Chapter 28
Traci bustled around the kitchen of her cottage, setting out coffee mugs and bowls. She had homemade granola from her favorite bakery in the village, fresh blueberries and peaches, and Greek yogurt. Lola dozed in her favorite sunny spot near the back door.
Her laptop was set up on the pine kitchen table, and she started reviewing the notes she’d made after returning home from the previous night’s event so she could go over the hits and misses with Charlie on Monday, but her mind kept returning to Parrish’s text message. Something serious. What the hell did that even mean?
When Lola started scratching at the back door to go out, she was surprised to see it was ten thirty.
She frowned and checked her phone to make sure she hadn’t missed a text from Parrish, who, unlike most of her generation, was habitually prompt. Nothing. She picked up her phone to call, but was sent directly to voice mail.
“Parrish? Coffee’s ready. Where are you? Call me, please.”
As the minutes ticked by, she felt a prickle of unease. She drank half a pot of coffee, and tried to concentrate on work, to no avail. After an hour, she called and left another message.
Should she call Ric, to ask if he knew anything about his daughter’s whereabouts? But the thought of hearing his voice conjured up unpleasant thoughts about the nefarious scheme her brother-in-law was cooking up in what she was sure amounted to some kind of power grab.
At noon, she got in her golf cart and rode over to the staff dorm. Parrish was probably in her room, having overslept after the party. When she arrived, she saw her niece’s Audi was parked in the gravel lot. So she was there. Wasn’t she?
Traci was about to punch the door code into the keypad when Felice pulled up and stepped out of her car, dressed in a pastel flowered dress, with a wide-brimmed straw hat.
“Mrs. E?” Felice looked flustered at seeing her employer here, on a Sunday, so out of context. “Something wrong?”
“Hello, Felice. You look very pretty. I’m just a little concerned. Parrish and I had a breakfast date this morning, and she never showed, which is very unlike her. She hasn’t returned my calls or texts. Have you seen her this morning?”
“Me? No, I left for church at nine and nobody else was up. I think everyone had a late night at the afterparty last night.”
“Afterparty?”
She followed Felice inside. The dorm was quiet. A heap of muddy sneakers and flip-flops sat beside the door. The television in the lounge was turned on, but muted, and she could see that the dining table and kitchen counter were littered with dishes and discarded takeout containers. A bag of trash sat in the middle of the kitchen floor, and a half-eaten pizza had been left on the coffee table in the lounge, and she could definitely detect the smell of weed.
For a moment, she was transported back to that hot, creaky staff dorm that she and Shannon had lived in all those years ago. Same pizza boxes and dirty dishes. But this time with air-conditioning. And premium cable.
“It’s kind of a mess,” Felice apologized. “I fuss at those guys, but you know…”
“Don’t worry,” Traci said. “I’m not here to inspect. I just need to check on Parrish.”
She knocked lightly on her niece’s door. “Hey, kiddo. You awake in there?” After a minute, she opened the door and stuck her head inside.
Parrish’s bed was unmade. A laundry basket was overflowing with rumpled clothes and her nightstand held a phone charger and a can of Red Bull. No sign of the room’s occupant.
Felice was still waiting in the hallway. “Not here,” she told the chef.
“Maybe she’s in the shower,” Felice said. “I’ll just check.” But she was back, a moment later, shaking her head. “Nobody there.”
Traci fiddled with her engagement ring, twisting it around and around.
“You want me to wake up the others and ask?” Felice asked.
She did and she didn’t. “Maybe so,” she said finally.
Felice stood in the center of the hallway and bawled loudly in her distinctive accent. “All y’all, wake up now! Come on. Mrs. E is here and she’s looking for Parrish.”
A door popped open and Olivia poked her head out. “Parrish? Isn’t she here?”
“Nope,” Felice said.
A moment later, KJ emerged from his room, yanking a T-shirt over his head. Garrett stepped out of his room, bare-chested and bleary-eyed.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Traci said, trying to mask her mounting anxiety. “But Parrish missed a breakfast date with me this morning and I’m a little worried. I’m wondering when was the last time any of you saw her.”
She noticed a wary glance passing between the two men.
“I saw her last night, at the Beach Bash,” Garrett offered. “We, uh, had a little get-together after the Beach Bash. A few beers, a few laughs.”
“An afterparty,” Traci said. “Where was this? And was Parrish there?”
“She was there,” Olivia said. “We rode over together, with KJ. There were a lot of people there, and I’m not sure the last time I saw her.”
“Again. Where was the party? Come on, you’re not in trouble. I just need to know where Parrish could be.”
“The Shack,” Garrett began. “It’s this old—”
“I know where it is,” Traci cut in. “When did you see her last?”
Garrett ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe around one?”
“She was talking to one of the guys from the band,” KJ volunteered.
“And then what?” She turned to the chef. “Felice, did you see her last night?”
“I came back here and soaked my feet and went to bed. Last time I seen Parrish was down at the beach, right when the storm came up, telling everyone to move inside.”
Traci turned to the others. “And she didn’t come back here with any of you?” She recognized that her tone was sharper, because she was growing desperate.
“Not with me,” Livvy said. “Tommy, one of the other servers, gave me a ride back.”
“Me and KJ rode a golf cart back here together,” Garrett said.
“So. What was the last time anyone saw Parrish last night?”
“Maybe one thirty?” Livvy was apologetic. “Just a guess. My phone was dead by the time I got off work.”
“Hey. Maybe try calling her phone here. Maybe she forgot it or something,” KJ said.
Traci made a show of tapping her niece’s number. “It’s still going directly to voice mail. Which means she either turned it off, or it’s dead.”
KJ shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Do you want me to go out to the Shack to look for her?”
“That’s a great idea,” Garrett said quickly. “Me and KJ will go scout around.”
“I’ll go with you,” Traci said.
“Well, it’s super muddy out there after all that rain last night,” he said. “If you’ll just let us borrow your golf cart, we can run out there, check, and come right back.”
“I don’t know.” She was raising a welt on her ring finger from all the twisting and turning. “I don’t have a good feeling about this. Maybe I should call the police.”
“You don’t wanna do that,” Garrett said. “I mean, how embarrassed would she be if she was, like, with a guy? Also, have you checked at the hotel? Maybe she decided to go in early to work and just forgot.”
“Not likely,” Traci said. “But I’ll walk over there and check. You two go out to the Shack. Call me right away if you find her.”
The area around the Shack looked like a dump truck had overturned, spilling out beer cans and bottles, cigarette butts, lighters, and discarded Solo cups. The ground was muddy and matted down around the fire pit. Flies buzzed around half-empty foil pans of food, and the sickly sweet smell of rot lingered in the swampy summer air.
“Man, what a mess,” KJ said, surveying the site.
“Come on,” Garrett urged, handing him one of the plastic garbage bags they’d brought from the dorm. “We gotta get the place cleaned up. If Mrs. E sees this, we’ll all be in deep shit.”
The two men began loading trash into the bags. It was hot, miserable work.
KJ tossed a full bag of trash onto the back of the golf cart. “I’m just gonna take a look inside the Shack, make sure she’s not in there.”
They removed the broken padlock from the door. Rusted hinges squeaked as he pulled on the door handle. He stepped inside. “Jesus!”