Chapter 37

As Rich drivesChloe out of the neighborhood, away from her husband and child, he keeps up a steady stream of chatter about the kids, hockey, and Amy’s garden to distract her from the fact that this drive is longer than the few minutes he’s promised. As they pass Kennywood, he points it out.

“Remember Kennywood? And Sandcastle?”

She turns away from the window to paint him with a puzzled look. “No. I don’t remember anything. What’s Kennywood?”

“It’s an amusement park. You know, roller coasters and rides. Sandcastle is a waterpark. You and your sisters were there constantly. Diana even worked at the Potato Patch making fries the summer before she started college. You really don’t remember?”

She arches an eyebrow. “That’s how amnesia works.”

He nods but doesn’t respond. They drive in silence until he turns off Duquesne Boulevard, taking the exit for McKeesport.

“Is it much longer?” Her voice wobbles.

“No,” he tells her as they drive past the turn for the house she grew up in.

He watches for a reaction. Nothing. Maybe she’s not faking. He’ll know for sure soon.

He hangs a right and crosses the bridge to Dead Man’s Hollow. They drive in silence for several long miles. She begins to fidget in her seat, perhaps sensing this drive is taking too long, so he speeds up.

When he pulls into the gravel lot, she spots the name on the wooden notice board sign at the edge of the parking lot. She twists to stare at him.

“What are you doing? Why are we stopping here?”

“Your parents’ place is right around the corner,” he lies smoothly. “I thought you might want to walk around here for a bit first.”

“Well, I don’t.” She’s pale and shaking now. “Take me back to your house. Now.”

“That’s not happening,” he tells her calmly.

“Why are you doing this?” she wails.

“Because you’ve screwed everything up by coming back here. You should have stayed gone. Now you’re causing problems.”

“I don’t want to cause problems,” she assures him. “We’ll leave—today. Please, Rich. I don’t want to do this.”

“Chloe, get out of the car.”

He unbuckles his seat belt and then hurries around to the passenger side and wrenches the door open. She gives him a long, frightened look, unclips the harness, and sits unmoving as if she’s trying to figure out how to get away.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he tells her. “But you have to get out of the car.”

Unable to devise a way out of her predicament, Chloe reluctantly exits the car. She stands shakily in front of Rich, who vibrates with barely contained agitation. Her stomach twists. Despite what he says, she feels unsafe and vulnerable. She neither trusts nor likes this man, who is effectively a stranger.

Maisy extricates Jordanafrom a conversation with Diana’s daughters and pulls her into the laundry room off the kitchen.

“Chloe’s gone.”

Jordana gapes at her. “What do you mean, she’s gone?”

“She was out back, and now she’s not. She’s nowhere in the house, and she’s not answering her cell phone.”

“You don’t think … could she have had another episode?” Her face is ashen.

“It’s a strong possibility,” Maisy admits. “Bastian and I are going to look for her.”

“And Emilie, right? Isn’t that what snapped Chloe out of it last time?”

“It is, but he doesn’t want to chance it. He thinks if Chloe doesn’t recognize Emilie, the girl will be devastated. I understand where he’s coming from. Could you imagine how you’d feel if your own mother didn’t remember you?”

Jordana’s expression is sickly. “That would really sting.”

“Right. She’s occupied with her cousins right now. Bastian and I are going to slip out and comb the neighborhood.”

“I’ll come, too.”

Maisy shakes her head. “No, you have to stay here and keep the Ryan sisters calm. Amy is insisting she wants to look for Chloe, and you know Kristy and Diana will want to do the same. But Bastian doesn’t want her to be overwhelmed or freaked out when we find her. Your job is to stop them from helping.”

Jordana lowers her chin. “And how exactly do you expect me to do that?”

“Improvise,” Maisy tells her.

Bastian appears in the doorway.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Ready.” Maisy fishes her car key out of her bag.

They’re halfway out the door when Amy calls her name. She turns. Amy’s holding up a mobile phone.

“It’s Chloe’s. It was on the coffee table. Wherever she is, she won’t be answering her phone.” Her expression is unreadable.

Jordana appears behind Amy, takes her by the elbow, and gently guides her back to the kitchen as Maisy and Bastian go outside. Maisy starts down the walkway and stops suddenly. Bastian bumps into her back.

“I’m sorry.”

She waves off his apology, staring at the empty driveway.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Rich’s car was parked in the driveway. It’s gone.”

“Maybe he went to work,” Bastian suggests.

“Maybe. Or maybe they’re together.”

“That would be good. It would mean she’s safe.”

Would it, though? Maisy’s not about to tell this man that his wife was involved with Rich when she vanished. Or that Rich has been actively hiding what happened to her thirty years ago.

Instead, she tries Rich’s cell phone number. The phone rings several times, then voicemail picks up. Maisy hangs up without leaving a message.

They get in the car, and she begins to drive at a slow creep, combing the streets around the cul-de-sac where the Marinos live.

“If this is an episode, will she definitely go someplace that holds memories for her?” Maisy asks.

Bastian shakes his head. “Not necessarily. Dr. Marchand said that may be what happened last time. It’s possible Chloe went to the winter festival because we go every year. But it could have just been where she ended up.”

He falls silent for a long moment before he continues in a dull voice, “Sometimes people travel great distances, even to different countries, and start new lives. They don’t remember the old one at all.”

“That’s not going to happen,” she promises him.

He looks away from the street to give her a bleak look. “It already happened once. After all, that’s how she ended up in my life. There’s no guarantee it won’t happen again.”

She reaches across the center console and rests a reassuring hand on his arm for a moment. “We’re going to find her. And she’s going to remember you and Emilie. You’ll see.” Then she passes him her phone. “Keep calling Rich until he answers.”

They reach the end of the neighborhood without a Chloe sighting. Maisy pulls over and closes her eyes to think. If Chloe is with Rich, where would he take her? She sits, quiet and still, and waits for inspiration to strike. Beside her, Bastian repeatedly calls Rich’s cell phone.

When she opens her eyes, he’s watching her expectantly.

“Let’s go to McKeesport. We’ll hit her old haunts. The house she grew up in, her school, and?—”

“Dead Man’s Hollow. We should start there. If she’s with her brother-in-law, he may have taken her to the last place she was seen in a misguided attempt to help her remember,” Bastian says urgently.

Dead Man’s Hollow makes a lot of sense. It feels right. Jordana would scoff at making a decision based on a feeling, but Maisy’s intuition has yet to let her down. She types the address for the conservation area into her phone and pulls out. She exceeds the speed limit by exactly seven miles per hour the whole way. She once dated a state trooper who swore nobody gets pulled over for going seven miles over the limit. The rapid thrum of her heart urges her to go faster, but she resists. The last thing they need is to slow themselves down by getting pulled over for speeding. Bastian keeps trying Rich’s number without success.

Her map app shows multiple parking lots scattered through the park. Maisy gambles and pulls into the one closest to the baseball field. There’s a single car parked in front of the wooden kiosk displaying an information sign and a trail map. Her stomach drops.

“That’s Rich’s car.”

“Good,” Bastian says. “That means they’re here, and she’s not alone.”

“It does mean they’re here, and she’s not alone.” Maisy agrees. She’ll reserve judgment on whether this development is good.