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Sophie’s response came quickly:If anybody can find her, you can. See you soon.
Bile bit into Jo’s throat as she stared at the message. This felt like a betrayal, like she was some sort of cheating wife sneaking off to see a lover. She wanted to be upfront right now, from the start, but dumping that on Sophie while she was with Matt and the girls would ruin the outing. So, stomach churning, she shoved her phone away and strode to her Chevy Volt.
Ten minutes later Jo pushed into the brick-wall-and-brass interior of the café and, amid the rich coffee aroma swirling around her, scanned for Chelsea. She’d only seen David’s mistress once before—in a picture of them kissing—but that image was burned into her memory, and she spotted the butter-blonde curls immediately. Dressed in a pink maternity top dotted with sunflowers, Chelsea sat at a table with two other women, all three gripping their cups with worried expressions. One, also pregnant, was white with auburn waves and bright hazel eyes; clad in sophisticated neutrals, her easy, casual grace sent an image of Jackie O flashing through Jo’s mind. The other woman, a brown-eyed Latina with straight raven hair, kept an eye on the other two without seeming to.
Chelsea spotted her as she approached and started to rise, bracing her back with one hand. “Jo?”
The too-casual use of her nickname was nails on her mental chalkboard. But she’d decided the best way to handle the situation was to treat Chelsea like any other witness she was meeting for the first time. As for how she’d deal with Sophie, well, she was still praying for divine inspiration before dinner.
“Please, don’t get up.” Jo met Chelsea’s eyes, then turned to the other two women. “I’m Detective Josette Fournier of the Oakhurst County State Police Detective Unit. You’re friends of Madison?”
“We are.” Jackie O pointed to the free chair. “Please sit. I’m Naomie Alexander, and this is my aunt-in-law, Julia Gagnon.”
Jo shook each woman’s hand, then sat. “How do you know Madison?”
“Primarily through our prenatal exercise class.” Naomie nodded across the table. “Julia teaches the class. But I’ve known Madison a little longer, since I’m the head of administration at Beautiful Bouncing Babies, the non-profit that holds the class.”
Jo kept her tone neutral. “So, you’ve only known her for a few months?”
Chelsea jumped in. “We’ve become close quickly. Pregnancy is such anintenseexperience. We have three evening classes every week, and we hang out after our Friday class. Like happy hour with juice instead of alcohol.”
“Got it.” Jo refrained from pointing out that, no matter how many exercise classes were involved, there was a limit to how deep a friendship could run in such a short time. “Ms. Whitens gave me a quick version of why you’re all concerned. Ms. Alexander, can you walk me through the day again?”
“Naomie, please.” Once Jo nodded acknowledgment, Naomie recapped essentially the same story Chelsea had told Jo. “So we called her mother, but Madison had already taken the dog for a walk when she woke up. She assumed Madison had just stayed at the park to study, because she does that sometimes.”
Jo pulled out her notepad and pen. “Her mother lives with her?”
“Yes, in an apartment in Phelpston. Her mother’s sick, so she moved in with Madison.” Chelsea tapped at her phone. “I’m texting you a recent picture of her.”
Naomie sent Chelsea a quick, wary glance. “I’m sure it doesn’t matter, but Madison never moved out. They live in the apartment Madison grew up in.”
“Oh, right, sorry.” A slash of pink flushed Chelsea’s cheeks.
Naomie laid a gentle, brief hand on Chelsea’s forearm. “I only know because I took down all her financial details at Triple-B.”
Jo pulled up the picture. Madison was younger than Naomie and Chelsea by about a decade, with a girl-next-door type of prettiness telegraphed with brown hair and eyes over an infectious dimpled smile. “Her mother’s sick?”
Julia answered. “COPD that recently progressed into emphysema. She’s now on continual oxygen.”
Jo nodded. Her uncle Hebert, a life-long two-pack-a-day smoker, had recently been diagnosed with emphysema and put on oxygen. “So when Madison didn’t return from her walk, her mother assumed she was studying. Are you sure that isn’t the case?”
Naomie’s hands rubbed the sides of her coffee cup. “She’d have picked up when we called. She always had her phone on at least vibrate in case her mother needed her.”
“And there’s just no way she would have missed shopping with us.” Chelsea’s head thrashed back and forth. “Naomie was going to pick out Madison’s shower gift at the boutique, so she’d have been insane to—” She stopped abruptly.
Jo’s antennae went up, and she quickly scanned the women’s expressions. Naomie’s: slight distress. Julia’s: distaste directed at Chelsea. “Insane to what?”
Chelsea cleared her throat. “I normally wouldn’t say something so rude, but Madison was…struggling financially. The chance to pick out something at such a high-end store was a big deal.”
A new understanding fell over Jo. Madison wasn’t like these women, who each wore hundreds of dollars of designer clothing and jewelry. She recalibrated the group dynamics, tailoring her image of Madison, then resumed. “Does she have a romantic partner? Someone she might be with and forgotten the time?”
The women glanced at each other; Naomie answered. “She’s single and not dating.”
Something in their expressions pulled at her. “She’s not with her baby’s father, then?”
“She’s not,” Naomie answered. “He doesn’t know about the baby.”
A thousand unpleasant possibilities sprung up in Jo’s head, and her fragile hope that Madison was okay began to crack. “What’s his name?”
