I stood in the grass at the side of the path and watched people make their way to the lodge. Their expressions were all grim, showing their surprise.
I received a few sympathetic nods. But no one asked me a question or made a comment or said anything at all. I don’t know why I stood there, still as a statue. I guess I was in no hurry to go back to my parents’ room, back to the sadness and the shock and worry about what happened to my sister.
“Maybe she just got cold feet,” I overheard my cousin Amy say as she passed by me. “I never thought that boy was right for her.”
Everyone seemed to be talking at once, all in hushed tones.
“I thought this only happens in the movies.”
“Couldn’t she have decided to split before we paid all that money to fly out here?”
“Poor girl. I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now.”
“So many bad omens . . .”
I turned to see who was saying that. It was Marissa’s friend Olivia. She was walking with Marissa’s other friend Dani. Both in their lilac dresses. Dani had her arm around Olivia’s waist, as if she needed the support.
“The feathers,” Olivia said. “Coming out of that guy’s mouth. And then the squirrels . . .” Her voice faded out as she passed.
“Harmony, are you okay?”
I turned to see Uncle Kenny beside me. Max gave me a playful shove and ran off. Did the kid really expect me to play tag with him?
“Anything I can do?” Kenny asked.
I shook my head. “Thanks, Uncle Kenny. But—”
“Your parents must be frantic,” he said.
I was touched that he was being so sympathetic and kind. But then he added, “Not to mention the expense. This must have set your dad back at least thirty thousand big ones. And all for nothing.” He shook his head and did a tsk-tsk.
Uncle Kenny never changes.
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” he said. Then he hurried after Max, who had decided to roll in the tall grass, despite the problem of getting grass stains on his wedding tuxedo.
He’s a devil, I thought. But a lovable one.
And then a shadow rolled over me, and there stood Grandpa Bud. Standing a little too close, the way he always does. Wiping sweat off his forehead with one hand. His eyes locked on mine.
“Grandpa Bud—” I started.
But he brought his face up close to mine, so close our noses were almost touching. And he stared hard, as if peering into my soul, trying to penetrate my brain.
“Harmony—what did you do?”
Twenty-Six
“N-no,” I stammered. I stumbled back. I lowered my gaze. His stare was burning me. “No, I didn’t, Grandpa Bud. I didn’t do anything.”
He didn’t move. He shielded his eyes from the sun with one hand and continued to lock his gaze on me. “Harmony—”
“I swear,” I insisted. “Yes, I did those tricks last night. But I never—would never do anything to stop Marissa’s wedding.”
He still didn’t move.
“I’m telling the truth,” I said. “I had nothing to do with this, Grandpa. I . . . I don’t know what happened to Marissa. But . . . we’re all very frightened.”
For the first time, I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. My throat tightened. I had to force back the sobs that threatened to erupt.
Grandpa Bud seemed satisfied. He took a step back, too. “Walk with me to the lodge?”
I took his arm. We started to walk. The tears felt hot on my cheeks. I held my breath to keep from crying.
He patted my hand. “Marissa will be okay,” he said. “She’s a Fear. Like you and me. We’re not easy people, but we’re resilient.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. I walked my grandfather to the lodge. Everyone seemed to be gathering in the dining hall. I could see that the staff had begun to serve lunch.
That food was for the reception, I thought. And more tears began to slide down my face.
I wiped them off before I entered my parents’ room. Mom was still in the armchair beside the couch. She had let her hair down and had a glass of brown liquid raised in one hand, probably scotch.
Robby sat hunched in a stiff-backed chair by the coffee table. He had his phone in his hands, but he wasn’t using it. He kept his head down and didn’t even look up when I walked in.
Dad and Doug stood behind the couch. They seemed to be in the middle of a heated discussion. Dad was gesturing with both hands. Doug had removed his tux’s bow tie, and his shirt was open.
“Can you deny it?” Dad boomed. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me something wasn’t going on between you two when you arrived?” His voice cracked on the last word. He swatted a fly off one cheek.
Doug shrugged his broad shoulders. He looked like he was ready to burst out of his tux, just explode from it. “What do you want me to say?”
Mom took a long sip of her drink. I stepped up beside her chair and squeezed her hand.
Dad hesitated. “I . . . I just want you to tell us if you know anything. If you can help explain—”
“Look,” Doug said. “We weren’t getting along, okay? But it was no big deal. Marissa always doubted everything. She was always thinking and rethinking. You know.”
Dad nodded but didn’t reply.
“So she said she was having second thoughts,” Doug continued.
“And you didn’t feel you should tell us?” Dad’s voice rose to a shrill high note.
Doug shook his head. “Everyone knows that brides get the jitters. Maybe have their doubts. But . . . they always go through with the wedding.” He swallowed and lowered his gaze.
Dad shook his head. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped. He wiped a tear from one eye.
And for the first time since Marissa disappeared, I thought of that wedding at this lodge all those years ago, and the sisters who went over the cliff.
This is a cursed place, Grandpa Bud had said.
No. No way. Marissa did not go over the cliff. Marissa drove away. Or walked. Or flew. But Marissa did not go over the cliff.
Dad gripped the back of the couch with both hands. “Doug, are you sure you didn’t say something to Marissa to make her run away?”
Doug rolled his eyes. “Of course not. I told her I loved her. I told her I’d do everything to make sure our marriage worked. I made her believe me. I did.”
Dad made a choking sound. “If you made her believe you, why is she gone?”
Doug shut his eyes. “I can’t answer that. She . . . she was talking about our honeymoon. . . . You know. Our trip this fall. She . . . seemed really excited about it. I thought . . . I thought . . .”
His voice caught in his throat. He covered his face with both hands. His shoulders heaved up and down. I could tell he was crying.
Dad stepped forward and patted Doug on the shoulder. He turned to me with a helpless expression on his face. Dad isn’t good around people who are crying.
Mom raised her glass, and he hurried to the bar to fill it. “We called the local police,” she said to me. “They should be here soon.”
And something about those words made me remember the note.
How could I have forgotten it all this time?
I guess all the emotion, all the shock and tension just froze my brain. I had stuffed it into the little bag I planned to carry at the wedding. I pulled it out and unfolded it.
“Look,” I said. “I’m sorry. I found this. I meant to show it to you.”
Doug had dropped onto the couch. He still had his head in his hands. He didn’t move, but Dad and Robby walked over to me.
I held up the envelope. “I . . . I found this on the floor in Marissa’s room as I was leaving.”
Dad took it from me. He and Robby studied my scribbled name on the back, in red ballpoint ink. Dad’s hand trembled as he pulled out the note, also in red ink.
DON’T LOOK FOR ME
“That’s not Marissa’s handwriting,??
? Dad said. He squinted at it, brought it closer to his face. I could see his eyes move as he read the words again and again.
“Whoa. Wait a minute,” Robby said. He took the note from Dad’s hand. “Weird.”
“What’s weird?” I asked.
Robby studied it. “Nikki always writes in red ballpoint. It’s sort of her thing. And the writing . . . Sometimes she prints like that.”
“So?” I shook my head. “Nikki writes in red ink? So what? It couldn’t be Nikki. Nikki isn’t here, remember? And why would Nikki write a note for Marissa and address it to me?”
“Good question,” Robby said. He handed the note back to me. “I’m just saying.”
Dad rubbed his chin. “Save it for the police,” he told me. “I guess it’s too late for fingerprints. We’ve all handled it.”
I was watching Robby. He was thinking so hard, I swear his face was turning red with the effort.
I poked him. “You don’t think that Nikki—”
“No. But let’s find out.” He raised the phone. “I’ll call her. It’s crazy. But I just want to call and make sure.”
He punched in the number. “I’ll put it on speaker,” he said.
The number started to ring.
We all froze in place. Mom set down her drink. Doug raised his head and watched.
The phone rang again. Again.
Four rings. Five. Six rings.
Robby lowered the phone. “She isn’t answering,” he murmured.
The phone rang one more time. Then we heard a click. And Nikki’s voice: “Hey.”
“Nikki?” Robby raised the phone. “Where are you?”
Twenty-Seven
“Huh? I’m home,” she said. “How was the wedding? Was it perfect? How did Marissa look?”
Robby hesitated. “Well . . . there wasn’t a wedding, Nikki. It didn’t happen.”
“Are you joking? You’re not serious.”
“I’m serious,” Robby said. “Marissa left. She . . . disappeared.”
“Ohmigod,” we heard Nikki cry. “Ohmigod. That’s horrible.” A long silence. “Robby, is everyone okay?”
“We’re trying to deal with it,” Robby said. “I think we’re all in shock.”
“Ohmigod,” Nikki repeated. “I don’t believe it. She just left? She didn’t tell anyone?”
“We don’t know what to think,” Robby said. “Dad called the police. But we don’t have a clue.”
“How horrible.”
“Listen, Nikki, are you really at home?”
“Of course I’m at home,” she snapped. “Why do you keep asking me that question? Actually, my mom is calling me now. From the kitchen. I’d better go. But call me when you know anything, okay? Call me when you find her.”
“Okay, I will,” Robby said. But Nikki had already clicked off.
Robby pocketed the phone and turned to Dad. “You heard. She’s at home.”
Dad raised the envelope with the note inside. “Where are the police?” he said. “I have to show this to them.”
And as he said that, two words flashed into my head. Aiden Murray.
It was like my brain had been put in a deep freeze. Only one thought thawed at a time. I should have remembered Aiden immediately.
What was wrong with me?
I realized I wasn’t thinking clearly because I was more upset than I was allowing myself to show. Marissa and I aren’t the closest sisters in the world, but I care about her. I love her. And her disappearing without a trace, without a word, was too upsetting for me to deal with.
But now I was thinking clearly. Aiden Murray.
He acted so weird last night. So mysterious and cold. He had to have something to do with Marissa’s disappearance.
Aiden was not invited. He had no business being here—except to cause trouble.
I started to the door. “Harmony, where are you going?” Mom called. Her voice sounded deeper, and she spoke slowly. The whiskey was having its effect.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” I said. “I—I have to find someone.”
I opened the door and bumped into Uncle Kenny.
“Hey,” he murmured. Then he edged past me. “Anything I can do?” he asked my parents. “Anyone you want me to call? Can I bring you some food?”
I didn’t wait to hear their answers. I closed the door behind me, and turned down the hall. One more turn and a short stairway led me to the 200 row of rooms.
My conversation last night with Aiden ran through my mind as I strode toward room 237. It was not a friendly conversation.
This time I wouldn’t let him get away with that. This time I would demand answers.
I took a deep breath and pounded hard on the door to his room. “Aiden, it’s me,” I shouted. “Open up. I need to talk to you.”
I heard muffled voices from inside the room.
“Aiden? I know you can hear me,” I shouted. “Open up, okay?”
The door swung open, and I stared at a man in a shiny blue suit. His hair was parted in the middle and slicked down against his head. He squinted at me with watery brown eyes through thick eyeglasses. “Hello. Can I help you?”
Behind him, I could see a dark-haired woman in a long brown dress watching us.
“I—I thought someone else was in here,” I stammered. “I’m really sorry to bother you.”
“No bother,” the man said. He started to close the door.
“Did you just check in this morning?” I asked.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “No. Doris and I have been here for nearly a week. Since last Monday, actually.”
“In this room?” I demanded.
“Yes. In this room.” He smiled. “Hope you find who you’re looking for.” He closed the door.
I checked the number again. It was stenciled on the front of the door. Room 237. Definitely the room Aiden was in last night. I knew I had it right. I have a really good memory for numbers. And I remembered the round stain on the hall carpet to the right of the door.
But why would the man lie to me? He seemed like a nice guy.
Okay. Okay. There were more ways to figure this out.
Was Aiden’s car still in the lot?
I pictured him climbing out of the car. The black hat tilted over his head. Pictured him striding up to the parking valet.
Yes. The valet. Tall with the red hair. I talked with him after he gave Aiden the ticket for his car. I remembered his name. Walter.
I grabbed the banister and half climbed, half slid down the stairs. Then I trotted to the front lobby. It was crowded with people. Some of them were our wedding guests, who seemed to be wandering around, unsure of what they should do.
I saw six unhappy-looking people carrying keyboards and guitars. The band we had hired. Leaving without performing. I knew Dad would have to pay them anyway. But they definitely looked disappointed.
Most of the guests were in the dining hall, having all the food that Marissa and Doug took weeks to select and taste. My stomach growled. I realized I hadn’t had a bite since breakfast.
A couple of my cousins waved me over. I waved back but I kept going. I was on a mission. I had a strong feeling that if I solved the mystery of why Aiden was here, I’d know how we could find Marissa.
I pushed through the double doors of the entrance, nearly colliding with a baggage cart being pushed into the lodge by a white-uniformed valet. He had reddish hair, but he wasn’t the guy I talked to last night.
I crossed the driveway, making my way toward the parking lot. The cars gleamed under the bright sunlight. The sun was still high above, the sky still cloudless. Perfect day for a wedding. Sigh.
No sign of Aiden’s car.
I saw two attendants leaning against a wall at the valet stand. One of them was an older guy, gray hair under a blue baseball cap, slapping a rolled-up magazine against the leg of his uniform pants. The other appeared to be a teenager, tall and wiry, dark blue sunglasses over his eyes, hair shaved close to his head.
They tur
ned as I ran up to them. “Did a guy in a red sports car leave this morning?” I asked breathlessly.
They exchanged glances. “Red sports car?” the older one said. “I didn’t see one.”
“I just came on,” his partner said. He ran his eyes over the board in front of him. It had all the car keys hanging on it, all of them labeled with ticket stubs.
“Is it still here?” I demanded.
The older guy scratched his head. “I haven’t seen a red sports car. Do you know what make it is?”
I shook my head. “No. But I saw it here last night. I talked to the valet and—”
“You talked to Tony?” the teenager interrupted.
“No. I think his name was Walter,” I said. I raised my hand above my head. “A really tall guy. Kind of a baby face. With wavy red hair?”
They exchanged glances again.
“Nope,” the old guy said, shaking his head. “There’s no Walter. Tony is short and bald. He walks with a little limp.”
“No. I know I talked to a tall red-haired guy,” I insisted. “He took the keys from my friend and gave him a valet ticket.”
The old guy chuckled. “If he did, the guy is a car thief. Probably drove off with it.”
My mouth dropped open. “Because—?”
“There’s no tall red-haired valet who works here,” the teenager said. He picked up some keys and rattled them, just to make some noise, I guess.
“Maybe talk to the manager. He might have hired on extra help. There’s a big wedding here this weekend.”
“Okay. The manager,” I said. I turned and started back to the lodge entrance. I had to fight off a wave of dizziness.
That couple in the room where I knew Aiden had stayed. . . . These two guys claiming there was no tall, redheaded valet. Was I losing my mind? Something was messed up, and it was making me dizzy, making me feel as if I’d stepped into a Twilight Zone episode.
A young woman with short, straight blond hair and wearing bright red lipstick stood behind the front desk. I waited for a couple asking her if she had a map of the area. She pointed them to the concierge desk across the lobby.
Then I stepped up to the counter. The name on the badge on her jacket lapel read: Lisa. She typed something on her computer, then raised her eyes to me with a smile. “Can I help you?”