Page 35 of Circle of Strangers
Oscar’s face is pale, his hair disheveled like he’s been raking his hands through it over and over. His eyes dart around the room, focused and unfocused, before landing on me.
This can’t be good.
I feel it in my marrow, raw and pulsing.
“Camille,” Oscar says, his voice rough and shaky, “I haven’t seen Mara since yesterday. She was gone when I got home from work and she didn’t come home last night. She’s not answering her phone. Her location’s off. Her car’s in the garage. I thought ... I thought maybe she was upset with me about something ... I thought she just needed to cool off and maybe went to grab drinks with a friend but now that I haven’t heard from her, I’m starting to get worried. This isn’t like her.”
My stomach tightens. “What do you mean?”
Oscar pulls at his hair again, pacing a few steps before stopping abruptly.
Rising from my seat, I hook my hand into the bend of his elbow and lead him into the kitchen. Will follows. My children don’t need to witness this—whatever it is.
He looks like a man dangling on the edge of panic, a man whose world is two seconds from caving in. “It’s not like her.”
I swallow hard, keeping my voice steady. “Mara was here yesterday afternoon, she left around four. I assumed she went home after that. I haven’t heard from her.”
Oscar’s expression crumples, and for a split second, I catch a glimpse of something distorted and unnerving—as if he suspectsIhad something to do with this.
I fold my hands in front of my hips, maintaining an air of calm composure while internally, my mind is spinning, trying to work the pieces together. Did Mara run off to teach Oscar a lesson, or did she confront him and he snapped?
He’s a desperate man with a temper and secrets. He could easily be playing the part of a grieving husband. Setting the stage for the act about to unfold.
“We’ll keep an eye out,” Will says, his voice assuring and steady, as if none of this is of grave concern to him—which is slightly concerning to me. He’s almost too collected. “Let us know if you hear anything.”
Oscar gives a jerky nod, looking like he’s barely holding it together. His lower lip quivers. If I didn’t know him from Adam, I’d think hewas genuinely worried something happened to her. But people lie all the time. And if he’s like me, he can turn on waterworks without much effort.
“I’d appreciate that. Sorry to bother you guys in the middle of dinner.” Oscar turns and walks out, but not before casting one last, frantic glance toward the street, as if hoping Mara will suddenly appear from the shadows.
When the door clicks shut behind him, I exhale and turn toward Will. My mind goes to Mara’s pendant, the one I found in our bedroom earlier today. I was planning to mention it to Will later tonight, after the kids go to bed.
“Do you think something happened to her?” I ask.
Will’s head jerks toward me, his eyes wide, just as clueless as me. “God, I hope not.”
He runs a hand through his hair, a familiar streak of worry lines forming above his brow. “Maybe she went to a hotel or something. You said they’ve been having marital issues. People do that when they need space,” he says.
“I don’t know. She mentioned to me she thinks her husband is talking to other women and then she ... vanishes without a trace that very same night? And Oscar waits a whole day to tell us he can’t find her?”
“I’m not disagreeing with you. It’s all very suspicious.” He walks over to the tablet we use for our home security system and pulls up the camera feed. “Let’s see if the cameras caught anything. Do we have a view of their house?”
I shake my head. “Just the edge of their driveway gate, but with all the shrubs, there’s nothing to see.”
He taps through the feed, but just as I said, there’s nothing—only shadows and an empty street. He sighs, setting the tablet back on the counter.
“You’re not still planning to go golfing with Oscar on Friday, are you?” I ask, my tone sharper than I intended.
Will turns to me, head cocked at my admittedly stupid question. “Obviously not if Mara’s still missing.”
The unspoken aspects of the situation claw at the back of my throat—the dating app, the messages Oscar sent me, all wiped away now like they never existed, the confrontation at the coffee shop. All secrets that’ve disappeared into thin air, leaving nothing but questions in its place, and now there’s a missing neighbor’s necklace in our bedroom.
At the end of the day, the equation is quite simple: I was catfishing her husband on a dating app, she was flirting with mine at a party, her necklace mysteriously made its way to our bedroom, and now she’s missing.
The whole thing is uncomfortably intertwined.
But I can’t tell Will any of that.
Because if heisinvolved with Mara, he can’t know that I’m onto him.
