All the Little Liars (11 page)

She stopped herself with a hiccuping sob. Aubrey put his arm around her, and something about the gesture told me that Emily had said this many, many times in the past few days, and that Aubrey had tried to console her just as often. “Ten minutes cost me my daughter,” Emily said.

There was nothing to say to rebut that. We were all missing children, too. I guess it seemed worse for Emily and Aubrey since their child was so young, so unable to defend herself. Against whom? We didn't know. No one knew why they were missing. No one knew why Tammy Ribble was dead. Why hadn't Josh and Joss's car been found?

“I am so sorry,” I said, and I got up to leave. My stomach twinged, and I put my hand to it.

“Are you all right?” George asked.

“I'll be fine,” I said. It wasn't the time to talk about my pregnancy.

Had Jessamyn told us everything she knew? I wondered. Ordinarily, I would not have spoken, because her parents were there and knew her best. But this wasn't an ordinary time. “Jessamyn,” I said, my hand on the doorknob. “You know how crucial it is that you tell us every little thing.”

I could see the panic in her eyes. She looked down, and I thought she was steeling herself to say something. “I just remembered that while we were on the phone, me and Joss, Joss said something about Clayton.”

“Who?” Emily said, blank-faced.

“Clayton,” Jessamyn said, the impatience back in her voice. “Clayton Harrison. Marlea's brother.”

I didn't blame Sarah Washington for not wanting to cast any suspicion Clayton Harrison's way, if his was the car she'd seen turning in to the soccer parking lot.

Everyone knew Clayton Harrison.

 

Chapter Eight

Every town has a boy like Clayton, I suppose. His parents, Dan and Karina, had money, both earned and inherited, and they let it flow down to Clayton without attaching any responsibility to it. Clayton was handsome, reckless, and constantly in trouble … when he wasn't leading the high school baseball team to victory, or being elected to the homecoming court. He'd wrecked his first car, only to be presented with another one. He drank and ran into ditches. Dan Harrison had bought Clayton's way out of a drunk-driving charge, a persistent rumor had it. Even worse, Clayton was reputed to be the father of a child whose fifteen-year-old mother had given the baby up for adoption … after Clayton had broken up with her in a text message. That couldn't be considered entirely Clayton's fault, exactly—but it didn't add to his virtues, either.

Clayton was a charming liar. This was his senior year in high school, and he was definitely Lawrenceton High's alpha male. His girlfriend of the past year, Connie Bell, was a beautiful, timid girl, also from a well-to-do family. She'd always seemed overshadowed by her boyfriend.

And Clayton was the big brother of Marlea, whose nasty Facebook message we'd just read.

This new piece of information stunned us all into silence. Jessamyn looked both scared and relieved of a burden. George spoke first. “Did Joss say if Clayton was in the car with him? Or did Clayton follow them? Or maybe he met them by chance? What did she say, exactly?”

“I don't know,” Jessamyn said. She was about to cry. “Joss just checked that I'd gotten a ride home, and then she said Clayton was there. Something like, ‘There's Clayton, yuck,' or something. She doesn't like him.”

“Why didn't you tell us this right away?” Beth said, trying as hard as she could to sound calm.

“Because you told all of us never to hang around with Clayton,” Jessamyn said. “And we didn't. I figured he was in his own car. Connie's always with him.”

The Scotts looked blank.

“That's Connie Bell,” I said. “Clayton's girlfriend. They're both seniors.”

They didn't look enlightened.

“Clayton's dad owns Harrison Timber and Land,” I explained. “Connie's dad is the president of State Pride Bank.”

“And why should this matter?” Aubrey said.

The atmosphere felt too thick in the small, crowded bedroom. If I'd thought the living room was packed, now I knew it hadn't been. I wanted to throw open the door and gulp in air. “It matters because those are both families with a lot of money and power and you can't go poke them with a stick,” I said. “First thing, we need to be sure that Clayton is home, that he's safe and sound.”

“I'll call Karina again,” Beth said, but you could tell the idea didn't sit well.

“No, let me,” I said. “She's already defensive, with you.”

Beth nodded.

I looked at Karina's number on Beth's Contacts list and punched it in.

I switched the phone to speaker as it rang.

“Hello?” Karina Harrison said. I could recognize her piercing voice, from the occasions she'd come into the library. She was on the citizens' advisory board for the library. She'd tried to get the Harry Potter books banned.

“Karina,” I said, “this is Aurora Teagarden. Phillip's sister. How is Clayton?”

“Fine,” Karina said cautiously, after a significant pause. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I just learned Clayton met up with our missing kids on the day they vanished,” I said bluntly. “And I want to know what happened, straight from Clayton's mouth. Or maybe I could talk to Marlea, since she was at the soccer field, too.”

This time the pause was longer.

“Marlea's gone to stay with my mother in Savannah,” Karina said. “I just talked to her about her Facebook posting. I'll ask Clayton about who he saw that afternoon when he walks in the door. I'm not sure where he is at the moment.”

We all looked around at each other. Really?

I said, “I find that hard to believe. Everyone is in an uproar about our missing kids, and you don't know where your son is
at the moment
? Bull. We need to talk to him, Karina. Now, or at the police station.”

That tripped a wire. “No,” Karina said, and she was clearly panicking. “You don't understand. If you tell the police, my son is in danger.”

“What do you mean?” I said.

“He's been kidnapped. And since your brother and the Finstermeyer kids are missing, maybe they're the ones who did this! Did you think about that?”

I don't know how anyone else in the room felt, but I was beyond stunned. George spoke for the first time. “Karina, our kids have also been kidnapped. You can't seriously believe Josh and Joss, not to mention Liza, and someone new to town like Phillip, plotted and planned to abduct Clayton in broad daylight and ask you for ransom. They're victims, too. You need to call the police, so they'll know to look for Clayton's car.”

“Who's that? George?” Karina asked. “You've been listening in?”

“Yep.”

“No, no, no. Clayton will be lost if we bring in anyone. The kidnappers told us so. We're paying soon. We'll get him back. I'm begging you.” She was pleading from her heart; at least, it sounded like that to me.

“We'll think about it.” I hung up.

Beth was incandescent with rage. “She didn't tell the police. Clayton's gone too, and she didn't tell the police.”

“I can understand that,” I said slowly. “They've gotten a ransom demand. It's their son's life. But none of you have gotten a ransom demand, right? I sure haven't. My father hasn't.”

All the adults shook their heads. “But we hardly have as much money as the Harrisons,” George said. “No sane person would take our kids and expect to be paid any big sum.”

Jessamyn looked from face to face, terrified, and began to cry out loud. The sound was almost unendurable.

Beth said, “Jessamyn, do
not
say anything about this, either in person or on social media. Not to your best friend. Not to anyone.” She hugged her daughter to take the sting out of her words.

“Okay,” Jessamyn said. “But all the people who are looking for my brother and sister … shouldn't they know about this?”

Beth thought hard. “I don't see that it'll make any difference,” she said finally. “The kids are still missing. But … it would make more sense, wouldn't it, if all of us had gotten demands? I know the Harrisons are rich, but the rest of us have at least some money, too.”

None of us knew what to make of Karina's news. It seemed Lawrenceton had one more missing kid.

Was this a kidnapping? Or was this a voluntary disappearance? Though I didn't believe it for a minute, Karina ostensibly thought it possible that Joss, Josh, and Phillip had conspired to kidnap Clayton and hold him for ransom. If I swallowed that, and I really couldn't, what about Liza? How could she possibly be a part of all this?

On the other hand, how could three vigorous and active teenagers (possibly four, with Clayton's being included) and an eleven-year-old girl be abducted? Wouldn't it take a lot of people to coerce them or force them?

Phillip was not a brawler, but he was also not one to stand down from a challenge. I might not know Phillip as well as if we'd grown up together, but I knew my brother well enough to be sure I was right about that.

I left the Finstermeyer house both baffled and depressed. I felt like I'd been in Joss and Jessamyn's room for a whole day, but in fact it had been only an hour and a half.

And I felt very queasy.

On the way home, I had to open the driver's door at a stop sign and lean out so I could throw up. I was glad no one was behind me, but by that time, it was not a major consideration.

My father had parked my car right in the middle of the carport, so I had to park on the driveway. I walked to the front door, feeling as though I were a hundred years old.

Robin, looking unhappy, was sitting at the kitchen counter with my dad. A row of casserole dishes cluttered the table. Friends had brought food. That proved we were in a crisis.

Dad was writing in a little notebook. Robin looked up as I closed the front door. He said instantly, “Roe, you're going to lie down.” I didn't protest, but went to stretch out on the couch. Robin brought me some peanut butter crackers and water. I ate slowly, and drank the water sip by sip. Gradually, I felt better.

“What did the police tell you?” I asked my father. “You sure were there a long time.”

“Turned out they wanted to ask me some questions about Phillip,” Dad said. “About him running away. About his mother.” He snorted.

My father looked angry and uneasy. That wasn't good. There was something he wasn't telling us, but at the moment I hardly cared. I wondered if he'd expected the police would give him a rundown on all the information they'd gathered. I felt too despondent to respond to his indignation or to figure out what he was hiding. Robin sat on the floor beside me and took my hand. Poor Robin. I was willing to bet that few couples had so much drama so early in their marriage. He was weathering it well.

When my father went back to the guest bedroom, Robin said, “What happened at Beth's?”

I told him what Jessamyn had said, but I had to hold back a few things. With Dad within eavesdropping distance, I couldn't tell Robin about the ransom demand for Clayton Harrison. My father would go straight to the police with it, and I wasn't convinced that was the right thing to do. Karina had seemed so desperate. In my opinion, she genuinely believed Clayton's life was in peril.

“And now I have to think about supper,” I said. Drearily.

“We can go out.”

“No, we've got so much food in the refrigerator. It will be easier to heat it up.”

After asking if I needed help, Robin told me that he was going into his office for a while to answer e-mails. He'd had enough real drama for a while, I suspected, and needed to refresh himself with some fictional drama. I didn't blame him.

I loaded the dishwasher and checked the refrigerator for an evening meal. It seemed ridiculous to think of such a thing when we were all so anxious, but it had to be done. To my huge relief, I found a pan of lasagna crowding the second shelf. And I had lettuce and tomatoes for a salad. And some garlic bread in the freezer? Yes. There, supper was determined. I turned on the oven to preheat.

Collapsing onto the couch, I felt as if I were a million years old. I dragged myself to my feet after a few minutes to feed Moosie, who rubbed against my legs in a way that said,
Notice me!
Poor cat. She hadn't gotten her quota of attention in days.

My dad popped out of the guest bedroom after ten minutes of peace. He threw himself in the chair across from me. He said, “The police have no idea at all what they're doing.”

“Surely you don't think they're dragging their feet,” I said, perversely determined to defend the local law enforcement contingent. “You know they want to find Phillip and Josh and Joss and Liza as much as we want to.”

“
No one
wants to find Phillip as much as me.”

“Uh-huh,” I said.

“You doubt that?” He was incredulous.

If I hadn't been so tired, I would have said, “You love Phillip so much you let him walk in on you cheating. You love him so much that you made his mom crazy enough to run away.”

But I was too tired to say all this, though I thought it. Probably I wasn't being fair to my father in some way. Dad hadn't planned Phillip's unexpected arrival during Dad's little sex party, I suppose, and Dad hadn't actually forced his wife to leave.

“Have you heard from Betty Jo?” I asked, instead. “Can you get in touch with her? Can you tell her about Phillip?”

“You know she ran off with some man. We don't exactly talk.”

“I wonder why she hasn't let Phillip know where she was, before this?”

“She just told me to tell him she'd call. She didn't tell me where she was going,” my father pointed out. “Just like when Phillip lit off. We didn't know where he was until I heard from you. And now I don't know where he is, again.”