Frank held up a gentle finger. “The person that came forward risked a lot to tell us where you might be and who might be responsible for this. I know this is scary. You feel threatened. But we can’t let them get away with this.”
Ted stepped to the other side of the bed. “He’s right. What this person did is horrible. You could’ve died.” He took her hand. “We’re here for you. Nothing is going to happen, I promise.”
Gabby remained expressionless, seemingly staring straight through her father. “I don’t know what happened. I didn’t see anything. I don’t know anything.”
18
Damien stood at the printer, his fingers tapping against its white, plastic top. The paper couldn’t come out any slower. It had already jammed twice.
“Come on,” he muttered.
He took a deep breath and turned away from it for a moment. The large east window showed the glory of morning. Soft-hued light spread over the horizon, melting into the dark sky like watercolor.
Damien walked to the window, pressing his hands against the glass, looking over the town from the eighth floor of the tallest-and newest-building in Marlo. It seemed cradled, trees and rivers swaddling it on all sides. Safe. Pure. Beautiful.
“Hey.”
Damien turned. Bruce stood behind him, a grim look on his face.
“Hey, Bruce. You’re in early.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m about to drop dead.”
Bruce stared at him, his face strangely absent of emotion. “Is there something you want to say to me?”
“Say to you?”
“Yeah. Say to me.”
“No, what’s on your mind?”
“I just believe that if there’s something you want to say to someone, you should say it to them.”
“I believe that also,” Damien said, starting to bristle.
“Are you sure there’s nothing you need to say to me?”
“I’m positive. What’s this about?”
Bruce glanced away as if he needed a moment to settle himself down. “I read something on that Web site. Someone doesn’t like how I write my articles. Doesn’t like my use of vocabulary.”
Damien groaned. “It wasn’t me, okay? I mean, is my name mentioned?”
“No. Neither is mine.” His gaze fixed on Damien. “But sometimes you gotta read between the lines.”
“And sometimes you have to trust that a friendship is more powerful than a few words you read on a Web site.”
Bruce looked caught between relief and indignation. So he just turned and left.
Damien took a moment to compose himself. After the night he’d had, this was what he had to deal with?
Damien returned to the printer, grabbed the pages, and walked to Edgar’s office.
What he didn’t expect to see was Edgar’s startled face as he pushed himself away from the computer and leaned in to quickly punch a button. His face, red and flustered, remained expressionless as he looked at Damien. “Yeah?”
“Here’s our headline,” Damien said, holding up the pages.
“‘Found Alive.’ Perfect.” Edgar stood and stretched his back. “Do you know the last time we put out a special evening edition was when that bank was robbed? Nothing bad ever happens here, which makes for a great place to live and a horrible place to be a newspaperman. The only controversy around was those op-ed pieces you wrote when you were in a bad mood.” He took a breath as he skimmed over Damien’s paper. “Did you hear?”
“What?”
“The police department is offering a reward.”
“For the person who did this to Gabby?”
“No, for the person who’s running the Web site.”
“Really? I thought they weren’t investigating it.”
Edgar grinned. “I guess we changed their mind.” He sat down, folding his chubby hands together as his chair creaked to hold his weight. “All right, I want something good ready to roll tonight. This investigative piece is great. I won’t lie; you’re becoming a dandy reporter. But I also want something from the heart. What’s on your mind with this kidnapping and near murder of this girl? I want a symphony, got it?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Damien started to leave. “Hey, who told you about the reward from the police department?”
Something flickered across Edgar’s expression, then disappeared into another grin. “Maybe I read it on the Web site.”
Damien returned to his desk. Only adrenaline had caused him to go strong for the last few hours. Now all he wanted was a bed. But Edgar was right. There had never been anything like this before in Marlo. And if he could make any difference at all with what he had to say, then there was no time to waste.
Except something seemed wrong. With everything. With everyone. Like he was living inside the movie Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
He glanced around the room. Everyone was hunched over his or her keyboard, drawn into some other world.
Damien’s hands hovered over his own keyboard. Thoughts numbered like random words on page after page. He had to organize them, make them concise, put them to use without a heavy hand. Nobody wanted to be preached to. What did they want?
Truth.
Hope.
Well-being.
But what they once had was no longer. Damien typed his headline: “What Lies Beneath.”
“Where’s Jenna?” Hunter asked as he cut up his Eggo.
“Upstairs. I’m letting her sleep in. This whole thing with Gabby really upset her.”
“I’m glad Gabby’s okay,” Hunter said quietly.
Kay came over and hugged him from behind. He always had such a tender heart. “I know. These things often don’t turn out well.” She stepped to the side and touched his face. “Are you all right?”
“I’m good. I better get going though.”
Kay walked back to the table. “It’s kind of early. And remember, I said that you can’t ride your bike to school. Not until this person is caught. Hold on. I’ll drive you. Let me run upstairs and throw on some sweats.”
Hunter sighed. “Look, I realize you’re freaked out and I’ll allow you some freak-out time. Just don’t go overboard. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Like insist that you embed a GPS tracking device under your skin?” Kay smiled.
Hunter laughed. “Exactly. I’ll be in the car.”
Upstairs, Kay jumped into a cozy sweat suit and slid on old sneakers. As she started back across the room, Jenna stirred.
Kay sat on the edge of the bed and clicked the lamp on. “I let you sleep in a little, but you better get up and get to school. I’m going to run Hunter in and I’ll be back. I’ll write you a note to be excused.”
Jenna peeled open her eyelids. “Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t make me go.”
“What?”
“Please. Can I stay home today?”
Kay smoothed the hair out of Jenna’s face and touched the back of her hand to her cheek. “You’re feeling bad?”
“No. I just don’t… I want to stay home.”
Kay nodded. She couldn’t imagine how traumatizing this must’ve been for her. “Sure. You can stay home. Get some more sleep and I’ll fix you some breakfast in about an hour.”
Jenna rolled over and Kay turned off the lamp. As she stood in the doorway looking at Jenna, she thanked God that her daughter wasn’t involved.
Frank got out of Detective Murray’s car, and both men stood on the curb for a moment, observing the house. A small sign near the mailbox boasted lawn service. The sidewalk leading to the house was swept clean enough to belong on the inside. Bushes lined the porch, and a grotesquely large Christmas wreath hung on the red front door. Two luxury SUVs were parked in the driveway.
“Somebody’s home,” Murray said, running his thumbs along the inside waistband of his pants before hiking them up a notch. “Let’s go.”
Frank tapped on the front door and stepped back to provide a clear view from the peephole.
A few seconds later the front door opened. A middle-aged woman with crunchy-looking blonde hair pinned back with diamond-studded barrettes blinked at them. “Yes?” she asked, shading her face from a sun that had barely made its entrance into the sky.