Page 30 of What Happened to Nina?

I thanked Julie. She avoided eye contact, which surprised and disappointed me a little. Julie was a strong girl. I guess I just expected more of her than that she’d be afraid to look at me. I told myself I was being unfair, and forced myself to smile at her, which only made her more awkward. She flushed and found a seat beside her mother. Soon after Julie and Delores were settled, Craig and Sofia arrived, followed by Alice Marsden, and then Patrick from the gas station.

“I called him,” Andy murmured. “I thought he might have some useful information.”

There was small talk, but it was a strained beginning. Craig had gone into what I thought of as shutdown mode, which nearly always happened when there was a lot of emotion in a room. He asked and answered questions stiffly, like he was at some kind of formal enquiry, and avoided all eye contact. Sofia tried to make up for that by being more effusive, and the imbalance made everyone a little uncertain.

“Thank you all very much for coming,” I said. “As you all know, Nina’s been missing since Saturday. Today is Tuesday, so she’s been gone for three days. As far as we know, Simon Jordan was the last person to see her, and that was at his family’s home in Stowe. We want to organize a search for her, and we’re hoping that you can help.” I stopped talking, but no one responded. They just looked at me with expectant faces. “Uh... I guess we need to figure out how many people we can get out to help. And then we can figure out the best process.” I thought that was pretty weak. I wished I’d had more time to think everything through, to make a plan, but Alice Marsden gave a firm nod.

“Sounds sensible to me,” she said. “Why don’t we each make a list of everyone we think would be willing to help? Then we can crosscheck our lists to make sure we don’t double up, and then start calling everyone. When are you thinking for the search, Leanne? I’d imagine as soon as possible.”

It occurred to me that I still didn’t have the Jordans’ permission. “I guess I’d better go and make a call.” I went to the kitchen. It wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have in front of anyone else. I found Jamie Jordan’s number. The call rang out and went to voice mail. I thought I would wait fifteen minutes or so and then try again, but my phone buzzed in my hand almost immediately.

“Jamie.”

“Hi, Leanne. How are you holding up?” Her tone was formal. Polite.

“I’m okay, thank you.” I hesitated. I’d been so focused on finding Nina that I hadn’t considered how I would actually present the search request. I wasn’t going to mention the press conference, even though I expected she’d have heard about it. We lived in a small town. Someone would have mentioned it. “Look, Jamie, the reason I’m calling is that I want... I would like to search your land. For Nina. I’m afraid that she might have gone for a hike and gotten lost, or maybe injured. It’s the only thing we can think of.”

“Of course,” Jamie said briskly. “That’s not a problem. We should have thought of that ourselves. It’s dark now. Is it too late to go today? First thing in the morning? Rory and I will help. And Simon.”

Her voice was firm on Simon’s name.

“I... yes. First thing in the morning.” I didn’t want them there, but I couldn’t stop them.

“At first light? Dawn is at six thirty A.M. right now. Should we meet at our house at six A.M.? I don’t think I need to give you the address.” Her voice had an edge to it. She knew I’d been inside, obviously.

“No.” There was silence on the line for a long moment. “Thank you, Jamie.” I forced the words out.

“You’re so welcome, Leanne.” She was saccharine sweet.

We ended the call. I went back to the drawing room. Things had moved on in my absence. Julie Bradley had brought her laptop. She’d already started a contact list with everyone’s name, number, and email address. Her awkwardness seemed to have passed. She’d started a task list too, in a table format, and she was busy assigning names across the grid.

“This is going to sound weird, but the missing-persons’ guide says that we should choose a brand for our campaign,” she said. “We should choose a short name to represent what we’re doing, something we can use across all social media, as a hashtag, you know?” Julie looked at me, anxious that she might have offended. “I know it sounds messed up, but it really is necessary. We need people to share our stuff, to talk about Nina, to ask questions. The guide suggests using something like ‘Nina come home,’ but that doesn’t seem right to me. ‘#NinaComeHome.’”

“No,” I said, sharply. “That’s not right. It makes it sound like she made a choice. Like she’s out there somewhere, just deciding to stay away.”

Everyone went quiet. They all looked down or away or at their phones or at Julie’s laptop. Anywhere but at me.

“What happened to Nina?” I said, loudly. Julie looked up. “That should be our hashtag. Our campaign name. Whatever. That’s what we’re searching for. For the truth.”

“I think that will work,” Julie said slowly. “It will draw people in. Make them feel like they’re part of something. A quest for the truth.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go with that.”

Andy started explaining to me the plan they’d begun to develop when I was out of the room. Julie wanted to set up a Facebook group. Something she could use to invite people to join the search and then keep them informed about future campaign plans. Alice was already working her way through her contacts by phone, asking everyone she knew to join the search party.

“A lot of people are working tomorrow,” she said apologetically. “But I have eight yeses so far, and all of them are going to invite two more people each.”

“We need posters,” Andy said.

“I know a graphic designer who can design a poster for us,” Sofia said. Sofia had a very slight accent. She’d moved to the US from Denmark with her family in her late teens. Her English was perfect, but she still pronounced her words precisely, in that Danish way. “If you are okay with it, Leanne, I’ll make a call. Printing can be expensive, but I think I can call in a few favors.”

I felt a sudden wave of gratitude wash over me, so powerful that it left me dizzy and blinking back tears. But before I had a chance to thank her, a voice came from behind me.

“Am I interrupting something?”

I turned around and saw Matthew Wright standing in the doorway. He was back in what I was fast coming to recognize as his personal version of a uniform. Navy pants, navy hiking boots, navy jacket. I hadn’t heard him arrive. He must have let himself in through the front door.

“You didn’t ring the bell,” I said.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com