mother tells me that you’re her best friend. Is that right?”
Samantha poured tea, a cup for each of them. She motioned to the sugar. Emily declined.
“We knew each other in college,” Samantha said, swirling sugar into the steaming amber liquid. “We were freshman roommates. We were that strange pairing of girls that actually clicked. Most of the girls who were paired off with high school friends ended up hating each other by Christmas. Not us.”
“You’re not from here, are you?” Emily asked, already knowing the answer. She knew everyone with deep roots in Cherrystone, because she had them herself.
She shook her head, and Emily noticed for the first time that the diamonds on Samantha Phillips’s earlobes had to be at least two carats each.
“No, but I’m here because of Mandy. I was out here visiting her and Mitch, and I met Dan at a party.”
“Did you know Mitch well?”
“Well enough to hate him, if that’s what you want to know.”
Emily set down her cup. “How come?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I hated him because Mandy could have done so much better. She always dated decent guys in school. Mitch was such a jerk. He never let her do anything that went against whatever he thought best. It was like the second she married him, I had to make appointments to see her.”
“So he’s controlling,” Emily said. “But what else? Was he abusive?”
“Not that I know of,” she said. “I mean, he didn’t hit her. I know she’d never put up with that and I know she would have told me.”
Emily searched Samantha’s worried eyes. “You’re holding back on something.”
“I know you’re here for some big revelation, something that will give you a clue about what happened to her, where she might be. I just can’t help you.”
“Was she happy?”
“She hadn’t been for a long time, but when she became pregnant, Mandy changed. She seemed to be her old self again. There was some joy in her voice. She’d wanted to have a baby for so long, but Mitch kept telling her the time wasn’t right.”
“So last year, the time was right?”
“I think so. I really don’t know. One time when we were having coffee at her house—which, by the way, she hated the place—she told me that if she didn’t start a family with Mitch she’d leave him. She said, ‘I don’t care about the things he cares about. I want to be a mom. I will be a mom.’”
“So, she must have convinced him it was time?”
“Or tricked him,” Samantha said, looking like she’d spoken ill of the dead.
“Tricked him?” Emily prodded.
“I’m overstating, I think. You know what I mean, she just wanted a baby so much. She’d skip her pills and make things happen. She wouldn’t have been the first woman to do that.”
Emily could no longer resist the cookie. The buttery crunch reminded her instantly of her own childhood, of holidays with her family, and later with Jenna and David. There was a bittersweetness to the memory.
“Mitch was looking forward to the baby, too?”
“I think so. I think it took awhile. Dan and I went out to dinner with them in late October and they both seemed excited that they’d be parents by Christmas. Mitch was bragging about how he’d have a son to follow in his footsteps at the dealership.”
“But it wasn’t a son.”
Samantha looked across the room then back at Emily. “I know. I almost dropped my fork. I nudged Dan to keep his mouth shut. I knew it was a girl, but it was clear that Mandy hadn’t told Mitch. You could have knocked me over with a puff of air.”
“I’ll bet. Did you ask her about it?”
When Samantha started to answer, her cell phone rang. The ringtone was “Jingle Bells.” She looked at the number and let it go to voice mail.
“My husband’s late,” she said. “And, to answer your question, I did ask her about it a week or so later.”
Samantha Phillips had been out running errands. She made a trip to the bank, the cleaner’s to drop off her husband’s shirts, and she picked up two bags of Halloween candy because the old Justin House had been rumored to be haunted; every year, it got more trick-or-treaters than probably any other residence in Cherrystone. She knew that Saturdays were Mitch’s biggest day at the dealership and that Mandy would be home. She parked behind a dark blue Lexus on the street in front of the house.
When she rang the bell, Mandy met her at the door.
“Oh, hi, Sam,” she said.
“Hi, honey, I thought I’d stop by for coffee. I tried your cell, but it must be off.”
Mandy lingered in the doorway, not really opening it for Samantha to come inside. “I guess I forgot to recharge it again.”
There was a beat of uncharacteristic awkwardness.
“Can I come in?” Samantha asked.
Mandy stood still. Her hair was clipped back, as if she hadn’t had time to brush it out. It looked like she was getting a late start on the day. “Not a good time.”
A flicker of worry came over her. “Are you all right? Is the baby all right?”
“The baby’s fine. I’m just trying to take it easy.”
The excuse seemed so hollow, so completely unlike her friend.
“Are you sure?”
“Sure. Let’s get together later. I’ll call you.”
“But I wanted to talk about last night. What you said about the baby…I thought Mitch knew it was a girl.”
“I can’t go there right now,” she said, narrowing the opening of the doorway. “I’m sorry.”
“Can I come in? We need to talk.”
“Not now. Now isn’t a good time.”
Before Samantha could change the subject and offer to go to the store or run an errand to help out, the door snapped shut. It was as if she was selling magazine subscriptions door to door or maybe handing out pamphlets for a fundamentalist religious group.
She stood there and looked at the grand front door.
What just happened here? What’s going on?
Two days later, Samantha got Mandy on the phone at her job at the county clerk’s office.
At first, she thought that Mandy’s cell phone had died and that had been the reason why she hadn’t called back, despite several messages.
