The bushes rattle in the meadow. Something moves through the brush, coming closer for a better look at the girl alone in the dark.
“Hunter, is that you?”
No answer comes.
Jennifer pockets the phone and runs for the house.
CHAPTER EIGHT
In the dingy morning light pouring through the bedroom window, Darcy narrows her eyebrows.
Hunter and Jennifer huddle under the blankets, eyes shut. Their sneakers lie jumbled at the foot of the bed, but a clump of grassy mud that wasn’t there when Darcy fell asleep lies beside the door. She nudges the dirt with the toe of her sneaker. The mud crumbles at the edges.
She lifts her sneakers and checks each. Then she turns over both teenagers’ sneakers and studies the treads. No mud, no grass.
Darcy sighs to herself and steps into the hallway, but as she shuts the door, she worries Hunter or Jennifer sneaked outside in the middle of the night. They wouldn’t take that large a risk. Would they?
The smell of bacon wafts up the stairs. Entering the kitchen, she finds Hensel flipping bacon while Laurie starts a pot of coffee.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Darcy asks, her brow creased as she waits beside the table.
Hensel reaches into the cupboard and removes the dinner plates.
“It’s okay,” Laurie says, taking the tongs from Hensel. “I’ll take over from here.”
While Laurie cracks an egg against the pan, Darcy pulls Hensel around the corner and into the living room.
“Did you hear anything in the middle of the night?”
“I slept straight through,” Hensel says. “Why? Something make you think Laurie’s stalker came back?”
“No, not that.” Darcy sighs and rubs her temples. “It’s probably nothing, but I found mud in the bedroom this morning and thought one of the kids sneaked out of the house last night.”
“You sure the mud wasn’t there last night?”
“Positive.”
Hensel sits on the arm of the couch.
“I didn’t see anyone come downstairs. Not to say someone didn’t get past me. I was pretty out of it. Any idea why Hunter or Jennifer would have gone outside?”
“The cell coverage. None of us get a decent signal inside the house.”
“And Hunter or Jennifer wanted to contact their friends without you knowing.”
“That’s the other reason. It scares the hell out of me they aren’t taking the danger seriously.”
“I’ll try to stay awake later tonight. See if anyone shows their face after the lights go out.”
“Don’t lose sleep on my account. I’m just being paranoid.”
Satisfied, Darcy follows Hensel into the kitchen.
“Did you call Quantico back?”
“They’re waiting to hear from the warden,” Hensel says, grabbing the orange juice from the refrigerator. “As of an hour ago, they hadn’t recovered Rivers’ phone.”
Laurie’s eyes shoot up at the mention of the serial killer.
“They won’t,” says Darcy, pushing the eggs around in the pan. “He paid someone well to keep his secrets safe. I’m surprised nobody opened the gates and let him walk out.”
“What’s on the docket for today?” Laurie asks as she plates their breakfasts.
“If he’ll meet with me, I’ll speak with Sheriff Tipton. Now that the FBI is looking into the Rivers phone call, he might view Sandy Young’s kidnapping in a different light.”
“You’re not going anywhere until you eat,” Laurie says, glaring at Darcy through the tops of her eyes. “If you lose another pound, you’ll blow away before Christmas.”
Eager to leave, Darcy rushes through breakfast. Hunter and Jennifer are still asleep when Darcy checks on them. His hair wet from the shower, Hensel throws on his jacket and tells Darcy to meet him at the door when she’s ready. She doesn’t get to the front door before her phone rings. A local number appears on the screen, and Darcy answers as she bounds down the stairs.
“Is this the woman from the FBI?”
The female’s southern twang sounds familiar to Darcy, who holds up a finger when Hensel sends her a questioning stare.
“Yes, this is Darcy Gellar. Who’s calling?”
“This is Margaret from Maury’s Diner. You told me to call you if that girl came by again. Well, she’s here right now.”
“Wait, Nina Steyer is at the diner?”
“I’m not saying it’s Nina, but it’s damn sure the girl who asked the truck driver for a ride. She’s talking to another trucker right now.”
Darcy hurries into her jacket and grabs the keys off the counter.
Lowering the phone to her chest, Darcy asks, “Can you keep an eye on the kids this morning? We’ll be back in a few hours.”
“I’ve got it covered,” Laurie says, standing aside as Darcy and Hensel rush out the door.
Hensel hustles ahead of her to the car where Darcy tosses him the keys and slides into the passenger seat. Darcy takes one last look at the house, shivering over the creeping sensation that the world has tilted off its axis as it did before the Darkwater Cove murders.
“Margaret, whatever you do, keep Nina at Maury’s. Don’t let her get in that truck, and don’t lose sight of her. I’m calling the sheriff now.”
In a cloud of dust, Hensel backs up and wheels the car around. As they speed toward town, Darcy reaches the County Sheriff’s Office and convinces Deputy Filmore to put her through to Tipton. The sheriff isn’t happy to hear from her, but his curiosity piques when she tells him Nina Steyer is at Maury’s.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Tipton says after shouting instructions to his deputies. “Don’t do anything until I arrive.”
Every light in Scarlet River turns red at their approach, and Darcy bounces her legs as she curses the traffic signals. The Prius is the only vehicle at the intersection three blocks from the diner. Hensel glances in both directions.
“Should I run the light?”
Darcy chews a nail.
“Do it.”
Hensel punches the gas and speeds from stop sign to stop sign until the diner materializes across the road. When they swerve into the parking lot, Margaret stands beside the door with her hands cupping her elbows. She shifts from foot to foot, the wind whipping hair across her face. Darcy knows Nina vanished again.
“Where is she?” Darcy asks, jogging toward Margaret.
“I tried to keep her here. I swear I did.”
Margaret’s chest hitches, and Darcy lays a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s okay. Where did you last see her?”
Margaret shakes her head at Darcy and scrunches her nose.
“She didn’t get in the truck. The guy noticed all the fuss and got cold feet over letting Nina hitch, then she disappeared. We were all watching her, all the wait staff and two of the cooks, but the commotion attracted a crowd. She must have blended in and escaped.”
Hensel glances around the parking lot and spots an eighteen-wheeler parked parallel to the fence.
“The trucker is still here?” he asks.
“In the diner. He’s seated at the counter.”
“Okay, let’s talk to this guy,” Hensel says to Darcy as the sheriff’s cruiser motors into the parking lot.
“Tipton looks pissed,” Darcy says, eyeing the sheriff through the cruiser’s windshield.
Hensel grimaces.
“Wait until he finds out it’s another false alarm.”
“Before you go inside,” Margaret says as she reaches into her pocket. “I took her picture.”