Mandi scrambled out of bed as soon as she woke. Holding her breath, she checked her cell phone for messages. Nothing. Tossing it back in her purse, she headed to the kitchen. Without starting coffee, she opened her computer, willing it to connect quickly. It’d been more than twenty-four hours now – maybe there’d be something about Brit.
There it was, in the Local News section. Oh, God. Only a paragraph. Simply a missing persons report. No information. Gripping the table, she closed her eyes a moment. Okay, maybe that was good. It was true – sometimes no news was good news. She hoped so.
She padded back down the hall and showered and dressed as fast as she could. Not that getting to work early would help. Even if Brittney was fine, she made it a rule to never arrive a minute earlier than necessary.
Brittney’s workstation looked exactly the way it had the day before. Empty and dim without her desk lights on. Mandi slumped against the wall and squeezed her eyes shut. “Please, please let her show up,” she whispered.
By noon, knots clenched Mandi’s stomach. She opened the silver-lined lunch bag and peeked inside, but left the contents intact. How could she possibly eat? Mandi could hardly look at the group of six or seven women who gathered at the table. They all spoke in hushed tones, but Mandi could hear the fear consuming their thoughts. Productivity had undoubtedly spiraled to a standstill in their department today.
She lasted only fifteen minutes before returning to her workstation. She stared at the computer screen before finally getting the nerve to open the website of a local news station. Nothing new. Thirty-six hours. And with every minute that passed, Mandi’s hope slipped.
At three o’clock she swiveled at the sound of a soft knock. Joe stepped into her cubicle, and Mandi shot out of her chair. With one look at his ashen face, she knew.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” he said, running a hand across his jaw.
The room spun, and Mandi fought for breath. Amy grabbed her arm, and helped her into the chair.
“Take it easy, Mandi. Just rest a minute. Here. I brought some water.” She held the plastic bottle up to Mandi’s lips. Mandi took it, but couldn’t drink.
“Oh, God. Oh, God,” she whispered, rocking back and forth. “What happened?”
“They found Brittney’s body in a wooded area near her apartment. Looks like it happened sometime Wednesday night.”
“What happened?” Mandi asked again. “Was she raped?”
“Shhh. Mandi, don’t,” Amy said.
Mandi’s voice hardened. “I want to know what that bastard did to my friend.”
“Mandi– They think–” Joe looked at his feet. “The police said she was found naked with a belt around her neck. She’d been strangled. That’s all they could say.”
Mandi let out a scream that came from deep within her, and she covered her face with her hands. “Oh, my God.” Through a flood of tears, Mandi accepted the tissues Amy handed her.
“Why don’t you go on home?” Joe said. “Stay home Monday, too, if you don’t feel up to coming in. But stay in touch, okay?”
Mandi nodded. But what would she do at home, except wonder if she was safe? Had Brit mentioned her to this guy? Did he have Brit’s cell phone? And the numbers for all of her contacts? Mandi pressed her hands to her temples. Maybe she could find Brit’s brother’s phone number and get some more information. Or, she could go by Brit’s apartment. Maybe he was there.
“Could you call someone to pick you up?” Amy asked.
Sniffling, Mandi tried to clear the fog from her brain and think. Sure, her mother would come if Mandi called. Lane? He probably would, if he wasn’t busy. And if he wasn’t in Austin. She wouldn’t call him anyway. Why would he want to be involved in her problems? No, she’d be fine. Besides, she wouldn’t want to have to come get her car later.
“I’ll be all right,” she said.
Mandi stood silently while Amy and Joe spent a few minutes filling the others in on what had happened. She understood all too clearly what had happened, but there was no explaining why it had happened. That, she’d never be able to understand. On shaking legs, she left the office and sank into her car. For several minutes she sat, trembling, Joe’s words replaying over and over in her mind. Horrible scenes flashed before her, as she imagined the fear and torture Brit had endured. Hot rage burst inside her, and she slammed her fist against the steering wheel. “Oh, God, Brit. I’m so sorry,” she cried.
Drained, she finally started the car, and made her way to Brit’s apartment complex only a few blocks away. She turned into the parking lot, and clenched her eyes shut at the inconceivable view before her. Two police cars sat in front of the apartment, and yellow tape warned of a crime scene. A few people milled about.
Mandi craned her neck, straining to see the faces. A shiver ran through her. What if the guy was right there, watching? What if he lived close by? He’d see her and her car. Why, oh, why hadn’t she followed her instincts and called the police?
She pulled into a parking space, and sat for a moment until the wave of tears subsided. Then she backed up and turned around, pressing hard on the accelerator, forcing the Honda to lurch and swerve onto the street.
At home, Mandi hurried inside and bolted the door. Her chest heaving, she did a quick check of all the rooms, opening closet doors and looking under the bed. Then she grabbed a throw blanket and curled up on the sofa. She’d still have to go to Jimmy’s. It was too late to find a replacement. Besides, she was already taking Saturday night off. Her lips quivered, and she sank deeper into the sofa. There would be no date with Lane. How could she go out and have fun while Brittney lie in the morgue? She ran through the days in her head, and figured the funeral would be Monday or Tuesday. Mandi clenched her fists as tears streamed down her face again.
**
Mandi got through the night at Jimmy’s as best she could. Numb, she went through the motions, but when Carl locked the door, panic gripped her. She didn’t want to go home. She looked across the street to the Residence Inn. Would she feel safer there? By herself, probably not. With Lane, definitely. Her breath caught in her throat. She thought of him a little too easily.
She glanced up at the clock. Her mother might be awake still. A good thirty minutes away. Could she go running home to Mommy? Would it be stupid not to?
Like a statue, she stood in the middle of the dining room, debating.
“Mandi?”
Startled, she turned to Carl.
“You all right?”
She’d obviously zoned out, or looked as lost and confused as she felt. “Oh, sure. Hey, Carl could you wait just a sec while I make a call?”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
Mandi punched in her mother’s number.
“Mom?”
“Mandi? Is something wrong?”
The worry in her mother’s voice, tugged at Mandi. She didn’t always see eye-to-eye with her parents, but she could always count on them. They were her safety net, and tonight she wanted to feel safe.
“Yeah, there is. I don’t want to go home tonight. Can I come there?”
“Of course. Are you all right? Where are you? Do you need Dad to come get you?”
“No. I’ve got my car. I’m leaving the diner now. I’ll tell you about it when I get there.”
“I’ll wait up.”
**
Light spilled onto the porch, and the front door opened before Mandi stepped out of her car. She hurried up the stairs to the welcoming entryway of her parents’ home, and stumbled into her mother’s arms, fresh tears blurring her vision.
“Mandi, what on earth is going on?”
Mandi’s hand covered her mouth as she shook her head, unable to speak.
Her mother nudged her forward. “Come into the kitchen. Let’s get you something to drink. How ’bout a cup of tea?”
“Yes,” Mandi whispered. Hitching up on a barstool, she sagged against the cool granite countertop.
Her mother opened and closed some cupboards, but was quickly back at Mandi’s side. “Tell me what happened,” she said, her eyes searching Mandi’s face.
As best she could, between sobs and shudders, Mandi told her mother the story.
“Oh, my God. Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”
“She’d gone out with the scumbag a couple of times. Then he turned out to be weird, and wouldn’t leave her alone.” Mandi rubbed her temples, fatigue settling in. “I feel so bad. When I talked to her on Wednesday, she said he’d stopped calling, and she felt safe. So I assumed everything was okay.”
“Here. Drink this. It’ll help calm you down.” Her mother set a mug in front of her, then sat down beside her, a worried frown lining her face. “This guy doesn’t know you, does he?”
Mandi shook her head, and took a sip of tea. “No. I’ve never seen him.”
“Thank God for that,” her mother said.
But Mandi couldn’t get the image of the guy in the bar Friday night out of her head. Was that him? At the time she didn’t want to alarm Brittney. Had that been a mistake?
They talked for a few minutes while Mandi sipped the tea, letting the warm liquid soothe her tense muscles.
“Have they set a time for the funeral?” her mother asked.
Mandi clenched the mug again. Someone was planning a funeral for Brittney. “I haven’t heard of anything yet,” she said, her voice dull with sadness. “Early next week, I suppose.”
“Yes. Do you have something suitable to wear? A black dress that’s not a cocktail dress?”
“I have no idea,” Mandi said. And she didn’t care.
“Tell you what, why don’t you sleep in tomorrow, and then we can go find you something.” Polished nails reached out and touched Mandi’s hair. “It won’t fix anything, honey, but it’ll keep you busy. Maybe you can find something that reminds you of her.”
Shopping for a funeral dress sounded awful, but sleeping in sounded wonderful. In fact, she could probably sleep all day. If she could shut off her brain. If she could stop thinking of all the what-ifs and keep out horrific images of Brittney.
“God, how am I ever going to get to sleep?”
Her mother placed a hand on Mandi’s arm. “I have some pills, if you want one.”
Mandi glanced up. Her mother had sleeping pills? Her brain was too foggy to consider the reasons for that. “Yeah. I think I’m gonna need it.”
**
Mandi opened an eye and looked at the clock on the bedside table. Almost nine. Hmm. She rolled over and adjusted her head on the cool pillow. When next she woke, the clock flashed ten-thirty. She stretched and considered closing her eyes again. But memory flooded in. Oh, God. The nightmare was real. She tossed back the covers and sat up, glancing around the room for her cell phone. No purse. She must’ve left it downstairs.
Forcing herself up, Mandi headed to the closet to find something to wear. There were still plenty of her clothes inside. Something should work. She pulled a shirt from a hanger and was rummaging through a shelf of shoes, when she heard the bedroom door open.
“Mandi?”
“In here, Mom.”
“Morning. You feeling okay?”
Mandi turned, and her mother held out a steaming mug.
“Brought you some coffee.”
“Thanks.” She took it, and leaned against the doorframe to the large walk-in closet that looked almost the same as the day she’d left to get married and move in with Aaron.
“Think you can find something in there to wear?”
Mandi shot her a wry smile. “Yeah, I think so. Maybe I should thin this out. I don’t remember leaving so much.” She hadn’t looked inside the closet in months, maybe years. Even when she came over to do laundry, she seldom entered the room of her high school days. It held no special significance for her. She’d spent less than two years there. Her childhood home, the room of her teen idol posters, bean-bag chairs and stuffed animals, was long gone. Back in California.
She cringed as she surveyed the contents of the closet. It was like a shrine to her stupidity – her vain attempt to be cool. What a ridiculous waste of money. They’d spent so much money on trendy clothes and shoes, trying to make her popular – trying to make the other girls accept her.
“Well, get dressed, and come on down,” her mother said. “Oh, I answered your phone earlier. Your boss called to check on you. That was awfully nice of him.”
Mandi’s throat constricted. Just thinking of the office rolled her stomach. The next time she went in, the workstation next door would be empty. She wondered if someone was gathering up Brittney’s personal items. There wasn’t much – a mirror, and a few photos. She kept a black sweater hanging on a hook in case she got cold. Now Mandi wished she’d collected those things before she left.
She doubted the space would remain empty for long. And who would be next? Another girl working two jobs? A young mother? Someone trying to work days and get through school at night? There were so many of them out there. Sadness flooded through her. The position would be filled in a heartbeat.