Page 8

Chapter Eight

M arty began taking pictures of the boards—of which there were six, each dedicated to a conspiracy. “Well, I understand why she kept the door to this insanity locked. I wouldn’t want anyone to see this, especially little Tamlin.”

“She’s in deep for fucking sure. You think this had to do with her divorce from Thad, or was it just that she’s a bossy pants gone over the edge?”

I blinked. “But none of them are about a basement or the school—which, by the way, doesn’t have a basement.”

I’d hoped maybe I could somehow tie a basement to the mention of our childrens’ school, but there isn’t one at the school. We only have a boiler room.

“The school?” Marty clarified.

Plucking at the picture of what looked like a fuzzy alien from Roswell with a postcard from Roswell, I nodded. “Yes. There’s no basement in the school. So the school and a basement aren’t tied into whatever Neerie was talking about in her texts to Earl and Thad. We have a boiler room, and that’s it. So she must have meant her own, but how does that tie into the school and are they even connected at all? Is it important to her disappearance?”

I’m not sure why that text about the basement was sticking in my craw, but it was stuck good.

Marty patted me on the arm. “I wouldn’t rule it out. So let’s get pictures of everything so we can examine them closer back at the castle and see if there’s a connection, and then we’ll go through the rest of the house.”

“Man,” Nina said on a grunt, tucking my arm under hers. “She really has gone off the deep end. If we find her, she’s gonna need help. You know that, right, Wanda? Like some serious mental health.”

I gnawed my lip. “But does she? I mean, Hank is real. What if all this other stuff she’s tracking is real, too?”

Marty swiped at a cobweb stuck to my trench coat. “But here’s the thing, Wanda. She’s lost in this. This isn’t a hobby. This is someone who’s fallen down the rabbit hole to the detriment of her well-being, sweetie. Even her sister said she hardly ever goes anywhere social. She has her groceries delivered. The only time she leaves the house is to take Tamlin to her classes and to handle the PTA meetings.”

I nodded, tears filling my eyes. “I wish I’d known. I would have offered my help, Marty—even as much as I disliked her.”

The guilt I felt for contributing to the gossip surrounding her came over me in a wave. I didn’t participate in what the other PTA mothers dished out loud, but I didn’t stop them either, and I certainly had thought about some of the very rumors swirling around Neerie.

Marty swiped at a tear racing along my cheek with her thumb. “How could you have known? She has a pretty abrasive exterior, honey. But what she’s really doing is filling the hole in her life since her divorce with this stuff, Wanda. She’s put up a wall, and just because Hank is real, doesn’t mean she should devote her entire life to proving it. She’s missing out on Tamlin’s childhood, because no one who puts this much effort into creating these boards has time for a whole lot else.”

Taking a deep breath, I looked around the dark, musty basement filled with whiteboards on easels. Totes of decorations for Halloween and Christmas, a couple of lawn chairs, a gas can, and not much else.

“You’re right. But if we find her, no matter how awful she can be, we’re getting her help for Tamlin’s sake, if nothing else.”

Nina pulled me to her side and gave me a squeeze before breaking the mood with her dislike of emotional displays. “Quit cryin’ like a panty waste, and let’s find her so we can help her. Hangin’ around and caterwaulin’ is gettin’ us nowhere. Now, let’s get the pics so we can search the upstairs of Holly Hobbie’s house.”

Nodding, I set about checking to make sure there was nothing more of interest hidden away in a tote or on one of the few shelves Neerie had before brushing my hands and heading up the steep steps to search the rest of the house.

We went room by room, checking to see if maybe she’d packed a bag to rendezvous with one of her conspiracy theory buddies, but nothing pointed to a hasty escape.

“Got her laptop!” Nina called from one of the bedrooms Neerie used as an office.

I plopped down on Neerie’s couch and closed my eyes, exhausted from lack of sleep. “Can you get into it?” I yelled back.

Nina hopped over the back of the couch and sat next to me. “Nah. We’re gonna need my Tater for that. But I bet it has the security cam app on it. I just can’t get to it until we get a password. You find anything else?”

“No. Nothing,” I said somberly. “We’re going in circles again, Nina. Only this time, the clock’s ticking. Neerie’s been gone for what, three days now? You know what they say about a missing person and finding them within the first forty-eight hours. If she didn’t run off, what happened?”

Nina patted my leg with a hard thump. “Stop watching all that true crime and buck up. It ain’t over till the fat lady sings, or in Neerie’s case, the insufferable lady. Never give up the ship. I won’t if you won’t.”

With a smile, I patted her hand, my heart swelling with love for my favorite vampire. “You’re my favorite BFF, Elvira.”

“She only says that so you won’t cry like a baby who lost her binky! I’m really her favorite!” Marty yelled from Tamlin’s bedroom.

“Pipe down in there, Blondie, and let’s get a move on. We have PTA moms to question!”

Marty poked her head out around the corner of the living room doorway and made a face. “I’m not looking forward to this meeting of the PTA minds. I don’t know how you deal with them day in and day out, Wanda. I’m not sure I’m even up for thirty minutes.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “If you thought this was going to be a thirty-minute meeting, you’re sorely misinformed. Those women could talk for thirty minutes about paint drying, given the op. But I promise to keep it as short and sweet as I can. Let’s get these pictures to Tottington, her laptop data, and the footage of her security cameras, too. Maybe we’ll get lucky. Will you fly this over to Tottington for me, please?”

Nina stood up and yanked me with her. “I will, now let’s get this shit moving. We have some bitches to question.”

Yawning, I followed them out of Neerie’s cute place with dread in the pit of my stomach. Once we let the cat out of the bag, there was no putting it back in.

* * *

One antacid, three aspirin, and three hours later, we were in the thick of the meeting with the PTA mothers after talking to a dozen teachers, but we weren’t getting very far. Everyone had a story to tell about Neerie, but no one had any idea where she’d disappeared to, and no one had heard her talk about anything fishy going on at the school.

Clearly, Neerie knew how her conspiracies would be received and she’d kept her cards close to the vest about her “obsession”.

The PTA moms had heard plenty about Neerie’s thoughts on Bigfoot, imposters in government, hoax school shootings, crisis actors, and her fear of 5G, but nothing directly involving the school.

Well, unless you count the time she told Shoshana Reed she’d bet her left arm Principal Mathers had a position in the Illuminati.

And maybe she did? Bigfoot is real. We can’t deny that, now can we?

I stood at the small podium, overlooking the twelve or so mothers who made up the PTA, and fought a scream. Tapping the mic, I interrupted the rapid chatter of their gossip. “Ladies! Please, could we settle down? There’s a missing woman involved here, and that woman has a small child all of your children attend school with. The clock is ticking.” I tapped my wrist and gave them all my best stern nun face.

As I watched all of them scramble to get their seats in the auditorium, their eyes on me, waiting to hear what I had to say, I still had to fight that scream I’d been bottling deep inside, and I didn’t know how to begin.

It dawned on me that these women all looked quite similar. How had I never noticed that before? It was as though one woman bled into the next. They had similar hairstyles, similar fashion sense (pleated-front slacks, pastel T-shirts, and oversized blazers in various shades of taupe; or yoga pants and tiny tees), hoop earrings, and the same winged black eyeliner with a matte red lip.

I looked down at my skirt and heels and wondered if I’d missed the memo.

Nina, not only one of my best friends in the whole world, but also capable of wrangling cats, came to stand beside me and cleared her throat.

“Listen up, Chatty Cathys, we have some serious shit going on. Now, line the hell up and be ready to tell us everything—correction— anything you think might help us find Neerie. And that she’s missing doesn’t turn into a chance for you all to gossip about it. What you hear in this room stays in this room. You will not jeopardize the safety of her kid. Understood? If I hear one of you spoke to anyone—your yoga instructor, your plumber, your damn lover—I will find you, and I’ll damn well make you wish your skin had been peeled off under the hot July sun. Feel me?” Then she flashed her fangs, making every last one of them cringe.

Marty jumped in them, wrenching the mic from Nina’s grip, clearing her throat and smoothing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “What my associate means to say is, this is very serious and your discretion is advised .”

The auditorium went silent then. You could have heard a pin drop before everyone rose and formed a line.

I smiled gratefully at my friends as I stepped off the stage and began questioning the first PTA mom.

I noted Melba the Mystic was the first in line, and I fought a roll of my eyes. I swear, if she told me she’d seen Neerie in a vision, I was going to have a meltdown. Her visions were a scream for party tricks, but not so much when someone’s life was on the line.

Yet, I kept my composure and began to ask the same stupid and what felt like pointless questions I’d asked everyone.

Melba looked at me with hesitant deep brown eyes before she gripped my arm. “Wanda, I know you think I’m a kook, so what I’m about to tell you is something you can take with a grain of salt, but I feel in my gut it means something.”

I stood very still, preparing myself to hear something outrageous, like Neerie was off in the Bermuda Triangle digging up downed planes. “I don’t think you’re a kook, Melba.”

I didn’t. Mostly. A little left of center? Yes. Full of bunk? Maybe. But she was harmless.

She wrinkled her nose and tugged at the length of her chic bob. “You do. Everyone does, but I’m secure enough in my abilities not to care. I have something to share with you, and you can take it or leave it.”

As the other women milled about while Marty and Nina questioned the next two in line, their chatter less frantic now, I decided it couldn’t hurt to hear what Melba had to say.

“Shoot,” I said with a smile while, from the corner of my eye, I noted Nina was questioning Solange. I tried not to worry she’d browbeat the poor woman.

“First, let me say, I wish Neerie no ill will. I’d never want to see her hurt or…whatever, but I’m going to be very honest. I don’t like her. Most of us don’t. She’s rude, pushy and so stinkin’ bossy. But I love little Tamlin, and that’s why I’m telling you what I’m about to tell you. Because even if Neerie’s a horror, her little girl is precious, and she deserves to know where her mother is.”

Gazing at her, I decided honesty was the best route as well. “Then I’ll be honest in return and tell you that I’m not fond of Neerie either. She makes being a part of the PTA difficult, but her sister is desperately worried about her, and for her sake, for Tamlin’s, we agreed to help. So please, anything you can tell me will be appreciated.”

“I saw Neerie. In the woods. I think it was the woods, anyway. I don’t know why she was there, but she sent a text to someone named Earl. She didn’t mean to send it to him. I don’t know who she meant to send it to, but I remember her frustration that she sent it to the wrong person. I felt it. It read, and I’m repeating this verbatim, ‘I have to go to the basement’.”

Blink-blink.