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"Then tighten it."
She slipped back into her seat. "God, you're as bad as Paige."
"As I was saying," Cortez said. "Our primary objective is to--Oh."
With that one word, my breath caught. A simple word, not even a word really, a mere sound, an exclamation of surprise. But for Cortez to be surprised, worse yet, for him to stop in the middle of explaining one of his grand plans to make such an exclamation--well, it boded no good.
I'd just rounded the corner onto my street. A quarter mile ahead was my house. Or so I assumed. I couldn't be sure because both sides of the street were lined with cars, trucks, and vans, crammed into every available space, some even double-parked. As for my house, I couldn't see it, not because of the cars, but because of the crowd of people spilling over the lawn, onto the sidewalk and across the road.
"Pull in the next driveway," Cortez said.
"I can't park here," I said, taking my foot off the accelerator. "I'm sure my neighbors are pissed off enough already."
"You're not parking. You're turning around."
"You want me to run?"
"For now, yes."
I gripped the steering wheel. "I can't do that."
I kept my face forward, but I could sense his gaze on me.
"Getting into your house won't be easy, Paige," he said, his voice softer. "This type of situation ... it doesn't bring out the best in people. No one would blame you for turning around."
I looked through the rearview mirror at Savannah.
"Paige is right," she said. "If we back down now, Leah will know we're spooked."
"All right, then," Cortez said. "Pull in wherever you see an opening."
As I scouted for a parking space, nobody spoke. My eyes traveled from group to group. To the national news crews sipping coffee from the Belham Starbucks. To the scattered clusters of people with camcorders and curious eyes. To the state police arguing with five bald people in white robes. To the men, women, and children pacing the sidewalk, carrying signs condemning my soul to damnation.
Strangers. All strangers. I scanned the crowd and saw not a local newsperson, not a village cop, not a single familiar face. Up and down the street every door was closed, every curtain drawn. Everyone willing to shut out the June sun and cool breezes if it meant they could also shut out whatever was happening at 32 Walnut Lane. Shut it out and wait for it to go away. Wait for us to go away.
"When Paige stops the car, get out immediately," Cortez said. "Undo your seat belt now and be ready. Once you're out, keep moving, don't even pause to look around. P
aige, take Savannah's hand and head to the front of the car. I'll meet you there and clear a path."
When we'd turned the corner, a few people had looked over, not as many as you might expect, considering they were waiting for a stranger to arrive, but maybe they'd been there so long, seen so many strangers drive by, that they'd stopped jumping every time a new car appeared.
When the car slowed, more glanced our way. I saw their faces then. Bored, impatient, almost angry, as if ready to snap at the next rubbernecker who falsely aroused their expectations. Then they saw me. A shout. Another. A ripple of movement, escalating to a stream, then a wave.
I turned the wheel to wedge in sideways behind a news van. For a second, I saw nothing but the call letters of a TV station in Providence. Then a rush of people swallowed the van. Strangers jostled against the car, rocking it.
A man, knocked flying by the mob, sprawled across the hood. The car bounced. The man scrambled up. I met his eyes, saw the hunger there, the excitement, and for one second, I froze.
As the flood of people engulfed the car, I saw the very real possibility that I'd be trapped. I grabbed the handle and flung the door open, putting all my strength behind it and not caring who I hit. I leaped from the car, wheeled, and grabbed Savannah as she got out.
"Ms. Winterbourne, do you--"
"--have you--"
"--allegations--"
"Paige, what do you--"
The cacophony of questions hit me like a fifty-mile-an-hour wind, almost knocking me back into the car. I heard voices, words, shouts, all blending into one screaming voice.
