hadn’t changed or combed her hair. He was suddenly too tired to remind her. She continued to stare at him, and he remembered that she still wasn’t talking to him. Well, fine. He wasn’t talking to her either. He laid his head back again.
“Was that your new partner?”
He glanced at her without moving from his comfortable position, trying to keep the surprise of her sudden armistice to himself in case she had temporarily forgotten.
“Yeah, O’Dell’s my new partner.”
“She sounded really pissed at you.”
“Yeah, I think she is. I guess I really have a way with women, don’t I?”
Surprisingly, Emma smiled. He smiled back and then she laughed. In two steps she came to him and crawled into his lap the way she used to do when she was a little girl. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him before she could change her mind. She tucked her head under his chin and settled in.
“Do you like her?”
“Who?” Tully forgot what they were talking about. It felt so good to hold his little girl again.
“O’Dell, your new partner.”
“Yeah, I guess I like her. She’s a smart, tough lady.”
“She’s really pretty.”
He hesitated, wondering if Emma was concerned he would run off with one of his co-workers just as her mother had done.
“Maggie O’Dell and I are only partners at work, Emma. There isn’t anything else going on between us.”
She sat quietly, and he wished she’d talk to him about any fears she might have.
“She did seem really pissed at you,” she finally said with a bit of a giggle.
“She’ll get over it. I’m more concerned about you.”
“Me?” She twisted around to look at him.
“Yeah. You seemed really pissed at me, too.”
“Oh, that,” she said, settling in against him again. “I’m over that.”
“Really?”
“I was thinking if we don’t spend all that money it’d cost me to go to the prom, I thought maybe I could get a really cool CD Walkman, instead?”
“Oh, really?” Tully smiled. Yes, he was quite certain he’d never understand women.
“Don’t have a cow. I have enough of my own money saved.” She wiggled out of his arms and out of his lap. Now she stood in front of him, arms crossed, waiting for his response and looking more like the teenager he remembered. “Can we go pick one out today?”
Was this any way to raise a teenage daughter, teaching her that she would receive some material thing for good behavior? Instead of analyzing it, he simply said, “Sure. Let’s go this afternoon.”
“All right!”
He watched her practically skip back to her room while he got up and wandered over to the coffee table. He found the file folder and slid it out from under one of the piles. He flipped it open and started going through the file: a police report, a copy from a DNA lab, a plastic bag with a pinch of metallic-flecked dirt stapled to an evidence document, a medical release form from Riley’s Veterinary Clinic.
Last night Detective Manx had given him the file marked Rachel Endicott, the missing neighbor O’Dell suspected Stucky had taken. Now, from the looks of the evidence and a recent DNA lab report, even the arrogant, stubborn Manx had been able to figure out that Ms. Endicott may have indeed been kidnapped. After seeing how close to the edge O’Dell was this morning, Tully wondered whether or not he should show her the file. Because according to the lab’s DNA test, Albert Stucky had not only been in Rachel Endicott’s house, but he’d helped himself to a sandwich and several candy bars. And now there was no doubt in Tully’s mind that Stucky had also helped himself to Ms. Endicott.
CHAPTER 62
Maggie drove without a destination, hoping only to burn off the mounting anger. After an hour, she pulled into the busy parking lot of a pancake house, thinking some food might settle her nerves and her stomach. She was at the door of the restaurant, her hand on the door handle when she spun around, almost bumping into two customers before hurrying back to the car. She didn’t dare have breakfast. How could she possibly risk another waitress’s life?
Back on the road, Maggie’s eyes darted all around her, checking the rearview mirror and every car alongside her. She pulled off the interstate, drove several miles down a deserted two-lane highway, then returned to the interstate. Several miles later, she exited at a rest stop, circled around, parked, waited, then headed back onto the interstate.
“Come on, Stucky,” she said to the rearview mirror. “Where the hell are you? Are you out there? Are you following me?”
She used her cellular phone and tried to call Nick, but he must have already left for Boston. Desperate for a distraction, any distraction, she dialed her mother’s phone number. Maybe she could drive down to Richmond. That would certainly take her mind off Stucky. Her mother’s answering machine picked up on the fourth ring.
“I can’t come to the phone right now,” a cheerful voice answered, and Maggie immediately thought she had dialed the wrong number. “Please call back another time, and remember, God watches out for those who can’t watch out for themselves.”
Maggie snapped the phone shut. Oh God, she thought, wishing the voice had not been her mother’s, and that she indeed had the wrong number. However, she recognized the raspy, cigarette-smoking tone despite the false cheerfulness. Then she remembered what Greg had said about her mother being out of town. Of course, she was with Reverend Everett—whoever the hell he was. They were in Las Vegas. Where else would manic-depressed alcoholics go to find God?
She noticed the gas tank getting low so she pulled off the interstate and found an Amoco station. She had the gas cap off when she realized the pumps were not set up for credit cards and a pay-at-the-pumps. She glanced over at the station’s shop. As soon as Maggie saw the female clerk’s blond curls, she replaced the gas cap and got back into the car.
It took two more attempts and about twenty more miles before she found a pay-at-the-pumps station. By now her nerves were rubbed raw. Her head hurt and the nausea had left her feeling hollow and sick to her stomach. There was nowhere she could go. Running away would not solve anything. Nor could she coax Stucky into coming after her. Unless he was already waiting for her. She decided to take her chances and return home.
CHAPTER 63
Tess ran, her ankle throbbing. Her feet ached and were now bleeding despite her attempt to wrap them with what once were the sleeves of her blouse. She had no idea where she was headed. The sky had clouded up again, bulging gray and ready to burst. Twice she had come to a ledge that overlooked water. If only she had learned to swim, she wouldn’t have cared how far away the other side appeared to be. Why couldn’t she escape this eternal prison of trees and vines and steep ridges?
She had spent the morning eating wild strawberries or, at least, that’s what she thought they were. Then she drank from the muddy bank of the river, not caring what algae also slipped into her cupped hands. Her reflection had frightened her at first. The tangled hair, the shredded clothes, the scratches and cuts made her look like a madwoman. But wasn’t that exactly what she had been reduced to? In fact, she couldn’t think of Rachel without feeling something raw and primitive ripping at her insides.
She couldn’t be sure how much time had gone by while she cringed in a corner of the hole. She had cried and rocked, hugging herself with her forehead pressed against the wall of dirt. At times she had felt herself slipping into
