Gone Girl

a man.’
    ‘No, he just said she was afraid,’ I said. ‘There is that Noelle Hawthorne girl – the one who lives near us. She told the police she was best friends with Amy when I know she wasn’t. They weren’t even friends . Her husband says she’s been in hysterics. That she was looking at pictures of Amy, crying. At the time I thought they were Internet photos, but … what if they were actual photos she had of Amy? What if she was stalking Amy?’
    ‘She tried to talk with me when I was a little busy yesterday,’ Rand said. ‘She quoted some Amazing Amy stuff at me. Amazing Amy and the Best Friend War , actually. “Best friends are the people who know us best.”’
    ‘Sounds like Hilary,’ I said. ‘All grown up.’
    We met Boney and Gilpin just after seven a.m. at an IHOP out along the highway for a showdown: It was ridiculous that we were doing their job for them. It was insane that we were the ones discovering leads. It was time to call in the FBI if the local cops couldn’t handle it.
    A plump, amber-eyed waitress took our orders, poured us coffee, and, clearly recognizing me, lingered within eavesdropping distance until Gilpin scatted her away. She was like a determined housefly, though. Between drink refills and dispensing of utensils and the magically quick arrival of our food, our entire harangue came in limp bursts. This is unacceptable … no more coffee, thanks … it’s unbelievable that … uh, sure, rye is fine …
    Before we were done, Boney interrupted. ‘I understand, guys, it’s natural to want to feel involved. But what you did was dangerous. You have got to let us handle this kind of thing.’
    ‘That’s just it, though, you aren’t handling it,’ I said. ‘You’d never have gotten this information, about the gun, if we didn’t go out there last night. What did Lonnie say when you talked to him?’
    ‘Same thing you said he said,’ Gilpin said. ‘Amy wanted to buy a gun, she was scared.’
    ‘You don’t seem that impressed by this information,’ I snapped. ‘Do you think he was lying?’
    ‘We don’t think he was lying,’ Boney said. ‘There’s no reason for the guy to invite police attention to himself. He seemed very struck by your wife. Very … I don’t know, rattled that this had happened to her. He remembered specific details. Nick, he said she was wearinga green scarf that day. You know, not a winter scarf but a fashion-statement scarf.’ She made fluttery moves with her fingers to show she thought fashion to be childish, unworthy of her attention. ‘Emerald green. Ring a bell?’
    I nodded. ‘She has one she wears with blue jeans a lot.’
    ‘And a pin on her jacket – a gold cursive A?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Boney shrugged: Well, that settles it .
    ‘You don’t think he might have been so struck by her that he … kidnapped her?’ I asked.
    ‘He has an alibi. Rock-solid,’ Boney said, giving me a pointed look. ‘To tell the truth, we’ve begun to look for … a different kind of motive.’
    ‘Something more … personal,’ Gilpin added. He looked dubiously at his pancakes, topped with strawberries and puffs of whipped cream. He began scraping them to the side of his plate.
    ‘More personal,’ I said. ‘So does that mean you’re finally going to talk to Desi Collings, or Hilary Handy? Or do I need to?’ I had, in fact, promised Marybeth I’d go today.
    ‘Sure, we will,’ Boney said. She had the placating tone of a girl promising her pesky mom to eat better. ‘We doubt it’s a lead – but we’ll talk to them.’
    ‘Well, great, thanks for doing your job, kind of,’ I said. ‘And what about Noelle Hawthorne? If you want someone close to home, she’s right in our complex, and she seems a little obsessed with Amy.’
    ‘I know, she’s called us, and she’s on our list.’ Gilpin nodded. ‘Today.’
    ‘Good. What else are you doing?’
    ‘Nick, we’d actually like you to make some time for us, let us pick your brain a bit more,’ Boney said. ‘Spouses often know more than they realize. We’d like you to think a bit more about the argument – that barnburner your neighbor Mrs., uh, Teverer overheard you and Amy having the night before she went missing.’
    Rand’s head jerked toward me.
    Jan Teverer, the Christian casserole lady who wouldn’t meet my eye anymore.
    ‘I mean, could it have been because – I know this is hard to hear, Mr Elliott – because Amy was under the influence of something?’ Boney asked.