“What would make all the cameras go out at once?”
“That’s the strange part. You might lose a camera to a faulty connection or a defect with the unit. But all of them? Not unless the battery backup died.”
“It rained last night. Could a storm have knocked the cameras out?”
“No chance. As far as I can tell, the cameras never stopped working. For some reason the video signal never made it back to the main system. I have to be honest. I’ve installed these systems for fifteen years and never encountered an issue like this.”
“Now I’m confused,” Darcy says with a groan. “The same time the cameras failed, we lost power to the house, and that shouldn’t happen because I have a whole house generator.”
“I can take a look if you want.”
Scott follows Darcy out to the deck. The generator slumbers against the far corner of the house.
“Huh,” Scott says, leaning on the deck rail. “I can see your problem from here. The cable isn’t attached.”
A black cable curls in the grass like a rat snake.
“It was attached yesterday.”
“I’ll hook it up if you want. Won’t take me but a few seconds.”
With no break in the line, it’s clear someone unhooked the generator cable. Bronson told her last night he’d check outside. Had he examined the generator? Even in the dark, he couldn’t miss something this obvious.
“I’ll run back to the van and grab new cameras,” Scott says, cupping his eyes from the gray light as he peers up at the camera fixed over the deck. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with these units, but I’ll change them out just to be sure. Should take me an hour if you don’t mind me banging around out here.”
The Gilmore van drives away before Hunter dodders out to the kitchen for a glass of water. His hair is a rat’s nest, and he’s wearing yesterday’s clothes. Putting aside the dishes, Darcy tells Hunter to have a seat. He grumbles and slouches in the chair, rubbing at his head and battling a migraine.
“We need to talk, Hunter.”
“What did I do this time?”
The earbuds hang around his neck. Darcy grabs his phone and pauses the music.
“You scared the hell out of me last night disappearing on Bronson, and it’s not the first time. I understand you need time to yourself and what it’s like to want to get away when bad shit keeps happening. But it’s not safe, and you need to tell us where you are. Where did you go last night? Don’t tell me you spent the entire time looking for Amy.”
He shrugs and itches his neck. His shirt collar slumps down, and Darcy notices a purple bruise between the neck and shoulder. It could have happened playing football, but Darcy can’t tell for certain.
“Come on, Hunter. Talk to me.”
“I drove past her house in Smith Town like I said, and then I kept looping down the coast road and back to the highway, passing her house each time. After that, I cut through the village and drove down Main Street.”
“And then?” He stares at his hands. “What did you do the other three hours?”
“Just…drove. And walked, I guess.”
“Walked where?”
“Everywhere. Like I went past those new apartment buildings on the west side of Smith Town. I figured maybe she’d be down there.”
“Hunter, that’s a high crime area.”
“I wasn’t scared.”
“I don’t care if you weren’t scared. It’s dangerous. And why did you shut me out? You ignored my calls.”
The silver window light turns his face ashen, dead.
“I had the phone off.”
“Why?”
“Can’t I relax for five seconds without someone always calling me? Fuck.”
Darcy flinches at his raised voice.
“That was unnecessary.”
“I didn’t mean to swear.”
“You’re grounded from the car for another week. Hunter, do you want someone to talk to? There’s a good doctor on the other side of the cove.”
“I don’t need a shrink.”
“Then talk to me. Or your sister. Or—”
“Bronson?”
“Would that be a problem?”
Hunter’s jaw shifts.
“It’s a little weird how much time he spends here. I mean, it’s not his house. It’s yours, right?”
“Hunter, Bronson likes you and Jennifer. It’s a good idea to have a man around the house, especially an ex-cop, keeping an eye on everyone until the police catch whoever killed that girl.”
“He’s not Dad.”
His words make her wince.
“Is that what this is about? Hunter, nobody wants to replace your father.”
She reaches over and brushes the hair off his brow. His eyes are red and infused with an injury Darcy hasn’t recognized until now.
“I still think about your Dad, Hunter. I never stopped loving him or wishing he was here with us. From now on when you feel overwhelmed, please come to me. Let me help.”
Hunter nods.
“I’ll try to do better.”
“Oh, honey, you’re doing the best you can. We all are. Stop beating yourself up.” Darcy sorts through a stack of mail on the table. Ironically, the first bill from Gilmore arrived. “What do you have planned today? Bethany hasn’t been around much. How about you call her over?”
“I don’t know. She’s busy with student council meetings. If I can’t take the car…”
“Not this week.”
“Then I thought I’d walk down to the cove and follow the shore toward the public beaches. See if Amy came through.”
Darcy peers out the window at the gray sky.
“The weatherman says no rain this afternoon, but you better take a jacket just in case.”
“Sure.”
Darcy hugs Hunter before he locks himself in his room. She drops the car keys in her pocket, figuring she has an hour to canvas the town before picking up groceries for dinner. She warns her daughter not to answer the door for anyone but Bronson. The only response is a sniffle.
When Darcy returns from the store with groceries, night creeps down and darkens the autumn sky.
And Hunter hasn’t come home.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
We all reach a breaking point, a point at which the slightest tug drags us from balance to insanity. Darcy is here now.
Calling Hunter’s phone proves to be fruitless. It rings inside his bedroom, where she finds it under an open bag of potato chips. A shooter video game plays on the computer screen, Hunter’s abandoned avatar gunned down as other players fire at each other from dilapidated buildings and bunkers. Like most teenagers, Hunter values his phone, and she can’t understand why he left without it.
“Jennifer, did you hear from your brother? Jennifer?”
The floor creaks inside Jennifer’s bedroom, then the door slowly opens, Jennifer still in her nightshirt and tipped against the jamb. Her face is drawn, eyes rimmed by red, hauntingly lifeless. Gloom blankets the room, shades drawn, an iPad providing the only light. I shouldn’t have left her alone, Darcy thinks.
“He left two hours ago.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“Hunter never tells me anything anymore.”
The door drifts shut and locks.
“Hey, Jennifer. Why don’t you help me in the kitchen?”
“I don’t feel good.”
“I know it hurts. After dinner, we’ll look for Amy. It’s a small area. She couldn’t have gone far.”
“She’s never coming back.”
“Don’t say that.”
“You know it’s true.”
Darcy tests the knob and rests her head on the door. Releasing a breath, she drags herself into the kitchen and puts away the groceries. She can’t bring herself to cook with Hunter missing. Again. And it’s getting late.