Page 125 of Steel

My phone rang a short time later. “Josie. Did he come back?”

Violet was right there, standing only inches away.

“No,” my sister said with a trembling voice and I had to shake my head. “But I did find something. In the room where Damon was staying there were two boxes. They were filled with crazy stuff.”

“What do you mean crazy stuff?”

“Small propane bottles and rubbing alcohol. Mason jars and material like ripped tee shirts. Several batteries.”

“All used to start fires,” I hissed. “Don’t touch them. Let the chief of police know what you found.”

“I already called them.” Josie was calmer than I felt.

Violet was tense, barely moving.

“Where were the boxes?” I asked.

“In the closet and the door was partially cracked. They were wide open and Steel, one of them wasn’t full. There’s evidence he took some clothes with him.”

Grimacing, I kept my eyes on Violet. “Thank you for calling, sis. Let me know if you find anything else.”

“Of course.”

“What did she find? What?” Violet demanded.

“Where were those two boxes you found?”

“In the closet in the room Damon was staying. Why?”

“Supplies to start fires.” At least he hadn’t found them earlier.

She breathed out. “That’s really why they wanted inside the house. They didn’t know Jasper had rented it out again.”

“Yep. No doubt. There’s evidence Damon took some things with him. The boxes were wide open.”

I didn’t need to say what we were both thinking. Was it possible he was so upset he’d reverted back to starting fires? I wasn’t going to share the last with her.

“Let’s get going,” she pushed, turning away and returning to the hunt.

With a quick text to Bart, I trailed behind her. If Damon tried to start a fire with anything that Josie had mentioned, there was a good chance he could get himself killed.

We continued in the same path, going another few hundred yards before her exasperation settled in.

“Where is he?” she asked, her voice stronger than mine would be.

“Chin up. Look for anything. A single sign we’re going on the right direction. A torn shirt. A tennis shoe. Whatever.”

We continued moving, following a map I had on my phone. People reported in every fifteen or so minutes before expanding the grid. We’d walked for over an hour, already hearing signs of the river in the background.

“Damon. Come on, honey. Mommy misses you.”

We kept pushing. Kept going.

“Take a breath,” I told her, gently grabbing her shoulder.

“No,” she hissed, jerking away from me and swinging around to face where I stood. She slowly lowered the flashlight, taking gasping breaths. When she doubled over, I took her into myarms. She fought me at first, but I refused to let go, grimacing from how hard her body was trembling.

“Stop fighting me. I am so sorry I made you go out tonight. I am so sorry.”