“How was it?” Darcy hopes they didn’t catch the jitter in her voice.
Jennifer talks faster than an auctioneer, listing all the cool stores they visited and how crowded the mall was with shoppers and teens their age. Hunter hangs back with a small upward tilt at the corner of his mouth. Typical Hunter. He hides his emotion and brushes off excitement as though he’s seen and done everything too many times.
“Mom, it was freaking three levels,” Jennifer says, swinging the largest bag over her opposite shoulder. “We didn’t even see all of it. Can we go back, please?”
“First, thank your cousin for taking you, then we’ll discuss future trips after I assess the damage you did to your wallet.”
Laurie accepts a brief and awkward hug from Hunter. Bouncing on her feet, Jennifer plants a kiss on Laurie’s cheek.
“They don’t have to thank me,” Laurie says, giving Jennifer a wink. “Now let’s get inside before I turn into an ice cube.”
In the kitchen, Jennifer and Hunter are too busy chattering to notice when Darcy pulls Laurie aside.
“Did you shut and lock the back door before you went to the mall?”
“I always lock my doors,” Laurie says, cracking open a can of Ginger Ale. She takes a drink and wipes her lips with the back of her sleeve. “Don’t tell me the wind blew it open again.”
“We came back and found it wide open.”
Laurie’s teeth chatter.
“That explains why it’s so cold. Thanks for loading the wood stove.”
“Listen, we installed the new door and replaced the wood where the frame rotted. But check around the house and make sure nothing is missing.”
“How did you finish so fast?”
“Teamwork. Do you want to see?”
“Hell, yeah.”
Hensel stands on a chair and affixes weather stripping around the frame when Laurie follows Darcy to the back door.
“This is amazing,” Laurie says, touching the door with a grin. “I can’t thank you enough, but I’ll start with my wallet.”
“First,” Darcy says, locking eyes with her cousin. “I’m serious about what I said. Check out the house so we’re sure nobody broke in.”
“The wind blew the door open, Darcy. That damn door was a thorn in my side since the day I moved in.”
“Let’s not take any chances.”
Laurie glances at Hensel, who nods in agreement.
“Okay, but I don’t own anything worth stealing.”
Fire crackles inside the wood stove and spreads pleasing warmth through the old house, the steel door paying immediate dividends. Laurie investigates the downstairs, and with Darcy in tow, she ensures none of her belongings are missing on the second floor.
“All good?”
“Like I said, it was the wind.”
A flash of light across the windows cuts Laurie off. Someone is in the driveway. Unspoken anxiety passes from Laurie to Darcy. Laurie doesn’t get visitors, especially after dark.
When they clamber down the stairs, Hensel stands in the open door and looks over his shoulder at Darcy. Curious, Darcy peers around Hensel at the brights beaming through the entryway like hurtling meteors. She shields her eyes as the engine cuts off, killing the lights. A sheriff cruiser. But it’s not Filmore paying Laurie another visit. Sheriff Tipton steps down from the cruiser and clicks the door shut as one of his deputies exits out the passenger side. The sheriff stares at the three adults in the entryway before he adjusts his hat and strides on long legs to the front porch. The deputy, a rotund man with a boyish face, folds his arms beside Tipton.
“Sheriff,” Hensel says in greeting.
The sheriff’s eyes look different from when Darcy last saw them. They’re piercing, accusatory. Visions of Genoa Cove flash through Darcy’s memory, and she’s tempted to slam the door shut and usher Hunter to safety so Tipton and his deputies can’t lock him up for a crime he didn’t commit. And someone has committed a crime. She’s certain. Darcy reads the truth on Tipton’s face as she spies the nearly full moon leering through a break in the clouds.
“Ms. Gellar and Mr. Hensel.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Where were the two of you between the hours of three and five this afternoon,” Tipton says, singling out Hensel and Darcy.
Hunter and Jennifer crowd behind Laurie. Darcy glances at her cousin, who nods and corrals Hunter and Jennifer into the kitchen.
“We were here,” Hensel says. “Working on the house.”
“Both of you?”
“Yes.”
Tipton chews his lip and jots a note on his pad.
“Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts?”
Darcy glances at Hensel in confusion.
“No,” Darcy says, folding her arms against the chill. “We spent the afternoon working on the house, and Laurie took my kids shopping out of town. They just returned. What’s this about?”
“We misplaced one of our children,” Tipton says, searching Darcy’s face for a reaction.
“I don’t understand.”
“The two of you need to come with me.”
Darcy looks back at Laurie, praying her kids hadn’t heard Tipton. Too late. Hunter tries to push past Laurie, who braces her arms against the counter and refrigerator to keep him from getting around her.
“Are you placing us under arrest?”
“No. Not at this time. But this will go a lot easier if you come with me.”
CHAPTER SIX
Darcy and Hensel sit at a wooden table inside a white room with one dark window she can’t see beyond. They’re inside an interrogation room. So much for Tipton claiming they weren’t under arrest. Three strips of florescent lights hum overhead, one row flickering every several seconds.
Joined at the front door by Filmore, the overweight deputy led Darcy and Hensel inside the interrogation room a half-hour ago and promised them Tipton would come inside. Still no Tipton, though Darcy hears them speaking in low tones outside the door.
“This is bullshit. Tipton knows he can’t hold us.”
“Take a breath,” Hensel says. “Whatever Tipton thinks he has on us, we’ve done nothing wrong. But blowing out of here will increase his suspicion that we have something to hide.”
Darcy’s mouth closes when the door opens. Tipton nods at the deputy in the hallway and shuts the door behind him. He rounds the table and pulls out the chair with the deliberate sluggishness of a dentist poking around a decayed molar. When he sits down, he sets his elbows on the table and leans toward them.
“You want to tell us what this is about?”
Hensel rests a hand on Darcy’s forearm. The salve doesn’t help. She’s stir crazy with impatience, exactly what Tipton wants.
The sheriff reveals the folder in his lap as Darcy shares a look with Hensel. Tipton removes a photograph of a young teenage girl with light brown hair, round, thoughtful eyes, and braces that sparkle from a camera flash. The lush, phony landscape and idyllic blue sky in the background marks the photo as a school picture. Tipton slides the photograph between Darcy and Hensel.
“Sandy Young of twenty-six Church Street in Scarlet River. Age fourteen.”
After divulging the girl’s age, Tipton watches their faces as he had on Laurie’s porch.
“What does this have to do with us?”
“She went missing this afternoon, last seen at Cass Park between three and five o’clock. Witnesses spotted the two of you in the park around this time.”
Tipton removes a second photograph. It’s a picture of Darcy and Hensel in the park approaching a group of women gathered around the swing set.