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“Were you napping?”
“I just meant to lie down, but I guess I fell asleep. I dreamed Olivia was still alive.”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. I had dreams like that after your Gramma Annie died. I was always sorry to wake up.”
“Yeah. Like that.” Barbara scruffs a hand through her hair and thinks about what dream-Olivia was saying when the phone woke her. Like her passing thought about the van in the security footage, it seems it might be important. Dutch would know, she thinks. Dutch would have this shit all figured out.
“—Holly?”
“What?”
“I asked if you’ve located Holly yet. Or if she’s been back in touch.”
“No, huh-uh, not yet.” She still has no intention of telling Tanya about her fears. Maybe after J gets back, but not until.
“She’s probably upstate, taking care of her mother’s affairs.” Tanya lowers her voice. “I’d never say it to Holly, but Charlotte Gibney didn’t die of Covid, she died of stupidity.”
Barbara has to smile at that. “I think Holly knows, Mom.”
“I called to tell you I’m meeting your dad for dinner. At a fancy-schmancy restaurant.”
“Nice!” Barbara says. “Which one?”
Tanya tells her, but Barbara hardly hears. She feels like a stroke of lightning has gone off in her head.
Which one?
“—the actual date.”
“Okay, right.”
Tanya laughs. “Did you even hear me? I said it’s an early anniversary dinner because he has to be away on the actual date. There’s money for takeout if you want it, just check the kitchen draw—”
“Have a good time, Mom. I have to go. Love you.”
“Love you, t—”
But Barbara ends the call and scrolls back through her texts to and from Holly. Here it is: Which one?
Barbara asked that because she knew two of the men in the picture Holly sent her. One was Cary Dressler, the dishy young guy all the girls in her PE class were crushing on. The other was Professor Harris. She saw him washing his car when she went to Emily Harris, hoping for an introduction to Olivia Kingsbury. On that warm winter day both of the Harris garage bays were open, and in the other one there had been a van. Had he seen her looking at it, and made haste to close the garage door? To hide it?
Bullshit. You’re making that up.
Maybe, but now she knows what Olivia was about to say when her mother’s call woke her up. She knows because Olivia actually said it: Emily never lost that smile of hers, but her eyes… her eyes looked like she wanted to kill him.
Jorge Castro, the first of the disappearances.
“You’re crazy,” Barbara whispers to herself. “Just because he knew Cary Dressler… and she knew Castro… and didn’t like him…”
Did I tell you I saw him shortly before he disappeared?
“You’re crazy,” Barbara repeats. “They’re old.”
But… Bonnie Dahl. The last of the disappearances. Could it be…?
She hurries into Jerome’s office, powers up his computer, and googles what she wants. Then she calls Marie Duchamp.
“Do you remember the time Olivia told us about the Harrises’ Christmas party? How they sent Santas around to hand out snacks and beer?”
