Satisfied no imminent threat exists, Deputy Filmore leaves his card and drives back to Millport. Exhaustion drags Hensel and Laurie into sleep. Darcy lies awake, watching the shadows move across the window.
***
Frost glistens over the meadow when Darcy awakens the next morning. She can’t see Hunter and Jennifer, both teens nestled beneath the covers. Her shoulders and hip ache from sleeping on the floor, and a deep cold pours through the drafty house, locking her joints while she pads on bare feet toward the bathroom. Hensel is sound asleep on the couch when Darcy creeps down the stairs. One squeal is all it takes for Hensel to pop his eyes open and reach for his gun.
“Don’t shoot, cowboy,” Darcy says as she stokes the coals in the wood stove. “How did you sleep?”
“Like a baby.”
When Hensel reaches for his back again, Darcy doubts he’s being truthful.
“In my experience, babies scream all night and mess their diapers. Coffee?”
“Sure.”
Darcy starts a pot of water boiling and slips her sweatshirt on, clutching her elbows with a shiver.
“This place is like an icebox. If it gets any colder, I’ll see my breath. I always figured Georgia was warmer than this.”
Hensel half-shuffles, half-limps into the kitchen and looks out the window.
“You won’t see much snow down this way, but mornings will take your breath away during the heart of winter. It shouldn’t be this cold in early December, though.”
“The news says it snowed again last night in Virginia. I’ve never seen it this cold so early.”
Darcy drops a sliver of butter in the pan and pulls eggs out of the refrigerator, hoping the scent of breakfast will rouse Laurie and the kids.
“Why are you up so early?” Hensel asks, nodding his chin at Darcy.
“There’s a home repair store a block from the grocery market. If they have steel doors, I’m replacing the back door. I can’t sleep knowing someone could walk inside in the middle of the night. A new door will help with this damn draft too.”
“Want company?”
“If you don’t mind. An extra set of hands would be nice.”
Laurie runs her hand through her hair and itches her forehead as she staggers bleary-eyed into the kitchen.
“You must really want to put a guilt trip on me. First you uproot your lives and take the world’s worst vacation, and now you’re cooking breakfast for me.”
“Never said the eggs are for you,” Darcy says with a wink. “Eric and I will drive into town after breakfast. Need us to pick up anything?”
“You’re doing too much as is.” When Hensel leaves the room, Laurie joins Darcy at the stove. “Hey, I don’t want you to think I’m unappreciative. Yeah, I have doubts about this stalker thing, but after what Deputy Filmore said, you might be right. And if you are…”
Laurie shivers.
“I hope I’m wrong, Laurie. If I’m off base, there’s no downside. We spent time together, and that’s a good thing. When was the last time we spent more than a day together?”
“That’s the problem with phones and everyone being online. We think we’re connected, but we’ve never been farther apart. It’s good to see you and the kids. But about this guy. The truth is I’m scared.”
Darcy draws Laurie into a hug. When they part, Laurie reaches for the spatula and pushes the eggs around.
“Eric and I are replacing the back door.” Laurie looks like she wants to argue, then she nods and reaches for her wallet. Darcy holds up her hand. “Hold on to your money.”
“Oh, come on. I can pay for my own repairs.”
“After. We won’t know the cost until we get there. Besides, I know where to find you if you don’t pay up.”
Laurie giggles.
“Don’t worry. I’m good for the money. Listen, while the two of you go into town, I’d like to take Hunter and Jennifer to the mall. It’s an hour drive, but it’s worth the trip. They have two hundred stores and a food court.”
Letting the kids out of her sight sets Darcy on edge. Still, Hunter and Jennifer need to experience something besides miles of dead, wilted grass.
“That’s fine. It might make them feel like normal teenagers for a few hours. Take the Prius. You’ll get better mileage on the highway. We’ll use your truck to load the new door.”
By the time the five of them cycle through the shower, milky sunshine melts the frost and takes the chill out of the air. Jennifer rolls her eyes, and Hunter gives a disinterested shrug when Darcy cautions them to keep their eyes open while they’re at the mall. Any stranger could be an enemy, even inside a shopping center holding a few thousand people.
“Feel like driving this morning?” Darcy asks Hensel. The BAU agent holds a thermos of coffee.
“No problem.”
Darcy tosses the keys to Hensel, who slides behind the wheel. Darcy climbs into the cab, closing her eyes as she pinches the bridge of her nose.
“Stop worrying about Hunter and Jennifer,” he says, setting the thermos between his knees. “Your cousin is a tough cookie. She won’t let anything happen to the kids.”
Darcy forces a wan smile, but she senses the distance from her kids grow as they pull away.
Steel doors at the Scarlet River hardware store run double what Darcy would expect to pay at a chain retailer, but the stock boy carries the door to the car and wedges it into the rear of the truck. She’ll sleep better knowing an intruder trying to break inside will have a fight on his hands.
Hensel turns the wrong way out of the parking lot and takes them down a street Darcy doesn’t recognize. It isn’t until he turns at the intersection, intending to reverse direction, that Darcy spots the marker for route 32 off the shoulder.
“Hey, the diner the barkeep mentioned is on this road,” Darcy says, searching for the restaurant.
“Maury’s.”
“That’s the one.”
Hensel studies Darcy from the corner of his eye.
“I suppose you’ll want to stop.”
He answers the question for himself with a nod.
Maury’s Diner appears cobbled together by two generations of owners, the main building red brick with a blue awning over the front door. A white vinyl-sided expansion juts out to the right. The roar of a tractor trailer speeding behind the trees announces the highway, and two eighteen-wheelers park horizontally at the rear of the parking lot.
Opening the front door unleashes the scents of fried burgers and fresh baked pies. The clatter of utensils against plates sing of organized chaos as patrons come and go. Though she finished breakfast two hours ago, Darcy’s eyes wander to the menu on the wall.
“Table for two?”
The leggy waitress wears a coral shirt and skirt. A pencil sticks out from behind her ear. Tall and muscular with auburn curls past her shoulders, the woman was once a cheerleader or sports star during school. Her makeup doesn’t conceal the hint of crow’s feet. The name tag reads Margaret.
Darcy glances at Hensel, who shrugs.
“I could go for a slice of pie,” Hensel says.
“So just dessert?”
“Sure,” Darcy says as the waitress grabs two dessert menus. “And if you have a moment to speak with us after, we’d be obliged.”
Margaret’s jaw drops when Hensel displays his FBI badge. She glances toward the kitchen as if worried one of the cooks is a wanted man.
He raises his hand and says, “We only want to ask a few questions about the trucker who came through here a month ago. The guy who claims he saw the girl on the poster out front.”
Margaret touches her heart and exhales.
“Nina Steyer. Sure, I was here that day. Let me show you to your table, and I’ll get your orders going. My shift ends at the top of the hour, if you want to talk.”