Exposure

“Yeah. She’s not there. Any idea where else she might go?”

“How about the black barn next door?”

“Checked that too.”

Kaycee stared at the floor, replaying conversations she’d had with Hannah. Other than the friends the girl’s parents would know to call, she could think of no one. She shook her head. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Mark nodded. “Chief Davis is on it, and Deputy Chief Norrel. I’m supposed to be going off duty, but I’ll stay till we find her.”

“I’ll help you. What should I do first? Report to the police station? Drive around the streets and look?”

The last question chilled her. What did she expect to find, Hannah’s body lying beside the road?

“It’ll be all right, Kaycee. We’ll find her.” Mark’s brown eyes looked deep into hers, as if he saw her fear. “Best thing you can do is call Ryan Parksley and go over the names of those friends. See if he missed somebody.”

“Okay. I need to go home first. I have a list of her closest friends and their phone numbers.” A month ago they’d all had a slumber party at Kaycee’s house, and she’d talked to each parent beforehand.

“Good. You should get home as soon as you can. Hannah may turn up there yet. She could be hiding out somewhere, afraid of getting in trouble.”

The words spit fire at Kaycee. Hannah, waiting in desperation for her, while she’d run off to Tricia’s because of her own weakness. Why hadn’t she stayed put last night? She should have been strong, should have fought the fear.

Kaycee pulled in a breath. “Okay. You have my home phone number in your files. Plus I’ll give you my cell. I want to know the minute you learn anything. And I’ll keep in touch with the station.”

Tricia fetched paper and pen. Kaycee scratched out her cell number and thrust the paper into Mark’s hands. Briefly, he gripped her fingers. “We’ll find her, Kaycee.”

She nodded, throat tight, then swiveled toward the guestroom to dress.

THIRTEEN

Cold anger coiled in Nico’s gut as he drove away from Bear’s mansion. The ham and eggs sat like mud in his stomach. Good food couldn’t make up for the threats. Or comparing him to Slim. Nico had to fix one issue he’d “created,” Bear said, while Slim fixed the second. Two too many mistakes. Too much clean-up.

For three years as captain Nico had kept his soldiers in line, made sure his street rackets ran like well-oiled machines. Anybody tried to muscle in, he got taken care of. He’d never made a wrong move. Always proved his loyalty to the family. Had consistently been an earner. Now look at him. This job was the biggest single take the family’d ever seen. And he’d planned it from start to finish.

Some thanks he got.

“Anything goes wrong here, it’s on you.” Bear had leaned over his emptied plate, piercing Nico with a look that said more than the words.

Yeah, yeah.

Nico swerved into the driveway of his two-story house and turned off the engine. He slid out and slammed the door. A phone call to Giordano and a change of cars, and he’d be on his way.

Just as well Bear told him to do this himself, Nico thought as he stalked into his empty house. After the breakfast he’d had, his fingers were itching to pull a trigger.

FOURTEEN

Kaycee left Tricia’s house on trembling legs.

Hannah’s features hung foremost in her mind — the sad gray eyes, the sweet round face framed by light brown hair with bangs. Kaycee could almost see Hannah out there somewhere, begging for her to help.

As Kaycee traipsed down the sidewalk the weight of unseen eyes pressed upon her.

Looking in all directions, she slid into her PT Cruiser. Her fingers pressed like claws against the steering wheel.

Minutes later Kaycee pulled into her own driveway — and the full terror of last night flooded back. In her mind she saw the flash go off in her kitchen, saw the dead man’s photo in her hands. We see you. Her white wood house, once so inviting with its wrap-around porch and columns, now loomed like some bleached monster.

Kaycee’s gaze cruised the front and side yards. No Hannah.

The dimness inside her garage hung threatening and heavy as the automatic door closed. The one light in the ceiling wasn’t enough to dispel the shadows in her head. Clutching her overnight bag and purse, Kaycee stepped out of the garage and walked around to the back. No Hannah. Kaycee gazed across her backyard, the two oak trees, the small shed in the far corner.

Had the police looked there?

She tossed her belongings on the ground and cut across the lawn toward the shed. Kaycee never used the thing, couldn’t remember looking inside it since she moved in. As she reached the middle of her yard, an unspeakable thought rose in her mind. What if Hannah was in there — dead?

A small moan pushed from her. Kaycee raced across the grass and drew up at the shed, hands clasped against her neck. Seconds passed before she found the courage to open the door.

It squeaked on unused hinges. The smell of mold and dirt filtered out. Steeling herself, Kaycee looked inside.

Empty.

Relief overwhelmed her. She pulled back and let go of the handle. The door banged shut.

She walked around to the rear of the shed. No Hannah.

Back near the garage, Kaycee picked up her purse and overnight bag, chiding herself. How could she possibly think Hannah would come this far at night? Surely there were a dozen friends in her own neighborhood she could have run to.

But she never made it, did she?

Kaycee couldn’t allow herself to dwell on that thought. She needed to get in her house and call Ryan Parksley right away. And she didn’t need the distraction of worrying about some camera and a dead man.

With resolve she thrust her key into its lock. She pushed open the door, intending to barrel inside — and a new wave of fright washed over her. Kaycee stopped, peering inside her kitchen like some orphan come to beg. No camera on the table. Nothing out of place.

Heart scudding, she slipped into the house.

The door closed behind Kaycee with finality, as if she’d just entered a tomb.

She dropped her overnight case on the floor, her purse and keys on the counter. The room was too dark. Kaycee flung open the window blinds.

We see you.

The unknown “they” watched as she walked down the short hall off the kitchen. The feeling shivered her skin, but she pushed on. She needed to get to the list of Hannah’s friends in her desk drawer — the ones she’d called for the slumber party. She could imagine Ryan Parksley, beside himself, needing to hear from her.

Kaycee slowed at the doorway to her office and surveyed the room.

Everything looked normal.