splayed out. In bold letters across the bottom of the picture ran one word.
A strangled sound seeped from Kaycee’s throat. That dark yellow floor. It was the same one from her dream. And the spilled blood looked just the same.
How did they know her
On her desktop the dead man flashed away. The crimson-yellow sunset reappeared.
Kaycee’s heartbeat sounded in her ears.
A loud bang burst from the street. Kaycee yelped. She jerked to her right, peered through the den and out a front window.
A truck. Just an old truck. Backfiring. Kaycee pressed a hand to her racing heart. She was about to throw up.
Her mouth and chin burned. Leaving the spilled coffee, she jumped up and ran to the kitchen. She yanked open the freezer door and grabbed three ice cubes. With fumbling fingers she threw them into a plastic zip bag and pressed the coldness against her skin.
Kaycee leaned weakly against the counter. Her mind couldn’t process what had just happened. How could somebody do that to her computer? Why? Who
The phone rang.
Kaycee threw the ice bag in the sink and snatched up the receiver, not stopping to check the incoming ID. “Hello?”
“Kaycee, this is Chief Davis.”
The police chief — a kind and patient man in his mid-fifties, with little hair left and a lean, angular face. “Did you find Hannah?”
“No. We went through her house. No sign of forced entry. Her parents report no strange phone calls. And Hannah doesn’t have access to Internet that they don’t know about. Has she ever been on the Internet at your house?”
His words were clipped, but he sounded so calm. Kaycee knew that was part of his job, but how could he sound so
“No. She’s never been on my computer at all. Hannah doesn’t even talk about MySpace or anything like that.”
“Okay, good. I’m calling to give you a heads-up. In searching her room we found a note beneath her pillow. Her father says it’s Hannah’s handwriting.”
“What did it say?”
“Let me read it to you. I’ve got it bagged up here.”
Kaycee’s lips throbbed.
“ ‘I’ve run away. Don’t look for me. I’ll come back when I’m ready. Dad, why did you marry Gail? You act like you’ve forgotten Mom. And me. I asked Kaycee if I could live with her, but she said no. So I’m leaving.’ ”
“Kaycee?”
“I — yeah.” She could hardly breathe. What had happened to Hannah? She apparently hadn’t tried to come here after all. So where did she go? They should have found her by now. A beautiful little girl out alone after dark.
“Listen to me, Kaycee, this is not your fault.”
“Uh-huh.”
“It isn’t. Don’t go there. Believe me, Ryan Parksley is feeling enough guilt for the both of you. I’ve left an officer to stay with them and help them get through this.” Kaycee heard muted voices in the background. “But guilt won’t help Hannah right now. We need everyone involved to focus on any possibilities of where she might have gone.”
“I just can’t think of any place else. I talked to Ryan about her friends who spent the night here. He’d called them all.”
“We’re already starting to interview each of those girls. Maybe one of them knows something.”
“What else can you do?” Kaycee couldn’t imagine where to look first, if Hannah’s friends proved to be no help.
“I’ve called in everyone on our force — that’s eleven officers total. We’re giving this our full attention. I’ve got officers going door to door in Hannah’s neighborhood, and we’ll come through yours. Her room has been sealed. We’re putting her information out on NCIC — the National Crime Information Center. It will start being disseminated regionally, then on throughout the country.”
Kaycee’s nerves prickled. Her mouth wouldn’t stop stinging. This didn’t sound right. NCIC, checking the house for forced entry, sealing Hannah’s room . . . “But that sounds so . . . I mean, she ran away. She’s somewhere close.”
“Most likely so.” The chief’s voice remained even. Kaycee knew he was trying to console her. In the worst of circumstances, or talking to the craziest of people, the chief was known to employ what he called his “velvet touch.” No matter what was said — or had to be said — he remained calm and respectful. “But we always work on a worst-case scenario. We have to.”
Sealed. As in crime scene. Abduction. A shudder ran down Kaycee’s back. She couldn’t consider the possibility. She couldn’t.
Papers rustled. “Now while I’ve got you — I have a report on my desk about Officer Burnett being called to your house last night. I’ve only had time to glance at it. You thought someone had broken in. Something about a camera — ”
“It’s nothing.” Kaycee pictured the dead man on her computer, the dark yellow floor.
“You obviously didn’t think that last night.”
“Chief, really, forget it. It’s just like before — I got scared over nothing. Just find Hannah. I want to help look for her. What can I do?”
“Nothing right now. Ryan Parksley wants to be doing something too. The hardest thing is simply to wait. But if Hannah ran away as we expect, she could return anytime. I’ve asked Mr. Parksley to stay home in case she comes back. And it’s just as possible — perhaps even more — that Hannah will call
“I can’t help knock on doors? Do something?”
“The Parksleys’ neighbors are already calling to volunteer their help. This is Wilmore. You know how fast news travels.”
Yes, she did. Every person called would phone ten more.
“But they don’t know Hannah like I do.”
“I understand.” The chief’s tone remained gentle. “You are special to Hannah. That’s why we think she may try to contact you. At least for the next couple hours, the best thing you can do is stay there. If she calls, you need to persuade her to tell you where she is.”
Kaycee’s chin dropped. “Okay.” But it wasn’t. Hanging around her house didn’t feel productive at all.
“Thanks, Kaycee. I — yes?” The last word muffled, as if Chief Davis had turned from his receiver. “Be right there.” His voice cleared. “Kaycee, let me know the minute you hear or think of anything. And we’ll keep in touch with you.”
“Okay, Chief — thanks for telling me about the note.”
“No problem.”
The line clicked in her ear.
Mind whirling, Kaycee set the phone on the counter and picked up the ice bag from the sink, pressing it to her mouth and chin. She stumbled to the kitchen table, sank into a chair.
