“Let’s talk first,” Max said.
“Let’s eat first.” I was no fool. Men were way calmer after they had some food in their stomachs. So was I.
Fifteen minutes later, we were gathered around the dining table with plates in front of us. Mom had insisted on supplying us with her famous taco casserole, thinking we’d been ordering pizza every night. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Max was a fantastic cook and we’d been eating well almost every night. I heated up her casserole and tossed the salad she’d made with the lettuce, tomatoes, and cucumbers she’d picked from her garden that morning.
The men ate heartily but silently for a few minutes; then Max threw down his fork and glared at Gabriel. “So?”
Gabriel looked up, gave Max a long, steady stare as he slowly swallowed his last bite. “Emily wasn’t home, man. There were no signs of foul play, but it looked like she hadn’t been home in more than a week.”
“She could be on a trip,” I said lamely.
“Where could she have gone?” Max stood up and walked away from the table, then turned and muttered, “Forget it. I have no right to know.”
“Don’t make me hit you,” I said mildly. The sad tone of his voice caused me to worry, and I hated worrying. “You have every right to worry about Emily’s safety. Now finish your dinner.”
“Yes, Mother,” he said, but at least he was half smiling. I really did sound like my mother sometimes, which probably turned off most guys. I glanced at Derek to see his reaction and caught him grinning at me. Proving once again that he wasn’t like most guys.
Max sat and took a few more bites, then threw down his fork again. “Okay, just tell me. Is someone else living there with her?”
So that was the bug that had been crawling up Max’s butt. He’d been worried that Emily might have moved on and found a boyfriend-or, worse, a husband. I couldn’t blame him for being concerned.
“She lives alone,” Gabriel said.
Max’s jaw clenched and he nodded briefly. “Okay.” He took another bite, then frowned at Gabriel. “Just for my own information, tell me what you look for when you go through someone’s house.”
Gabriel shrugged, then sat back in his chair. “The first thing I want to determine is how long it’s been since someone was in the house. There are clues to look for. Dates on milk cartons. Postmarks on a stack of mail. Dishes left out or washed and put away. Emily’s place was neat and tidy. That indicates she didn’t leave suddenly. The mail was postmarked over a week ago, but there was no mail stacked up in her mailbox, which means she arranged for someone to collect it. There was no indication that she left in a hurry or was abducted. She planned to go away.”
Max looked impressed. I know I was. Gabriel was way too good at this sort of thing.
“So for all we know, she could be on a cruise ship somewhere,” I said.
“Possibly,” Gabriel said. “I looked for signs of that, too. Women packing for a vacation often leave clothes hanging out on a doorknob or thrown on the bed. They try on various outfits, then leave the rejects hanging there.”
I stared at him. “You know far too much about women.”
“That’s my job,” he said, grinning.
“What sort of job might that be, mate?” Derek muttered under his breath. Gabriel just smirked.
“So now what?” Max said.
I told them what I’d learned from Crystal about Solomon being taught ammo loading and other survivalist skills from Bennie and Stefan in the Hollow.
Max leaned forward. “Maybe it was one of these kids, Bennie or Stefan, who took the shot at us.”
“But it couldn’t be them,” I argued, glancing from Derek to Gabriel. “How could they possibly have eluded you two?”
Gabriel shifted his shoulders philosophically. “It happens.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I said.
“Brooklyn’s right,” Derek said flatly, and looked at Gabriel. “You and I were out there together. There’s no way those two evaded us.” Then he gave Max some background on the survivalists in the Hollow and how, according to my dad, they all kept arsenals in their basements.
“All those people stocking up for World War Three?” Gabriel said. “Not sure we’ll get inside anyone’s house.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised to find out they’ve all got booby traps set up,” I said. “Bennie and Stefan sound like the type who would do that. Crystal called them immature, but they’ve also got intimate knowledge of munitions.”
“Immaturity and ammunition,” Gabriel said, shaking his head. “Bad combination.”
“Yes,” Derek said, nodding slowly. “Which is undoubtedly why Solomon decided to use them. For all we know, he might’ve sent them to kill Joe.”
“And flatten my tire with Max’s knife?” The memory of seeing that knife still irritated me. “I just don’t think they’re smart enough to pull that off.”
“It’s just sticking a knife in a tire,” Max said. “How smart do you have to be?”
“But their timing had to be perfect,” I explained. “They had to know I was coming. They had to know my car. They had to plan exactly when to kill Joe and escape out the back door, then vanish into thin air. I know I’m sounding paranoid and persnickety, but I just don’t believe those two could pull off that sort of precision maneuver.”
“I believe you’re right, darling,” Derek said, typing something into his smart phone. “Tomorrow I’ll contact the feds to see if they’ve any information on this local band of survivalists. I’m also interested in that church you mentioned.”
“The True Blood of Ogun?”
“Yes.” He frowned. “Seems I’ve heard of that group before.”
“You have.” I smiled. “Do you remember Mary Ellen Prescott, your new best friend at Abraham Karastovsky’s memorial service?”
He thought for a moment. “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”
I laughed and reminded him of how Mary Ellen had tried to convert him. It’s what happened when you let your guard down around Dharma.
He shook his head. “That’ll teach me to wander too far from you at those affairs.” He glanced around the table. “Now, where were we?”
“According to Crystal,” I said, “Angelica is still living with Solomon. But also according to Crystal, Angelica cheats on him. I’m wondering if she has her own place somewhere.”
“I’ll check it out,” Gabriel said.
“Good,” I said. “Maybe you’ll find the rifle she used.”
“If it was she who shot at us,” Derek added.
Max sat forward, his hands clutching the arms of his chair. “There has to be a way to find out where Emily’s gone. Can one of you go to her school? Or her parents’ house? I can track down their address.”
They all turned and looked at me. Well, why not?
“I’m on it,” I said.
Chapter 17
The next day, while Derek looked into the survivalists’ weapons arsenals and Gabriel went off to find out if Angelica had her own place somewhere, I drove north to Windy Bluff Elementary School on the outskirts of Santa Rosa.
I had no idea if Emily still worked there or what I was going to say to her if and when I found her. I mean, how did you just walk up to someone and announce, “Remember that guy you were engaged to, and he died? Well, not so much.” Yeah, this was going to be tough no matter how I looked at it.
Luckily for me, I arrived between classes, so the hall was packed and nobody thought to stop me. Walking past the rows of miniature lockers that lined the walls of the long, artificially lit corridor, I wove my way through gaggles of kids who were dressed much more fashionably than I had ever been able to manage.
Through the reinforced glass in the door of a classroom, I spied a room filled with desks for little people and a wall of alphabet-strewn blackboards-and shuddered.
I wasn’t one of those kids who loved school. I liked my friends and I liked spelling bees and I enjoyed a few of my teachers, but I wasn’t what you’d call a whiz kid. No, I didn’t turn into a super achiever until I reached high school and realized that if I excelled, I could actually go to a school that would allow me to obtain a degree in book arts. And then my bookbinding would be considered a real career. At that point, my desire to excel became insatiable.