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“I don’t think he’s missing.”

I laughed. “That’s crazy.”

“I think he’s trying to manipulate us into calling the sheriff.”

“He’s not like that,” I said. Why was he being so cruel? Had he always had a low opinion of Patrick? Or was it only because he was angry about Patrick’s unrelenting desire to report the murder? Why would he attack a person who was missing? It felt like he wanted to upset me. But we were all feeling a lot of stress. It was probably just that. Stress bringing out his worst traits.

“He’s always trying to get his own way, to force everyone to see the world the way he does,” Keith said.

So he did have a low opinion of Patrick. I wondered if Emily agreed with him.

“You know I’m right,” Keith said.

I pushed myself off the couch. I put my hands on my hips. “He’s not like that! He doesn’t force people to do anything. He’s kind and caring. He’s…” I couldn’t finish, knowing Keith wasn’t completely wrong. I wanted to defend Patrick, but I wasn’t sure how.

“How long do you think he’ll keep this up?” Keith asked.

“He’s not manipulating us. He’s not like that.”

“He absolutely is.”

Without saying anything more, I went out to the front porch and sat in the bench swing that had been installed before we bought the place. I loved this simple wooden swing. The gentle movements were hypnotically calming. It helped settle the things Keith had said into a quiet but simmering pot of disappointment instead of the anger that had flashed through me while Keith was talking.

Everything was coming apart. How could we keep this house if we had deeply negative opinions of each other, if we couldn’t agree on anything? Had the shared purchase been a mistake? When we agreed on our plan, when we signed the contract, it felt like the best decision we’d made since we got married. It made us feel so lucky that we could own a second home, even if it was only half a home, forty percent of a home, thanks to a friendship I’d believed was close enough that nothing could damage it.

The front door opened and Emily stepped outside. “You okay?”

I shrugged. I pushed my foot against the floor planks and set the swing moving again. The motion continued to soothe me, calming my thoughts, helping me wait patiently for whatever Emily wanted to say. I wondered if she’d talked to Keith before coming out.

Emily leaned against the railing, facing me. “I know that wasn’t the best question. Of course you’re not okay. You’re scared and worried.”

I nodded.

“I just know he’ll be back any minute. For sure by dinnertime… or dark.”

“Because you think he’s manipulating us?”

“No! I don’t think that at all. Ignore Keith. It’s the lawyer in him talking. He’s always trying to determine motives, to look beneath the surface of what people are saying, trying to find out why they’re doing what they are. He doesn’t mean it.”

“He sounded like he meant it.”

“I know him. He’s just thinking out loud.”

“Is that what you call it?”

“He didn’t mean to imply anything negative about Patrick. He⁠—”

“He didn’t just imply, he said negative things. Patrick would never force me to do anything. And definitely not my friends. Our friends. He’s an amazing man—you know that. He… he went hiking and now he’s disappeared into thin air! I’m scared, and it’s mostly because of that note. What if he’s dead?” My question ended in a wail. I hadn’t realized how much I was thinking this horrible thought. What if he was?

You’re next.

Through the tears filling my eyes, I looked past Emily. Someone was walking toward the house. I stood and went to the railing.

“What is it?” Emily asked.

“Jordan. She’s…”

Emily turned. Together we watched Jordan move slowly, hypnotically toward her driveway. She didn’t turn in our direction, she simply trudged along the side of the road, cutting across their yard, stepping onto the driveway next door.