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FRIDAY. ABIGAIL WAS happy it was the Friday. Laura came home most weekends from college and this was one of them. Going into the IGA she was mentally thinking of what she had to buy to make Laura’s favorite meal and when she’d have to start it so it’d be ready when her daughter arrived. For supper she was going to make a pot roast with all the sides, potatoes, corn and carrots, a meal her daughter was especially fond of. Perhaps a store bought chocolate cream pie for dessert? And on Sunday, she could send a container of the leftovers back to school with the girl. And that afternoon before Laura would drive back to college, Abigail decided she’d make a sumptuous brunch of waffles and fruit toppings. Laura loved them covered in cherries and whipped cream.
As she shopped, she thought about the Mexican mural she was nearly halfway done with and smiled. It was looking pretty good, she must say so herself, and she was proud of it. She couldn’t wait to show it to Laura, who was becoming even a better artist than she was. Laura loved the art college she was attending and was blossoming into quite an independent young lady. Abigail couldn’t wait to see her. Nick and Frank would be happy she was home, as well. Nick missed his sister though he’d never admit it. Teenage boys kept all that sappy stuff to themselves.
She was leaving the store, getting ready to slip into her car after putting the groceries in the trunk, when she saw Samantha hurrying over to her.
“What, you haven’t had that baby yet?” Abigail exclaimed in a friendly tone, giving the other woman a hug. Pregnant women needed hugs, she thought. Hugs comforted anyone whose life was about to change so drastically and there were few things more changing than having a baby, fostering or adopting one, or two.
Samantha sighed and leaned against Abigail’s car. She patted her huge stomach. “Nope, this alien creature in my humongous belly is never going to come out. Never.” Then she grinned. “I’m due in a few weeks and I can’t wait. I’m sick of being fat and grumpy. I want my figure and my life back. You know I wake up ten times a night just to pee and some mornings the heartburn is terrible.”
“Heartburn means the baby will have a mop of hair. It’ll probably be bright red like yours.” Abigail ushered her friend around to the passenger side and opened the door. “Sit down, oh-so-pregnant lady, for a minute or two while we catch up. Your face is flushed and you look like you’re going to faint.”
Samantha slid into the seat and Abigail got in on the driver’s side. The day was the hottest of the spring so far. For the first time it felt almost like summer.
“I just might faint,” Samantha complained, her head resting against the seat as she fanned herself with a piece of paper. It looked like a bill of some sort. “It’s so hot today.”
“That it is. Gonna get hotter, too. It’s only April.”
“I know, I know. And I don’t look forward to this last segment of my pregnancy. I hate hot weather to begin with and to be like this,” the hand with the fan languidly waved over her belly, “in hot weather is even worse. Yuck. I just pray the baby comes on time and not...late. I have places to go and things to do.”
“You look tired, Samantha. You haven’t been overdoing it, have you?”
Samantha sent her a sarcastic smirk and intoned flatly, “No.” Then grinned.
“Really? Frank says you’re at the newspaper every day working way too hard. Isn’t it about time you take off and rest up? Do you have the baby’s room ready for him yet?”
Samantha and her husband had known the child she was carrying was a boy for months and they were happy over that. “Boy first and then a girl and I’m done.”
“What happens if you have a second boy?” Abigail couldn’t help but voice.
“Well, still that will be it for me. I already told Kent that two kids are my limit. There are so many more things I need to do in life. Oh, I want it all. A family, a loving husband and a career. I think two children would be manageable, but no more than two.”
“Yeah, two’s a good number and, take my word for it, highly manageable. How’s your run for mayor going? Election time is coming up, isn’t it?”
“November next year. Seven months. Which means I need to start campaigning. Mayor Riley’s got posters and ads in the paper already going after his third term. He’s giving speeches, making promises. Smiling and shaking hands everywhere.”
“You’re going to beat him easily, Samantha, I know it. He’s been mayor for way too long and it’s time for a younger, more progressive candidate to take over the job. I know you’ll be our next mayor.”
Sighing, Samantha rubbed her eyes. “Am I biting off more than I can chew, Abigail? Am I pregnant-crazy for wanting to be a mother, a newspaper woman and a politician, even on just a town level? What am I thinking?”
“You will be amazing at all three, you’ll see. You were born to be Wonder Woman.”
Samantha laughed. “Yeah, that’s what Kent says, but in different words. Of course he’s not the one with a huge belly and hormonal night sweats. Men! They don’t get it, do they?”
“Sometimes they don’t, but sometimes they do,” Abigail remarked. “So what else is new?”
The reporter scrunched up her lips and appeared to be thinking hard about something and then her expression became troubled. “Not much, except....” She turned and looked right at Abigail. “What’s the name again of that art college Laura’s going to?”
“Chicago Art Institute. Why?”
“Hmm,” Samantha mumbled. “That’s what I thought it was. I caught a story yesterday about her school on the Internet. Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you this because I don’t want you to worry but–”
“But what?” Abigail knew her friend well enough to know that whatever it was it was something important, perhaps something unsettling.
“There’s been a couple of cases of missing students recently at your girl’s school. The college had pretty much kept it under wraps but now with a third girl missing, it’s coming out.”
Instantly Abigail’s inner alarm went off, though she’d just talked to Laura that morning and knew she wasn’t one of the missing girls. Thank goodness. “Missing girls? Three of them? How long has that been going on?”
“By what I read in the article, maybe two weeks. The first girl, a sophomore, never returned to her dorm after a night out with an unknown man. The second girl a week ago and now the third one has been missing a few days. All have the same MO. Their roommates and friends claim they’d all met a new mysterious young man, never learned his name, and all three went out on first dates and never returned. The dean at the college has finally released the story since the third disappearance. It’s awful. The police don’t have any leads. I was afraid it was Laura’s college and now I know, unfortunately, it is. Possibly Laura, when you see her next, will know something more about the situation.”
“But Laura’s college has over five thousand students. That’s a large campus. She might not know anything.”
“Or she might. I know she typically visits you for the weekend. So if she comes home tonight she might know something about what is happening. If she does know anything pertinent, can you give me a call? I might be doing a story on the missing girls. It is news, especially since Laura goes to that college. Town connection, you know?”
“I’ll let you know if I learn anything,” Abigail promised.
It’d been years since Abigail had felt the anguish the disappearance of her first husband, Joel, had stirred in her; but now it flooded back in a dark wave. The hopelessness, the sadness and the escalating terror. It had been devastating when she’d learned years later that Joel had been dead and had been for all the time she’d been looking for him, but in a way knowing that truth had released her. She knew some of what those poor parents of those missing girls were feeling and she had great empathy for them. Suddenly all she wanted to do was hold Laura and Nick tightly in her arms and thank God they were safe. But oh how she felt sadness for those parents and the girls missing. She couldn’t help herself and said a silent prayer that they were all right, even as she feared they weren’t. A prayer couldn’t hurt.
As soon as Samantha left her she pulled out her cell phone and texted Laura asking how long until she arrived home and was reassured when within a few minutes a reply of: Leaving the dorm now and will be there by six or so. Have lots of dirty laundry. Okay to bring? popped up on the tiny screen.
Sure. Bring all laundry you want, Abigail responded. See you soon. Love, Abby.
Abigail drove home and began supper, grateful her family was accounted for. Frank would be home in an hour and Nick, in honor of his sister coming home, was forgoing his band practice and would be home any minute. She couldn’t wait to see them and have all of them safely beneath their roof again. Samantha’s news about the missing college girls had frightened her and she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
*****
WHEN LAURA WALKED IN the house Abigail hugged her as if she hadn’t seen her in months instead of a mere short week.
“You must have really missed me.” Laura laughed and warmly returned her mother’s hug.
“I have missed you, but mostly I’m just so happy you’re here safe and sound. The world can be a dangerous place. At least when you’re with us I know you’re safe.”
“Ah,” Laura had dumped her overnight bag on the floor and her laptop knapsack on the table, “you’ve heard about the missing girls at my college, haven’t you?”
Frank was at the stove checking the pot roast simmering in its pan and he pivoted around, his attention fully engaged. Abigail had told him about the missing students and he was angry, concerned and determined to protect Laura in any way he could. She’d almost had a fight on her hands to keep him from driving up and bringing Laura home as soon as he’d heard of the crimes.
“You don’t need to, Frank,” Abigail had said to him. “She’s on her way home as we speak.” Abigail didn’t blame him. She felt the same way. On some level she would have gladly kept Laura at home and not let her return to a place where young women were disappearing, but anywhere in the world could be a dangerous place at any time so locking the girl in the house the balance of her life wasn’t a solution. Laura had to be free to carve out her own life and free to live it. Danger might not always be avoided. One simply had to be prepared to protect themselves from it or fend it off. If she’d learned anything in her life, that was it.
“We’ve heard,” Frank answered Laura, also stepping forward to hug the girl. “Your mother ran into Samantha today, who’d seen something in the media news about it.”
Laura settled in a chair. She pushed the hair away from her face. Her expression was troubled. “It’s been awful. I didn’t know the first two missing girls, but I know the third one. Odette Benoist. She’s in the room two doors down from me and we’ve become good friends this first year. Odette’s a sweet, clever girl and an incredible artist. She wants to be an animator for the movies. Her dream is to work for Disney Studios and she has an uncle with connections who swears he can get her an apprenticeship there when she graduates from school. I didn’t even know she was missing until her roommate, Diane, cornered me in the hallway this morning and asked me if I’d seen Odette anywhere recently. She hadn’t been back to the dorm, their room, in two days. After I said I hadn’t seen her, Diane was on her way to the campus police to report Odette missing like the other two girls. I’m really worried about Odette. She’s so delicate. So innocent. Shy. She’s close to her family, parents, a brother and a sister, and would never just take off without leaving word with any of them; not making contact for days, not even a text. That’s not like her.”
“I hope she’s all right.” Abigail met the gaze of the attractive young woman with the stylishly cut blond hair and copper-hued eyes before her. Gone was the sad looking, skinny waif of fourteen Abigail had first met in the library so long ago; the girl who’d dreamed of becoming an artist and having a better life than the poverty she’d been used to and had been living in, though she’d dearly loved her parents and her six siblings. After much sorrow, the death of her parents, the splitting up and relocation of her other siblings, which she saw often with her and Frank’s help, she had grown up and come into her own. Laura knew what she wanted and she was going after it. Abigail was proud of her. She didn’t like to see her anxious as she was now.
Frank had sat down at the table with Laura. “Tell me all you know about the disappearances,” he requested with that intense look Abigail recognized. Detective Frank was in the house. Oh boy. She knew what that meant.
As Abigail tended to the rest of the supper, heating up the sourdough rolls and making a salad, she eavesdropped on Frank and Laura’s conversation about Odette and the other missing students. Frank had brought out his notebook and was writing things in it. Abigail knew before he told her later he was interested in the disappearances and not just to put in a book. He was interested in the case. And why shouldn’t he be? Chicago was his old turf, he still had friends on the police force, and finding missing people, among other heinous crimes, had been his specialty in his Chicago detective days and he’d been gifted at it. She had the suspicion Frank was going to do more about the situation than merely take notes.
Nick breezed in soon after and the four of them sat down to supper and caught each other up on what was going on in their lives. It felt good to be together.
She and Laura spoke about Laura’s art classes, her teachers, and what she was learning. It was nice to have another artist to chat with about all things art. In some ways it almost made Abigail want to go back to art school herself...nah. She was happy to relive it through her daughter. Laura was quite a good storyteller, as well. She’d tell her comical or insightful anecdotes about her quirky teachers or strange fellow students and would habitually make Abigail laugh. The girl was so like her in so many ways and Abigail was content, at total peace, when she was home with them.
Nick offered his sister a chance to go with him the next day, Saturday, and listen to his band when they practiced and she accepted. Laura loved music almost as much as her brother and would sometimes even sing with him. She had a lovely voice and their harmonies were, as with most siblings, exceptional. Over the years Abigail had heard them sometimes singing together in Nick’s bedroom late at night. But Laura wasn’t interested in a singing career. All she cared about was being a famous artist, a painter.
The four of them discussed going to a movie Saturday night after Nick’s band practice and out to dinner afterwards at their favorite BBQ place. It turned out to be an enjoyable evening and Abigail was happy to have everyone together even with the shadow of Laura’s friend Odette missing. During dinner Abigail would steal a glance at her daughter and see the concern hovering in her eyes. She might not want to show it but she was distraught about what was going on at the college. She was worried about her classmates.
The weekend passed too quickly as most of them did when Laura was home. They sat around chatting, playing board games or cards, went to the movies; Abigail invited Myrtle and Glinda over for a Sunday breakfast of waffles so they could spend time with Laura, too.
Yet it didn’t escape Abigail how often she caught Frank and Laura huddled over coffee or out on the porch seriously conversing about something or other. Most likely the kidnappings at the college. Odette. What they could do about it.
“I’d advise,” Abigail spoke to Frank Saturday after the movie and dinner when they were in bed for the night, “you not mention the missing girls at Laura’s college around Myrtle tomorrow morning. Unless you want her to claim it as another new grand mystery and she’ll insist you both go down there, beat the bushes, and find them.”
“I’d already figured that one out. The last thing we want is Myrtle sticking her nose into an investigation which she shouldn’t be anywhere near. If those girls have been abducted, the kidnappers are serious criminals and the whole thing has to be handled by trained police. I asked Laura to keep it to herself when Myrtle and Glinda are over just for those reasons.”
“I knew you were a clever man.” She put her arms around him and kissed him goodnight.
*****
SUNDAY WAS A BRIGHT sunny morning and around eleven Myrtle and Glinda showed up. Glinda had brought a large bowl of fresh fruit, cubes of cantaloupe, chunks of watermelon, loose cherries, grapes and bananas, for everyone. Myrtle had baked homemade pecan caramel rolls. So they had a smorgasbord of a brunch.
Sitting at the table after their scrumptious feast, Myrtle was chatty as usual going on and on about her new adventure. “Laura, has Frank told you about our new marvelous mystery?”
“A little.” Laura sent an understanding glance in Frank’s direction. She’d remembered not to speak of the missing girls and hadn’t said a word about any of it all morning. “Buried treasure this time, huh?”
“Maybe or maybe not,” Frank tossed in. “Kate claims the legend of Masterson’s buried treasure is all a hoax he perpetrated on the town as a vindictive joke because they’d ostracized him. So we aren’t sure it ever existed.”
Then Myrtle spent the next half hour gleefully bringing Laura up to date with everything that had been going on, Glinda’s dreams and what they’d uncovered about Masterson and his life. So far anyway. Nick was listening attentively as well. “I don’t believe there is no treasure,” Myrtle groused. “No matter what Kate says, if that ghost told my niece there is buried treasure, then there is. Somewhere. We just have to wait for the ghost to tell us where he buried it...or we have to find it ourselves.”
“Yeah, we can dig up Glinda’s front and back yard and the cemetery grounds until it’s a pit of holes or until we find the hidden gems and gold coins, or whatever the treasure consists of,” Abigail snidely snapped. “I can think of a lot of other things more worth doing.”
“Or we can wait until the ghost tells my niece where he put it.” Myrtle winked at her.
“Sure, or we can wait for that.” Abigail had already lost patience with the whole buried treasure enigma since she’d learned of the missing girls at the college. Now that was important, real. That could be life or death. It affected Laura so it affected Frank and her. The legend of Bartholomew Masterson’s lost treasure had been a secret for decades and it could remain one for decades more as far as she was concerned. It was probably only a myth.
Hours later the breakfast gathering broke up and Laura got in her car and drove back to school, Myrtle and Glinda went into town for something or other and Nick took off for a late day band practice.
“I worry about Laura now at that college with what is going on,” she confessed to her husband when they were alone.
“Don’t. I gave her detailed instructions on how to best protect herself. Park in well-lit and well populated areas. Always be aware of her surroundings. Don’t travel on campus alone, have someone always go with her or stay in groups. I also gave her one of those key screamers, the kind where you push a button and a siren loud enough to wake the dead goes off–it’ll scare off almost anyone meaning her harm–and a bottle of pepper spray. I think, if she’s cautious and alert, she’ll be safe.”
“I still hated seeing her drive away. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to her. Or Nick.”
“I know.” Frank had bestowed on her a sympathetic look. “But we can’t be their shadows forever, sweetheart. We have to let them grow up and live their lives. We have to trust them to be able to take care of themselves.”
She’d shaken her head. “I know, I know. It’s the circle of life. All fledglings have to leave the nest and learn to take care of themselves.”
“That they do.”
“But I’m still worried about her.”
“I know.”
*****
SHE AND FRANK WERE getting ready to retire to bed but were enjoying a little time sitting on the front porch in the hanging swing, porch light off. They were bundled in jackets and hats because the April evening had turned chilly. Snowball was purring in Abigail’s lap.
“The fog is already coming in from the woods,” Abigail commented as she looked out over the yard. “It’s going to be a real thick one.” Sometimes the fog would be so heavy it was as if their cabin existed alone in the woods with a blanket of gray around it, silencing all the other sounds of nearby civilization. Abigail cherished that silence. One could imagine all sorts of strange creatures existing and happenings going on in the foggy woods deep in the night. She didn’t fault Myrtle for not wanting to ever travel in the night woods.
“We might wake up tomorrow morning,” Frank mused aloud, “and there will be nothing in the world but us and the thick gray fog.”
“Oh, I thought that happens all the time?” she teased.
“Honey–” Frank started and then stopped. She heard his small outbreath and then he went on with, “what would you say to me taking a road trip tomorrow up to Chicago for a few days? I got a phone call from Kyle today and he has Tuesday off. I’d really like to go visit him. It’s been a while. Kyle said I could stay at his apartment as usual. I asked the sheriff if I could have a few days off and he didn’t mind. There’s not much going on in Spookie right now. Would you mind if I went?”
Abigail was almost thankful. “No, you know I wouldn’t mind you going to see Kyle. He’s your son and I know how much you miss him. So go see him. And?” Abigail knew there was another reason her husband wanted to go to Chicago and she was waiting for it. She was pretty sure she knew what it was.
“You know me too well, wife. I made a call today to my old friend, Sam Cato. Remember him?”
“Of course I do. Your old partner on the Chicago police department. He helped us catch that Mud Person Killer–”
“Mud People Killer.”
“Okay, Mud People. I remember Sam well. I liked him.”
“Well, I spoke to him today about the missing girls from the art college and, lo and behold, you won’t believe it, he’s actually one of the detectives on the case. Because Laura is involved by attending the school and we’re concerned about her well-being and safety, I asked if I could drop by the station and talk to him about how the investigation is going. He said he’d love to see me and so would the other guys in my old department, or the ones still left. There’s a handful, Sam says. They want to take me out to lunch so we can all catch up. I have an appointment at the station with Sam tomorrow afternoon at one.”
“It’s all right, Frank,” she replied, stroking Snowball gently. The purring had stopped, the cat was sleeping. “I suspected you were going to take a trip to Chicago. Soon. I saw the way you and Laura were scheming on the back porch this morning. I know you’re worried about her and her friend Odette. All the missing girls really. And,” she reached over and squeezed her husband’s hand, “if you think you can help protect our daughter in any way up there, then I’m behind you a hundred percent. I hated seeing her leave today knowing what’s going on at the campus. I pray they catch whoever is taking these girls, I know you also believe they’ve been kidnapped and aren’t just missing, and the three girls are found unharmed...and alive.”
“We all want that. Laura begged me to come up tomorrow and look into this situation. Talk to some of her friends who might have seen or heard something and speak to the campus police. She’s so scared for Odette and the others. She’s frightened for herself. She thinks I can solve anything, any crime, so she said she’d feel better if I looked into it.”
“That you’re super cop, huh?”
“She thinks I am. I’m not, of course, but I do want to help find these missing students if I can. I feel so sorry for their families and friends. Also going up there will give Laura some piece of mind because I’ll be close by and will be checking in with her a lot. She’s afraid to go anywhere on campus now by herself.”
Abigail shivered, remembering her missing husband Joel. Those had been dark, dark days. “Then go, honey. I can do without you for a couple of days. No problem. See if you can help Sam find those girls and...keep Laura safe.”
“I knew you’d be okay with it. Thanks for being such an understanding spouse.” He gave her a kiss as she lay in his arms. “You know Sam is now a lieutenant detective in his division. He’s at the top of the heap.”
“Good for him. He deserves it. Though, isn’t he close to retirement?” she inquired.
“Three or four years away, I think. He was a lot younger than me. It’ll be good to see him again. It’s been too long since we saw him.”
“Two years or so, huh?”
“About that.”
“Say hi to him for me,” she said, “and tell him to come down for a visit sometime soon. He can bring the family if he wants. We have the room.”
“I’ll tell him.”
“What about Myrtle’s new mystery? The lost treasure?”
Frank chuckled. “It can wait. It’s waited for nearly eighty years. I’m sure Myrtle and Glinda can handle it for a while. Probably have it all solved by the time I return. Treasure found and in the bank...if there is any to find, that is.”
“Possibly. Myrtle is a determined woman. With Glinda’s help she might just unearth that buried treasure.
“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” Was all she had left to ask.
“Early.”
*****
FRANK WAS RIGHT. WHEN she awoke the next morning around eight o’clock he was up and dressed. Bag packed. She was sure there was a gun inside it. He never went anywhere without his old duty gun. “How about something to eat before you go?”
So they had breakfast, gazing out at the swirling fog beyond the windows which hid the driveway and roads, and she sent him off with a kiss and a hug. “Be careful, Frank.”
“Driving in the fog? It’s dissipating as we speak.”
“Not that. Be careful,” she stressed the words and was sure he knew what she meant.
“I’m always careful.” And he was gone. She watched his truck disappear down the driveway into the fog.
She got Nick off to school and drove into town to work on the mural. By the time she was behind the wheel the fog was about gone. Good thing. She hated driving in it.