Page 76 of Tanner

Savannah yawned against his shoulder.

“Where we going?” she asked again, sleepier now.

Tanner adjusted the bags in his grip and stepped off the porch. “Just for a bit,” he said then started walking.

At the end of the path he looked back once at the house with its curtains closed and the front step Mrs. Hemsworth had swept three days earlier because she said leaves made a place look neglected. He told himself they’d be back before anyone really noticed. He told himself he was doing the right thing. He told himself safe was still something he could find if he kept moving.

By the time he reached the corner with Savannah growing heavier against him and the bag handles biting into his fingers, he knew only one thing for certain.

He no longer had any idea of what safe was supposed to look like.

Chapter Twenty-One

Miles knew something was wrong before he reached the porch. He couldn’t have said exactly what gave it. Maybe the fact that the curtains were open but there was no movement inside. Maybe because he’d been coming here often enough now that the place had a feel to it, and what he felt now was wrong.

He cut the engine and sat for one second with both hands on the wheel.

He was earlier than he’d said he’d be. His shift had ended without anything happening last minute, and on the drive over he’d made the stupid mistake of thinking maybe that meant he and Tanner might get one easy evening. Takeout on the table. Savannah asleep before nine. Tanner in that easier mood he got into sometimes now after the house had been checked and rechecked and there was nothing left to do but sit down and relax.

He picked up the grocery bag from the passenger seat and got out. As he walked up the path he noticed there were no cartoon noise from inside. No little feet hitting the floor. No Savannah trying to peer through the glass before Tanner opened the door.

The porch creaked under his boots when he crossed it, then he knocked on the door. Nothing. He waited, listening and when there was still nothing he knocked again. Harder this time. “Tanner.” Still nothing.

When there was still no response he checked the knob, finding it locked.

That didn’t mean much. Tanner locked the door even when he was only in the back garden with Savannah. Miles stood there for another few seconds, listening for any sounds of movement.

Still nothing.

He put the grocery bag down and moved to the living room window, noticing the crayons were gone. Savannah always had something out by evening. Crayons or books or her stuffed rabbit. The small shoes she kicked off near the door when she got in from preschool weren’t on the mat either. That didn’t mean much. Tanner could have taken Savannah out to the park.

He went around the back to the kitchen window and looked in through the gap in the curtain seeing the empty sink. Countertop mostly clear. Light off. Chair pushed in.

Going back around the front, Miles stood on the porch and tried calling Tanner. When there was no answer, he left a voicemail. “Hey, I finished early and came over but you’re not here. Let me know when you’ll be back.”

The front door of the house opposite opened, and Mrs. Hemsworth stepped out. She crossed the road in her slippers and cardigan.

“You’ve got that look,” she said quietly.

Miles glanced at her. “What look?”

“The one that says whatever you’re thinking is worse than what you’re going to say out loud.”

He looked back at the window. “When did you last see them?”

“This afternoon. He picked her up, brought her home.” She folded her arms. “She was drawing in there.” She nodded toward the living room. “I saw her through the window.”

“Did you see them leave?”

“No.” Irritation flashed across her face. “I was on the phone with my sister and then I started making dinner. I looked out around six and thought the house seemed quiet, but quiet isn’t unusual with him.”

Miles took that in. “Did anyone come by?”

“Not that I saw.”

“Have you got a spare key?”

Mrs. Hemsworth’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”