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Because we need to find his car.
Based on the number of vehicles in the Black family’s motor court, it’s not unreasonable to think that Hollowell has more than one. And it seems unlikely that he’d drive the same car he murdered Iris with to work every day. But we have to start somewhere, and this is easier than our next steps will be.
We find a small lot around the back of the building with designated parking for the courthouse staff, and my heart drops a little when Chase points to the little placard that reads Judge Hollowell.
The car parked in front of it is a light metallic beige.
It’s the right size and shape, but the wrong color.
“It was shadowy on the road. There were hardly any streetlamps on that stretch.” Chase lifts his eyebrows, although even he looks unconvinced by his words. “Maybe the car just looked dark because everything around it was dark.”
“No.” I shake my head, my heart in my throat. “It was dark. Black or blue or gray. I don’t know which, but not this.”
It’d be a waste of time to try to convince ourselves this could be the one when it clearly isn’t. Which means we have to keep looking.
The second, harder part of our search is a lot more risky. If Judge Hollowell were to see me at the courthouse, he probably wouldn’t think too much of it. But if he sees me hanging around outside his house, I’ll be lucky if the worst thing he does is call the cops.
We all pile back into Lincoln’s car, and I give him Hollowell’s address. He starts to drive, but about halfway there, he veers off course.
“Hey.” I look up from the GPS on his phone, which rests in my lap. “You turned the wrong way.”
“No, I didn’t.” He keeps his eyes on the road, and I notice the interior of the car has gone very quiet. “You’re not coming with us.”
“What? Yes, I am! I—”
“No, Harlow.” Now he does look at me, his amber eyes blazing intently. “Camping out outside Hollowell’s house is stupid enough as it is. But if we get caught, I’m not having you with us. We’re teenage boys; we can say it was some senior prank or something. But you’re not coming with us. I’m dropping you back off at school.”
“I—”
“This isn’t up for negotiation. Either we go alone, or no one goes at all.”
Fuck. My stomach clenches into a knot so hard and fast I feel like I ate a lump of cement.
I get why they don’t want me there. I do. But it wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was the one who was supposed to be gambling with my safety as we pushed harder for answers, not them.
But we need to know. Maybe the car that killed Iris is sitting in Hollowell’s garage right now.
I turn to face the back seat, staring at each of the guys with a hard expression. “Fine. But be fucking careful. And keep texting me. If I don’t hear from you every twenty minutes, I’m coming to get you.”
“Deal.” Dax nods, looking somber.
When Linc pulls up outside of Linwood, the school looks quiet. During the early fall months, kids hung out on the front steps during their free periods, but it’s too fucking cold to do that now. Everyone’s inside the building.
I turn back to the dark-haired boy in the driver’s seat. “Be safe. Please.”
“Always.”
He leans over and kisses me, and when I get out and watch the car drive away in the gray January light, it feels like it takes four pieces of my heart with it.
They do what I asked, and the first text comes through as I’m in gym. I stuck my phone in my sports bra, and I tug it out when I feel it vibrate, slowing to a fast walk as I circle around the indoor track. Savannah clips my shoulder and glares at me as she brushes past, but I ignore her and swipe the screen of my phone.
RIVER: Just got here. Ditched the car and found a place where we can see.
I know he’s carefully avoiding using Hollowell’s name or giving too many details, just in case. I wish he could say more about how it’s going, but at least I know they’re still alive.
Another update comes just under twenty minutes later, from Chase this time.
CHASE: Nothing yet.
