“Yeah.”
“Hard to believe someone took him. Not around here. But it’s looking like that, isn’t it? Wow.”
I didn’t say anything or make any guesses. I just listened to Tom handing out hope to the people in the diner. I wanted to be an optimist like him, but we were running out of optimists in Everywhere.
“Hey, have you talked to Trina lately?” I asked Breezy.
“Yeah, she was in for the fish fry on Friday with Karl and Anna.”
“Did she look okay to you?”
“As far as I could tell. Why?”
“Oh, it’s something Anna said. It made me wonder if anything was wrong.”
“Well, you’d know better than me.”
That was true. The others on the team hadn’t stayed close to Trina after high school the way I had. We’d all drifted apart. Three of the girls left town to go to college and never came back. Rose still resented being booted from the squad in favor of Violet Roka, and Violet had never been close to any of us. And then there was me and Breezy.
She was the wildest of the Striker girls. We were good friends, but we were as different as a head-banger and a country star. She was much taller than me, which helped in our school days because she could unleash a vicious spike from the attack zone. (My own specialty was a booming overhand serve.) She was skinny and always wore long-sleeved shirts, even on the hottest summer days. Breezy had dabbled with drugs since I’d known her, and I suspected she had track marks on her arms that she didn’t want anyone to see. Her hair was long, straight, and black, with shiny purple streaks, and when she was working she usually had it pulled back into a ponytail. She had a plain face, and her teenage acne had trailed her into adulthood.
She was the only one of our group who’d gotten married after high school, but she’d divorced a couple of years later when her husband skipped town for the North Dakota fracking fields after cleaning out their bank accounts. I knew he was bad news, because he’d been my boyfriend before he was hers. And yes, I warned her, but girls don’t always listen to other girls about that sort of thing. Since the divorce, she’d lived alone in a mobile home in Witch Tree, but the word among the local men was that Easy Breezy didn’t often sleep alone.
“The Gruders live over in your area, don’t they?” I asked her. “Near Witch Tree?”
Breezy rolled her eyes at the mention of their name. “Oh, yeah. They sure do.”
“They’re back in town. Did you know that?”
“I didn’t. It must be a recent thing, because they’ve been gone for a few weeks. They can get pretty loud over there, and the noise blows my way.”
“Do you see them a lot when they’re in town?”
Breezy gave me a strange look. “What’s that supposed to mean, Shel?”
“It’s just a question.”
“Well, they’re at the Witch’s Brew a lot, and so am I. No law against that, right?”
I knew this was one of those times when people saw the uniform and not me. Even close friends never forget that you’re a cop. Breezy had a history with drugs, and there I was asking about two of the region’s suspected drug dealers. That was bound to make her nervous.
I leaned close to her ear and whispered. “Off the record, Breezy. I just want to know who the Gruders hang out with.”
“Why?”
“Because Jeremiah disappeared right after they came back to town. Maybe that’s a coincidence, maybe not.”
She rejected the idea with a firm shake of her head. “You’re way off base, Shel. Vince and Will wouldn’t touch a kid. They may be dirt bags, but I don’t see them doing that.”
“They sell drugs. It’s a violent business.”
“Yeah, but you mess with a kid, and the whole town gets involved. You think they want that kind of attention? No way.”
“Have you ever seen them with Adrian Sloan?”
“Jeremiah’s brother? No. He’s too young to be in the bar. What is he, sixteen?”
“Yeah, but the Gruders sell their crap at the high school, right? Could Adrian be involved?”
Breezy glanced at the Nowhere’s long lunch counter, as if she needed an escape from our conversation. “I don’t know, Shel. You’re talking to the wrong person.”
“Would you tell me if you did?”
“Probably not. But in this case, I really don’t know. I haven’t heard Adrian’s name from Will or Vince, but that doesn’t mean anything. Okay? Now I have to go.”
Breezy refilled my mug of coffee and waded back into the crowd. Her tease-me smile returned to her face. She put a hand on the shoulder of every man she passed and gave it a squeeze. They looked back at her like she was strawberry shortcake swimming in whipped cream.
I was alone again. Adam wolfed down a burger at the counter. I hadn’t eaten anything myself, but I wasn’t hungry. I pushed through the diner door and brought my coffee out to the main street and climbed into the cruiser. I opened the window. The evening had cooled down fast, and the smoke of someone’s firepit was in the air. It was dusk and would be dark soon, and wherever Jeremiah was, I didn’t like to think of him spending the night away from his family.
Not long after, the door of the café opened, letting out a burble of noise. My father had broken free from the inquisition. He stood in the doorway, straight as an arrow, not letting on that anything was bothering him. He saw me in the cruiser and crooked a finger at me, and I scrambled out of the car to join him. The two of us headed across the street to the library. Dad used his key to let us inside, and we took the stairway down to the basement.
The lights were on. Monica Constant was still on the phones, calling seemingly everyone in town one by one. Her eyes looked up at us hopefully, but it only took a glance for her to realize there was no news. Dad beckoned me into his office, and I followed him. He sat behind his desk, laying both hands flat on the impeccably neat surface. Always keep a clean desk, he’d say. Your desk should be as perfectly organized as your mind. I think that staying organized was his way of keeping the wolf in his brain at bay. And we both knew the wolf was in there, stalking him. Dementia had claimed both of his parents.
I stayed standing. We were silent for at least two minutes, and finally I had to say something.
“Dad, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that Jeremiah would be home safely by now. You made the right call.”
My father nodded. I wasn’t telling him something he didn’t already know. “Unfortunately, Shelby, it’s looking more and more like we’re dealing with the one percent this time.”
“So what do we do next?”
He inhaled long and slow. “I’m heading back to the forest. We’re still searching the area where the bicycle was found. These people will search all night if they have to. I’m proud of them. A terrible thing like this brings out the best in everyone.”
I thought that was a generous sentiment, but also a little naive. People who are scared and upset usually take it out on someone, and that someone was likely to be my father. If we didn’t find Jeremiah, he’d be the one they blamed.
“What do you want me and Adam to do?” I asked.
Dad reached into his in-box and drew out a single sheet of paper. He put on reading glasses and examined it as he tapped a finger on his desk. “Mrs. Norris called earlier to complain that she had a Peeping Tom outside her window last night. She thought it was someone staying at Rose’s motel. Normally I’d be laughing about another complaint from Mrs. N, but I’m not laughing anymore. The motel is just down the highway from where the Sloans live. You better go check it out, Shelby.”
Chapter Nine
I stood on the county highway at the base of the steep driveway leading to the Rest in Peace Motel. From where I was, I could see the timber frame of Ellen and Dennis Sloan’s house not far down the road. The sky was almost dark, and lights burned in every window. Cars and trucks were parked up and down the shoulder, and I knew friends were providing support to the family. I was happy that the Sloans weren’t dealing with this alone.