Chapter 27 #2
“Naomi and I … have been struggling a bit. In the marriage. The usual midlife stuff, you know. She accused me of working too many hours, that it took away time from the family, and really, she’s right.
So the baby was meant to fix things, put everything back on the right track.
” His gaze met Pierce’s. “I know what it sounds like, but we both wanted it, so …” He got to his feet again and strode restlessly toward the windows.
“So this weekend was supposed to be kind of a reset, I suppose. Anyway, I agreed that we would stay here, even though I figured she might have a honey-do list. I’m pretty sure she wanted me to tackle some of the projects I’d been ignoring …
” His voice trailed off as he watched the sun inch upward, sending rays through the forest and over the grassland where cattle grazed.
“She took the girls to her sister’s place in Charleston around six, and that was the last I heard from her.
I called, of course, and talked to Roxanne. ”
Roxanne, Pierce knew, was Naomi’s older sister, but he didn’t like this turn in the conversation.
Jamison went on, “Roxie told me Naomi had dropped them off just as planned. Around six. She stuck around for about half an hour, had a glass of wine, then left.”
“And then she was supposed to come back here?”
He glanced back at Pierce. “Eventually. She said something to me about meeting friends for a drink … I don’t really know. I was working late, and she was a little pissed about that but got over it.”
“What time did you get home?”
“Around ten.”
“And she wasn’t here.”
“Right. And didn’t check in.” He returned his gaze to the windows, his gaze seeming to hover over the tree line. “I waited until about ten-thirty or so and tried calling. But she didn’t pick up. Never responded.”
“Is that unusual?”
“If she’s busy, it might take an hour or two, but she always gets back to me.
” He was still staring out the window, past the pool area.
“Once in a while, it’s been overnight, just a couple of times, but that was because her phone wasn’t charged or she left the phone somewhere or somehow she missed the message. ”
“Has this ever happened before? When she didn’t show up to where she was supposed to be?”
A beat.
Just a slight hesitation.
“No,” he said, but there was something in his tone that didn’t convince Pierce. And he’d just admitted that he and his wife were going through a tough time. Then again, why would Jamison call Pierce out here, if he wasn’t going to be completely honest, if he didn’t want his help?
Jamison knew as well as Pierce that spouses were always “persons of interest,” if not actual suspects, until they were cleared.
As if reading Pierce’s mind, Jamison said, “I know how this looks. That’s why I contacted you. As a friend, yeah, but as an investigator. If something’s happened to her … if she’s a victim … they’ll look at me.”
Fair enough. “Just don’t hold back on me.”
“I won’t,” Jamison assured him.
“Has Naomi contacted Roxanne, or the girls, since she dropped them off?”
“Texted them all good night, around ten, I think. You know, they all have phones, so I think she texted each of them, individually. As I told you, that’s what Roxie said when I called her around midnight, that Naomi had dropped the kids off about six or maybe six-fifteen, hung out for a bit, then she took off.
She told Roxie she was meeting me later.
“I texted Roxie again this morning, and she called me right back. Said she hadn’t heard a word, so now she’s worried sick. That’s when I called you.” He ran tense fingers around the back of his neck.
“Have you called the hospitals between here and Charleston?”
“Yeah. Around three this morning. Before I called you.” He exhaled heavily. “No one matching her description came into any of the ERs.”
“What about her friends?”
Checking his watch, he said, “I haven’t called them yet. It’s still early. But I will, and if anyone’s heard anything, I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll want their names and numbers. She drives a white Mercedes?”
“E-Class 350. Hybrid.”
“I’ll need the plate number.”
“I should know it, but I don’t,” he said.
“I’ve got it in some paperwork in my office.
” He left the room for a few minutes, leaving Pierce in the huge room alone.
He stood and walked to the one wall near the bar where pictures were hung.
Mostly they were glimpses of Jamison’s life as a football quarterback in high school.
Wearing a cap and gown when he’d graduated, his father at his side.
With his father and brothers on a hunting trip, a dead buck in the foreground.
Holding hands with Naomi and laughing, newlyweds running down the steps of the local church where they’d gotten married.
She in a lacy white gown, he in a tux, as they were showered with rice and birdseed as they fled through a gauntlet of friends and family.
The people surrounding them were blurred, but Pierce remembered the day and knew he had been standing at the top of the steps.
The day had been filled with sunshine and promise.
They had moved here soon after the wedding, taken over the house from his parents, who had moved to Florida. Then, somehow, when his father had passed years later, Jamison had inherited the place.
He stared at the picture of the joyous couple.
They’d had such big plans, and their future had seemed bright.
And now Naomi was missing … Had she disappeared of her own accord, or had something happened to her?
He heard Jamison’s footsteps and turned as his friend walked down the steps into the room.
“Here you go.” He handed Pierce a sheet of paper with the car information on it and the names and phone numbers of Naomi’s closest friends.
“For now, keep it on the down-low. I don’t want this to get out of hand in case she shows up with some plausible excuse.
Like maybe the car broke down and her phone was out of juice or she had too much to drink and stayed with a friend …
” His voice trailed off, and they both knew he was likely grasping at straws, hoping against hope.
“I’ll try and call again,” he said as he yanked his phone from his pocket and punched a speed-dial number. A few seconds passed and from across the room, Pierce heard a soft female voice answer. Naomi. But a recording.
Jamison’s gaze met Pierce’s as he said at the beep, “Hi, hon. It’s me again. Gettin’ worried. Give me a call.” He clicked off, and he stuffed the phone back into his pocket.
“I’ll work on it,” Pierce said. “Make some inquiries. Put out a BOLO on her car.”
Jamison nodded. “Right. But keep it as quiet as you can. It’s still … there’s still time.” He grimaced. “There’s a chance she might still show up.” But he didn’t look like he believed it. His expression was taut, and though he was keeping his cool, he was tense. Worried.
“I’ll double-check with the hospitals. See if there’s anything, but you should probably call her friends before I do.”
Jamison nodded absently, again looked through the windows. A slight mist was rising over the fields, where cattle and horses grazed. “I will … Yeah. This morning.”
“So do you know anything about someone who might want to harm her?”
“Of course not.” His head whipped around. “You know Naomi. Everybody loves her.”
Pierce wondered about that, but held his tongue. “If you think of anyone she might have pissed off, let me know.”
“There’s no one. Holy Christ, she does volunteer work at two schools and the church. She helps with the Birds of Paradise at All Christian, and most of those women are her friends.”
“Including Mavis Greenlee?”
Jamison’s head snapped up. He held up a hand as if to stop Pierce’s train of thought.
“Jesus, where are you going with this?” he demanded, but he was following the same dark path of Pierce’s thoughts himself.
“No … Oh, God, let’s not even go there. Okay?
This is just a simple case of Naomi … my wife being waylaid …
or in an accident or …” His voice broke, but he cleared his throat and visibly pulled himself together.
“She’s just missing, and it hasn’t been that long …
so don’t go off the deep end on me.” But he’d paled, his concern that something deadly had occurred written all over him.
A dog barked from the distance, and another joined in. Jamison glanced out the window again, to a spot lower on the hill, where behind a copse of pine, a building was visible. The kennels.
“Hell. I forgot to feed them,” he said, glancing at his watch.
“Naomi usually does it. Takes her morning walk and feeds and lets out the dogs before she gets the girls ready for school. They’re on a schedule, and they know when breakfast is late.
I’d better go down there.” He turned back to Pierce.
“Thanks for checking this out,” he said.
“And keeping it between us. I appreciate it.”
“No worries.”
“I just … I just hope … that she shows up. Soon.”
“Me, too,” Pierce said, and he meant it. Boy, did he mean it.
But he had a bad feeling. A very bad feeling.