not yet.” She glanced at the Cotters’ house. For all outward appearances, there was nothing at all amiss.

“About before, over at Gretchen’s,” Russ murmured, turning his
back on his son and lowering his head. “I know it probably looked weird, my being there. I’d just gone to ask how she was feeling, and then you came along. I couldn’t have been inside more than five minutes.”

“Look at me, Amanda!” Julie Cotter called, and they both looked her way. Continuing to pedal, but keeping her widened eyes on the sidewalk before her, she took both hands off the handlebar for a fraction of a second. Grabbing hold again, she looked up and grinned triumphantly.

“Look at you!” Amanda told her. “Good girl!” More quietly, she asked Russ, “Did you father that baby?”

“No.”

“Then there’s no reason I should question your being there. Besides, all that is about birth. This isn’t.” Worriedly, she glanced at the Cotters’ front door. “They’re so afraid of embarrassment.”

“If it were me, I’d have called in the troops.”

“You and Gray, both. And me. I’m going over to see if I can light a spark.” Giving his arm a squeeze, she set off. She went around to the back door and let herself in. Karen was on the phone. Lee was leaning against the counter with his arms folded and his ankles crossed.