to float within the clusters of delicate flowers arranged about her body. Her eyes were closed, she might have been sleeping.
A recap of the details surrounding Lily Slocum’s disappearance was included in the article, along with a smaller headshot. She was a pretty girl with a sweet, very pale face and long, straight blond hair. She wore too much eye makeup, which made her look even younger than her twenty-one years. She looked like a child, a little ghost child, and Kate realized with a start that she was only six years older than Grace.
“She’s so young,” Kate said out loud.
Ian took a long swallow of wine and rubbed his forehead. “Yes, she was.”
His use of the past tense jumped out at her. “You believe she’s dead then?”
“I don’t know. If she isn’t, why hasn’t anyone heard from her?”
Kate followed the story to the inside pages of the paper, and was surprised to find three more photos of smiling, attractive young women.
Police won’t speculate whether the disappearance of Lily Slocum is in any way connected with the disappearance eight years ago of Ann Henke or the disappearance of Lisa Myers and Barbara Lutz the year before, though similar photos of all three young women were found in Wickfield after their disappearance. The bodies of Ann Henke and Lisa Myers were recovered in 2000. Barbara Lutz has never been found.
Kate folded the paper, surprised that her hands trembled. “So much for the safe community.”
Ian sighed. “This is exactly what the university is afraid of. It is safe. Think how many more homicides are committed in New York every year. It just gets more publicity here because it’s a small town.”
“Tell that to the Slocum family.” Kate handed the salad and dressing over to Ian to toss so she could take the chicken out of the oven.
“Fortunately, I don’t have to. Today’s meeting was bad enough. There’s a lot of finger-pointing about campus security, which makes no sense to me since she wasn’t on campus when she was abducted.”
It made perfect sense to Kate. People needed to feel as if something could have been done to prevent Lily Slocum’s disappearance, so they blamed things like lax security.
“Grace, come set the table!” she called, adding the paper to the recycling bin and then moving it under some other papers so their daughter wouldn’t see it. Even as she did it, she realized the futility of the gesture. Grace wasn’t much younger than these other girls and she’d probably already heard the news the way that kids seemed to hear and know everything.
Ian took plates from the cupboard and handed them to Kate. “I’ve got to work late a few evenings this week because the meeting I had scheduled on the Performing Arts Center got bumped by today’s emergency meetings.”
“We’ll be here alone?” For some reason Kate had a sudden image of Terrence Simnic next door in that gloomy house with his dolls.
“Is that going to be a problem?” Ian gave her a funny look, and Kate realized she was gripping the counter. She let go, giving herself a mental shake. There was nothing to be afraid of. The person who’d taken Lily Slocum wasn’t going to break into her house and Terrence Simnic was just a harmless eccentric.
“No problem,” she said. “Grace and I can manage.”
“Manage what?” Grace slouched into the room and looked suspiciously at her parents. “I hope you haven’t signed me up for something like that stupid pottery class.”
Her parents laughed and Ian said, “You enjoyed that once you gave it a try and stopped complaining.”
“Yeah, who doesn’t want to hang out with some freaked-out hippie lady whose place reeks of patchouli and get your clothes covered in gray shit so you can produce one lopsided ashtray.”
“Don’t use that language,” Kate said, handing her a fistful of silverware. “And I loved your lopsided ashtray even if none of us smoke.”
“Mom, I could snort into a Kleenex and you’d treasure it.”
Ian put his wineglass down. “Don’t talk to your mother like that.”
Grace rolled her eyes, but only after she’d turned away from her father, Kate noticed. Instead of challenging Grace’s statement, she simply said, “Set the table and pour yourself some milk.”
“I want a Diet Coke.”
“Milk.” Kate held up a hand as Grace opened her mouth to argue. “You’re growing, you need the calcium, and it’s nonnegotiable.”
Grace gave a put-upon sigh, but after halfheartedly setting the table, she clumped past her parents to grab a glass from a cupboard and the milk from the fridge.
“Did you practice today?” Ian asked.
“Of course.” Grace sounded exasperated, but Ian pressed on.
“How was school today?”
Grace shrugged in reply and slunk over to the table with her glass, which, despite her protests, she immediately began taking sips from.
“C’mon, what happened? What did you learn?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m going to ask for my tax money back,” Ian said with a smile, nudging her with an elbow. The old, prepuberty Grace would have laughed at this, but teenage Grace, the bad seed, screeched.
“Watch it! You’ll spill my milk!”
Kate silently gave her own put-upon sigh as Ian came to serve the plates.
“Boarding school,” he muttered under his breath.
“Are you kidding? Then we wouldn’t be able to monitor her at all. I’m sure she’d have Damien as her guest in under a minute.”
Kate had spoken in a whisper, but Grace managed to pick up on a familiar name. “What are you saying about Damien? Did he call?”
“We’re not talking to you, young lady,” Ian said. “Sit down.”
“No! I want to know if Damien called. Did he?”
Ian squared off with her, arms crossed over his broad chest. “First of all, Damien isn’t allowed to call—remember? Secondly, you don’t say no to me. Sit. Down.”
Grace hesitated, staring at her father with hatred. Ian took one step toward her and she dropped in her seat.
Kate passed out plates and took her own seat. “Well, bon appétit, everybody,” she said, trying not to imbue it with sarcasm.
The photographs of Lily Slocum preyed on Kate’s mind, the image of the still girl lying on the chaise contrasting with that young, smiling face. After reading the article, she followed Grace out the door every day, accompanying her down the porch steps and their front walk and standing on the sidewalk in front of their house to watch her make her way to the end of the block to catch the bus.
“I
