“Yeah? What meaning is that?” Avery asked.
“I don’t know yet.” Grant pulled into the parking lot for the county courthouse and shifted into park. “Hopefully, we’ll learn what message he’s trying to send.”
Avery’s mouth set in a tight line. “Please let us learn that before we lose another victim.”
“Amen,” Grant said.
They were headed for the car when an old man ran across the busy street toward them, moving in an awkward gait, his eyes wide and glassy.
A car honked. Another driver slammed on his brakes.
“Oh, dear.” Avery darted out into traffic, capturing the old man’s arm as he spun in circles in an attempt to get his bearings.
When he stopped spinning, he stared into Avery’s face, his own crumpling, “Sarah, it’s you. It’s really you. Oh, thank God I found you.”
Before she could brace herself for impact, the man slammed into her, wrapping his arms tightly around her. “Sarah, my sweet Sarah. We thought you were dead. We prayed and prayed, but we thought we’d lost you.”
The old man sobbed against Avery’s shoulder. “Now, you’re here. After all these years, I never gave up hope. Now, you’re here.”
Grant tried to pry the old man free of Avery. Every time he moved a hand, the other took its place. “Let go of the woman.”
“No!” the man said. “You can’t take her away. She’s our lost little girl. Now, she’s found. You can’t take her away. Oh, Sarah. We’ve missed you so.”
Avery tried everything she could think of to dislodge the man from her person. Nothing worked.
“Sir, let go of the woman, or I’ll have to hurt you,” Grant said.
“I can’t let go,” the man said. “She might disappear again. Maggie would be devastated. She couldn’t go through that again. Devastated.”
“Sir,” Grant’s voice softened, “it’s okay. She’s not going to disappear. I promise.”
The old man was surprisingly strong, strong enough Avery couldn’t extricate herself from his embrace without having to hurt him. She had to get him to let go on his own. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “I’m not going anywhere. What’s your name?”
“You know me,” he said. “You have to. You’re my daughter.”
“Mr. Logsdon,” a voice called out.
Avery craned her neck in an attempt to see the person behind her.
“Mr. Logsdon, you know you’re not supposed to be wandering around town. You scare people.” A young man came into Avery’s peripheral vision.
“Miss, are you all right?” he asked.
“I am. I just can’t get this man to release me.”
“Mr. Logsdon, you need to let the nice lady go.”
“No. She’s my Sarah. She’s come home. Her mother will be so happy.”
“Mr. Logsdon, she isn’t Sarah,” the young man said. “Sarah’s gone. Your wife’s gone. You need to come with me to your house.” He gripped the man’s arm and tried to pry his hands from Avery.
“But I was on my way to work,” the old man said, his brows knitting. “I’m late. They expect me to be there.”
“You retired a long time ago,” the young man said. “The lumber yard shut down. It’s no longer operational.”
“And this is Sarah. My sweet Sarah.” His grip tightened on Avery’s arms. “She’s back.”
The young man worked at the older man’s fingers until he finally loosened them enough that Avery could free herself.
