treat for being such a good boy.” She waited until Mattie hurried to the play area.
“What going on?” Tom whispered. “Is Susan okay?”
“She swung by a little while ago and said she had to run an errand,” Rosie explained in a hushed tone. “She was only supposed to be a few minutes. Well, after an hour, I started to panic, and I called the police. But it turns out everything’s all right. See, her fiance’s been missing since noon—”
“I know,” Tom nodded. “She came by my place this afternoon, looking for him. We had lemonade.”
“Lemonade, huh?” Rosie gave him a knowing smile. “Well, honey, from the smitten look on your face, I hate to tell you this, but that pretty lady found her man. They’re staying at the old Syms house on Birch. She’s there right now with him. I’m expecting him or Deputy Shaffer to come pick up Mattie. One of them is supposed to be here any minute. I think Mattie’s hoping for the deputy. He wants to ride in the police car.”
Tom frowned at her.
“Is anything wrong?” she asked.
He sighed. “Well, for starters, I just came from the house on Birch, and nobody’s home.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I was worried about her. I was there nearly two hours ago. She told me she was checking into one of the hotels in town tonight. But I just tried both hotels, and she’s not registered at either of them. So I swung by the house on Birch again, and nobody’s home.” His eyes narrowed at her. “Who told you she was there?”
“Nancy at the police station told me,” Rosie said, shrugging. “At least, that’s the skinny she got from Corey Shaffer.”
Tom wandered toward the counter and leaned against it. “Let me ask you something. Does Susan strike you as the kind of mother who would unload her child on you way longer than she said she would—and then not come by to apologize or explain? Instead, she sits on her ass in her rental house and sends a cop to come pick him up?”
Rosie slowly shook her head. “No, sir, she doesn’t strike me as that kind of mom at all. And you say the house is empty?”
Tom nodded.
“Well, why the heck would the deputy sell me that bill of goods?”
“I’m not sure,” Tom muttered. “I know he represents the law around here, but I’ve always had a bad feeling about Corey—ever since when he was a kid and my mother told me he killed a cat in his backyard with a lawnmower.”
“I’ve heard that story, too,” Rosie said grimly.
“I don’t trust the guy. Where’s Sheriff Fischer tonight?”
“With his Missuz on Whidbey Island,” she answered.
“Something screwy is going on here,” Tom said, rubbing his chin. “Maybe this is jumping the gun, but do you mind if I use your phone to call the county sheriff in Anacortes?”
Rosie stared at him for a moment, and then she nodded. “Honey, I’ll even dial the number for you.”
“Oh, God, no,” Susan groaned.
The headlights of her Toyota illuminated two big cement barriers at the end of the abandoned plant’s driveway. They totally blocked any motor vehicle access to the road.
For the last five minutes, Moira had been describing what had happened to her—from getting lost in the woods to falling into a pit to being locked in a janitor’s closet. She’d mentioned twice that her friends were probably worried about her. Susan didn’t have the heart to tell her that both her friends were probably dead. She didn’t need the poor girl to get hysterical on her, not now.
“What is this?” Moira said. Staring at the barricades, she clutched Susan’s sweater around her. The dashboard light exposed her panicked look. “What is this?” she repeated.
“I’m afraid this is us having to turn around,” Susan muttered.
As she pulled a U-turn, Susan dreaded the notion of heading back toward the deserted plant. They’d just narrowly escaped from there. Allen was probably sprinting up this same neglected, old driveway. Any minute now, she expected to catch him in her headlights.
“Listen, Moira, there’s a gap in the fence on your side,” she explained. The car’s rattling became louder as she picked up speed. “It’s the way we came in here. If I was smart I would have gone out that way, too. It should be coming up soon. Keep your eyes peeled.”
Moira nervously peered out her window. Meanwhile, Susan watched out for potholes, rocks, and the little shrubs that had grown through holes and cracks in the road. She kept a lookout for Allen, too.
“I see it!” Moira announced, pointing to an opening in the chain-link fence on their right.
Slowing the car down to a crawl, Susan veered off the driveway and headed toward the gap in the fence. The ride over the rugged trail jostled them. As they hit a big bump at the fence line, the car suddenly buckled and tilted to one side.
“Oh, God, no,” Susan said for the second time in five minutes. She tried to accelerate, but the Toyota didn’t move. Past the constant rattle, Susan heard one of the tires spinning.
“Christ, this is a goddamn nightmare,” Moira muttered.
“Can you work the accelerator pedal with your sore foot?” Susan asked her.
Moira nodded. “I can try.”
“I’ll get out and push.” Susan stepped out of the car. Its headlights illuminated the trail winding through the darkened forest. Staring toward the back of the car, Susan glanced at the driveway on the other side of the fence —bathed in the red glow of her taillights. There was no sign of Allen.
Biting her lip, she studied the rear tire on the driver’s side. It was stuck in a small, mud-filled crater. “Okay, give me a minute. I think we can get out of here,” she announced.
Moira was hobbling around the front of the car. She ducked behind the wheel.
Susan quickly gathered up some fallen branches and wedged them in front of the tire. As she moved to the back of the car, she noticed some blood smeared by the trunk lock. Then she could see the trunk was open—just an inch.
All at once, the lid sprung up.
Recoiling, Susan let out a shriek. Allen scrambled out of the trunk and charged toward her. The car lurched forward. He looked like a madman. The side of his face was covered with blood. It ran down his neck and stained the shoulder of his tight white T-shirt. He drew back his fist and punched her in the face.
Susan flew back and slammed into a tree. Dazed, she crumpled to the ground.
She heard Moira screaming. She blinked and helplessly watched as Allen swiveled around and dragged the girl out of the driver’s seat. The car rolled forward again. He noticed the ax in the backseat and grabbed it. Moira was crying and shrieking in pain at every step he forced her to take on her swollen ankle. With one hand, Allen grabbed her by her short, pixie-style hair. His other hand held the ax blade to Moira’s throat.
Susan managed to get to her feet, but she clung to the tree to keep from falling again. The whole side of her face was throbbing. A high-pitched ringing assaulted her left ear. She numbly gazed at Allen.
Tears were streaming down Moira’s face. “Oh, God, please,” she cried. “No, don’t….”
“Shut up!” he growled. Still holding her by the hair, he gave Moira’s head a shake.
Moira took one last gasp, then stood there, wincing and trembling.
Allen glowered at Susan. “Get in the car,” he hissed. “You’re driving us to the cabin on Cedar Crest Way. The two of us will sit in back.” He pressed the ax handle to Moira’s throat and cracked a tiny smile. “Oh, and, Susan, mind the bumps.”
As the deputy dragged him into the cabin’s front hallway, Leo noticed the stairway’s broken banister. Amid the splintered and broken pieces of wood, he saw a trail of blood on the beige carpet. The crimson path started at the bottom of the stairs and led into the kitchen.
Leo realized Jordan must have been shot on the stairs and that his body was moved into the kitchen or the basement. His heart sunk, and tears welled in his eyes. He tried to struggle as the deputy hauled him farther into the cabin, but he was still too dazed and weak.
“What the hell?” the deputy murmured. He dropped Leo in a heap on the hallway floor and then followed the blood trail toward the kitchen. “Shit, I should have put a bullet in his brain. Little bastard, where the fuck are you?”
Leo felt a surge of hope. Maybe his friend had been wounded and somehow escaped.
