I round a bend in the trail and come to a skidding halt, my shoes sliding in the snow.
“Selah?” Twig says. “Did you stop?”
I stare straight ahead, where a rift hovers in the cold.
49
THE FINAL PIECE
Islip out the front gate into Naomi’s Honda Civic as a squad car turns down the drive leading to the estate. When we arrive at Twig’s, another is parked outside.
As soon as I step into their living room, Mrs. Calloway wraps me in a hug so tight and trembling, a fireball ignites in my chest. We will get her daughter. We won’t let anything happen to Kate. Over Mrs. Calloway’s shoulder, Twig sits on the couch, his face ashen. Mr. Calloway sits beside him in his grease stained overalls, looking very much like a man in shock.
There are two officers present. One is Harper’s brother. He stands near the window with his hat inhis hands, his straw-colored hair ruffled. I didn’t notice last night, but he’s grown a strawberry blonde mustache, like maybe some facial hair will mitigate the youthful looking pimples still dotting his jawline.
“I went to the place she disappeared,” I blurt.
Mrs. Calloway lets go.
I made my decision on the drive over. I would tell the police exactly where I went. And yet, I immediately regret my word choice.
Disappeared.
I might as well have slapped Mrs. Calloway across the face.
“I mean, the place her phone last registered.” I glance from Twig to Jake to Jake’s partner. “I needed to check. To see if maybe she and Harrison were still there.”
The room is quiet.
A tinderbox ready to explode.
I wait for someone to inquire, “Well, were they?”
But that’s not what Jake’s partner asks.
“Okay,” he says, his voice carefully controlled. “What time was this?”
“Right after Twig called me.” I run my tongue across my front teeth, realizing only now that I haven’t brushed them yet. I glance at the clock onthe microwave in the kitchen. “Probably around 9:45.”
“How long did you stay?” the officer asks.
“Not long.”
“A few minutes? Ten? Long enough to look around or just have a glance?”
I blink, confused by his line of questioning. “Not more than a couple.”
“Did you touch anything?”
“No.”
“Where did you walk?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you stay on a trail? Did you go off trail?”
“I stayed on the trail.” I look at Mrs. Calloway and Mr. Calloway, both of them leaning forward like plants hungry for the sun. Like maybe I did find her. Kate was there and she’s fine. This has been a big mixup and she’s on her way home now.
