All Dressed in White (8 page)

We.
She meant her team up there in New York City. Ten years ago, any new product would have been presented to him in this office, right here at the factory, overlooking the production floor—pencil sketches on paper. He would have been the one to decide whether it was right for Ladyform.

Now he opened files on a computer. With the click of a mouse, he could review a digitized version from all angles. And a bunch of people whose names he couldn’t remember had already expressed their approval.

He clicked through images of what used to be called a sweatshirt but was now known as a “hoodie.” This one’s sleeves were equipped with built-in mittens that could be slipped off with a flick of the wrist.

The old Walter would have picked up the phone and asked the person proposing such a silly garment to explain why anyone in the world would want mittens dangling from their clothing. But instead, he hit the reply key, typed
Looks great, Charlotte
, and sent the message.

The phone rang. He recognized the number on the screen as Henry’s. That was a nice surprise. Normally, Walter was the one to initiate the phone calls.

“I knew I could find you at work,” Henry said.

His son’s voice was cheerful, but Walter knew it was his devotion to work that explained why Henry, his grandchildren, and now his ex-wife all lived on an opposite coast.

“I’m just about to head out. Your sister sent me a wonderful new design. How are Sandy and Mandy?” Henry’s two girls were named Sandra and Amanda, named for their grandmother and aunt.

“They’re a handful, both of them.”

Walter smiled as he listened to his only son chatter like a proud father. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and wondered how his life might have been different if he’d been more like his son. Henry spent just as much time with his girls as his wife, Holly, did. He coached their soccer team, filmed their dance recitals, and cooked breakfast with them every Saturday so Holly could sleep in.

I try to tell myself that times were different back when my kids were small, Walter thought, but I know I could have been a more hands-on father. “Tell them Grandpa Walt misses them,” he said, then added, “Do you think your mom’s still doing okay out there in Seattle?”

As he spoke, he rocked backed and forth in his chair. It was still hard for him to picture Sandra living alone. He had looked the house up on the Internet so he could at least have an image, but he’d only been inside once when she had invited him to Thanksgiving dinner.

Henry was silent for a few seconds. “She’s settling in, sure. That’s why I was calling. She talked to you about this television show?”

“She was very excited. Has the producer made a decision?”

“Not yet, but Amanda’s case is definitely on the radar,” Henry said. “I just wanted to make sure you were actually comfortable moving forward. I know how excited Mom can get. You shouldn’t feel obligated—”

“I don’t. As I told your mom, I’m proud of her for getting someone to revive Amanda’s case after all these years. She’s worked her heart out for this.”

“But do
you
want this?”

“Sure, if Mom thinks it will help.”

“Dad, that’s what I’m worried about. Don’t do this for Mom, out of guilt, or because you think you’ll be making something up to her. I know that not knowing what happened to Amanda is what came between you.”

Walter swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Your mother’s the most fierce and loyal woman I’ve ever known. Finding Amanda has become her life’s work. Trust me, if anyone understands the need to pour yourself into a passion, it’s me.”

“Dad, I’m not talking about work. I know you’re not always comfortable talking about your feelings, but how come we never talk about Amanda?”

“I still think about your sister every day.”

“I know you love her and miss her. We all do. But we never
talk
about her. How come you’re so sure that Amanda’s still out there?”

“I’ve never been sure. But that’s my hope.” Every night, Walter pictured his beautiful daughter and the adventures she might be having. She had always loved to draw. Might she be a painter on the Amalfi Coast? Or maybe she runs a quiet little restaurant in Nice?

“I guess anything is possible,” Henry said. “Then Mom says that Amanda would never leave us worrying like this, and that sounds absolutely on target, too. How can the two of you have such different opinions about what happened?”

Walter opened his mouth, but no words came out. He couldn’t go into it again. Then he said, “I appreciate your call, son. I’m absolutely on board about this. It’ll be nice to see you in Florida.”

“You can miss work?”

Funny, Walter thought, I agreed to do the show without even thinking about the company. “I’ll be out of the office as long as necessary.”

He knew it had taken him too long to see the truth, that he had been a terrible father, unable to connect to his children about anything other than work. My son, he thought, moved all the way to the West Coast to escape hearing about Ladyform breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Then I pitted my two daughters against each other, expecting them both to step into the family business, and not giving either sufficient assurances of my approval.

He wanted to tell Henry why he believed that Amanda was out there somewhere, living a new life under a new name. It was the only way, he thought, she could break free of me and be the person she truly wanted to be. But he just could not admit that.

“We’ll talk soon,” Henry was saying. “Okay, Dad. Bye.”

As he hung up the phone, Walter wondered whether Sandra and his children would ever realize how much he really had changed in the last few years.

18

I
t was Monday morning, which meant that Jerry and Grace were outside Laurie’s office, gossiping about their weekend activities. From Laurie’s vantage point at her desk, she gathered that Grace had been carrying on about the strikingly good looks of her latest gentleman suitor.

“And where did you find this one?” Jerry asked.

“You say that like there have been thousands,” Grace objected. “And to be clear, it’s all just flirting, nothing serious. I met Mark—this one, as you called him—at the driving range at Chelsea Piers.”

“You? Playing golf?”

“I’m a woman of many talents. The clothes are adorable, and so are the other players; what’s not to like? Speaking of surprising attributes, is that a tan I see?”

Laurie found herself paying more attention to their chatter than the memo she was drafting to the studio’s marketing team. She had also noticed some color on Jerry’s usually pale skin.

“I visited friends on Fire Island. And it’s not a tan. Unlike you, I have two settings: pasty or sunburned.”

Laurie found herself smiling as she hit the save key on her computer and rose from her desk. “Okay, are we ready for our meeting?”

Once they were settled into their usual spots—Grace and Jerry
on the sofa, Laurie in the gray swivel chair—she asked which of them wanted to start.

She was eager to hear their reports. Normally, she was the one calling the shots in the office, but when it came to social media, she was almost oblivious. She barely understood the difference between a Tweet and a status, a like and a follow. But Jerry and Grace, just a decade younger, seemed perfectly at home in the virtual world.

As a convenient way to split the work in half, Laurie had asked Jerry to see what he could find about Jeff and his half of the wedding party, while Grace researched Amanda’s friends.

Jerry seemed more than happy to go first. “Jeff has a fairly small social media imprint, just a LinkedIn profile—that’s for professional networking,” he added for Laurie’s benefit—“and a relatively quiet Facebook page. But I have been able to confirm that he is still in close contact with both Nick Young and Austin Pratt, who are both more active online, and still very much BFFs.”

Best friends forever. Between Jerry, Grace, and her son, Laurie was fluent in slang.

“Austin and Nick are still happy bachelors on the prowl, while Jeff has settled down in Brooklyn with his wife, Meghan.”

Grace looked at Jerry as if surely he must have more to say. “Is that it? I wish my job had been that simple.”

“I also called the Grand Victoria. Want me to start in on that?” Jerry interrupted.

“One at a time, guys. Grace?”

“Well, since my people are more complicated,” she said with a pleased smile, “I’ll take them one by one. Meghan White, as mentioned, is married to Jeff. She has no Facebook, Twitter, nothing. Private. The other college girlfriend was Kate Fulton. She has four kids and lives in Atlanta. Her husband is the store manager at a Home Depot. There are some old pictures on her Facebook page with Meghan and Amanda, but, as far as I can tell, she has no current
contact with any of the old gang. We’ve got Charlotte, Amanda’s sister, working at Ladyform here in New York. And her brother, Henry, is in Seattle. He’s co-owner of a winery, married with two girls, at least according to his online posts.”

Laurie was nodding. The three Colby men, all still in contact. Meghan now married to Jeff. Amanda’s family, scattered across the country. Kate the college friend, married with four children in Atlanta.

“Jerry, you heard back from the Grand Victoria?” she asked. Her biggest worry was that the resort might not let them film on the property.

“I spoke to their corporate office today. They’re eager to cooperate. Amanda’s disappearance was a public relations fiasco, so my impression is that they want to help however they can. They even maintained backups of all the security camera footage they provided to police.”

“Really? Is there a way we can see it?”

“They agreed to send it this week.”

The pieces were all falling into place. Jeff was still close to two of his groomsmen, and obviously couldn’t be any closer to Meghan. If she could just get him on board, they’d be all set. And if he didn’t say yes to Sandra, she had a plan to persuade him. Alex.

19

W
hen Laurie walked out of her building at six o’clock, Alex was standing at the curb next to his black Mercedes. Right on time, she thought. I should have known it.

“I’ve been waiting an hour.”

“Sure you have!”

Laurie had known Alex for over a year now but could still feel herself react every time she saw him. A former college basketball player standing six-four, he still had an athlete’s build. He had dark, wavy hair, a strong jaw, and blue-green eyes that shone even behind his black-rimmed glasses. There was a reason Alex Buckley had become one of television’s most sought-after trial commentators, and it wasn’t merely because of his celebrated success in the courtroom.

She gave him a quick kiss. “I can’t believe my luck that you could join me.”

Alex’s official role on
Under Suspicion
was as its host. The skills he had gained at interrogation in courtroom cross-examinations were perfect for the show’s format. In previous episodes, his participation had not begun until shortly before the cameras began to roll. But since the show’s last production, three months ago, the lines between official and unofficial had become blurred where Laurie and Alex were concerned.

He opened the car door for her, then walked around to the
opposite side and got in next to her. Before he could ask, she handed the driver Jeff and Meghan’s address in Brooklyn. “I may have mentioned that I always have time for you,” he said mildly.

“Oh, come on! I can’t remember the last time you left your office before six. I’m really surprised. How come you were available on such short notice?”

“This is what I get for dating a journalist—the third degree.” Alex laughed. “I did make a scheduled trial go away by getting most of the evidence suppressed.”

Dating
. Of course we’re dating, she thought. There’s no other word for it.

“Well, I’m not surprised you won, and I’m grateful for the help,” she said, as he reached over and took her hand. It felt completely natural.

“Okay, Laurie, what’s going on in Brooklyn?”

“Do you remember the Runaway Bride case?”