Silence fell between the three of them. Rebecca’s heartbeat escalated.
“But I just saw her yesterday morning,” Mrs. Walton continued. “She got her mail around one in the afternoon like she always does, and we waved like we always do.”
“Did she seem like her normal self?” Rebecca asked.
“How would you know what her normal self is like?” Mrs. Walton demanded.
Rebecca’s cheeks burned with shame. Mrs. Walton’s comment was completely warranted.
“Listen. Do you have her cell phone number, at least?” Rebecca asked.
Mrs. Walton disappeared into the shadows of the house. The tiny terrier approached and sniffed Rebecca’s ankles as Victor grumbled about how much he’d always disliked Beatrice. They didn’t have to ask where Beatrice’s husband was; it was apparent he was no longer around.
Mrs. Walton returned to the front door with her cell phone. Esme’s phone number sat on the screen in big block numbers. Rebecca took a photograph of it with her cell and thanked the woman profusely.
“Losing Larry has been hard on all of us,” Mrs. Walton finished as she pocketed her phone. “He was a marvelous and caring neighbor. He always went out of his way for you. Always smiled.” Again, she glared at Victor, who made sure not to smile back.
“We’ll just be next door if you hear anything,” Rebecca told Mrs. Walton. “Don’t hesitate to come over if you need…” She trailed off as the dog yapped violently.
Rebecca and Victor returned home. Once inside, Victor watched as Rebecca called Esme’s phone number and pressed the phone to her ear. There had to be an explanation for all of this. After all, Mrs. Walton had just seen Esme less than twenty-four hours ago.
Immediately, the call went to voicemail. Rebecca’s stomach clenched. She tried the number again, but again had no answer. Esme’s cheerful (if slightly older) voice asked the caller to leave their name and number. She would get back to them soon. Rebecca hung up.
“Something’s wrong,” Rebecca insisted.
Victor sighed and palmed his neck.
“I mean, how do we know we’re not in the middle of a serious emergency?” Rebecca demanded.
“We don’t,” Victor admitted.
“I’m calling the police.”
“She could have left the island to visit someone,” Victor suggested.
“She would have told her neighbor,” Rebecca said.
“I don’t know if your mother liked Mrs. Walton any more than I did.”
Rebecca’s nostrils flared. She turned away from him, already with her phone to her ear. What did her father know about Esme’s new life? What did Rebecca know? She felt as though she was free-falling through another dimension. The responsible thing was to call.
Within the hour, two police officers appeared on the porch. Rebecca opened the door to greet them, then shrieked with surprise when she realized they were familiar.
“Franklin? Conner?” Rebecca opened the door wider and regarded the middle-aged men, who she’d seen red-faced and out-of-their-minds drunk at beach parties in summers long past. They were now middle-aged, just as she was. Conner had lost quite a bit of his hair.
“Rebecca?” Franklin gaped in disbelief.
“I never thought I’d see the day.” Conner gave Rebecca a half smile.
“They let you two become police officers?” Rebecca beckoned for them to enter.
“We joined the force together,” Franklin explained.
“At twenty-four,” Conner offered. He placed his hands on his sides and surveyed the living room. Victor sat on the piano bench and nodded dully. Conner’s smile dropped.
Franklin eyed Rebecca’s hand. “I see you’re married. We both are, too.”
“And too many kids between us,” Conner noted with a laugh. “They just kept coming.”