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“The killer had to know we’d find him through the phone records. And he didn’t bother to take her phone. No, he wanted us to find her, to know who she was; it was like she was on display.”
“In the church.”
“In the bell tower,” he said, driving around a corner as the road flattened a little. “Her maiden name was Bell.”
“Oh, geez, now you’re really reachin’.”
“Am I?”
Voss said, “Slow down, I think you’re about at the turn.”
He squinted, searching for the lane in the soupy mix, then spied a mailbox. “Here we go.” He turned onto a gravel lane where two ruts wound into the fog, the space between the tire tracks filled with weeds and tufts of grass.
“Let’s just hope he’s home.”
* * *
Rachel nosed her Explorer into the garage. After cutting the engine, while still behind the wheel, she decided to read through her recent texts. She’d skimmed them, saw that they hadn’t been from Cade or the kids, so she’d ignored the rapid-fire messages that she’d received in the past few hours. Now, more carefully she read each short text.
The first was from Mercedes, of course: I heard about Annessa Bell and that Harper found the body. Call me.
“Nope,” Rachel said aloud and deleted the text.
The next was from Brit: OMG! Not Annessa too! I just can’t believe it. What the F is going on? Is Harper okay?
Lila, of course, had texted several times. The first: I’m still reeling. Do you know anything? Chuck and Lucas and I are horrified! Horrified!!!! Call me!
The second: Lucas wants to know if Harper’s okay. Have you seen Xander? He’s a mess!!! This is horrible. HORRIBLE!!!
And a third: Call me, would you? We need to know that you’re all doing okay. I can’t believe this. Emergency reunion meeting! FRIDAY, MY HOUSE. 7:30!!!
Really?
Even Reva had weighed in: Just heard about Annessa. Hard to believe. My God, what’s happening and really, who’s next? This is bizarre and unsettling. I hope your daughter isn’t too traumatized. OMG—of course she is. Sorry. Can’t believe Lila thinks we need a reunion meeting. The woman is relentless. (Sigh.) Guess I’ll see you there.
Deleting the remainder of the texts, Rachel felt a bit of satisfaction watching the stupid emojis disappear. Sometimes the too-cute graphics bothered her—well, make that all of the time. But now, in the wake of tragedy? They just seemed inane.
She climbed out of the SUV and actually saw rays of sunshine piercing the fog. Maybe the weather would actually improve.
Ever since leaving her father’s house, she’d been consumed in thought, turning the conversation with Ned over in her mind to the point that she’d nearly missed the turn to her own street.
What had it been that bothered her about the conversation? Yeah, her father had been kind, even insightful, had told her to let things go, but there had been something beneath the tenor of the conversation, something hidden by words, a sense that there was more to it.
Maybe it was because he’d asked about her mother. That was always a tense situation.
“Oh, crap.” She’d promised to call.
She found Melinda’s name on her contact list and hit the call button. Seconds later she was sent directly to her mother’s voice mail. “Hey, Mom,” she said as she opened the gate and let herself into the yard. “It’s me. Just checking in. Give a call back when you can.” She walked up the back steps, unlocked the house, and yelled, “I?
??m home!” into the hallway as Reno galloped up to greet her. She scratched her dog behind his head and yelled again, “I’m back!” into the house.
Locking the door and rearming the alarm, she waited for a response.
Nothing.
“Harper! Dylan?”
The house was still and she told herself not to worry. So what? They probably had earbuds in or were sleeping or caught up in some television show. With Reno beside her, she stepped down the hallway to Harper’s room and pushed open the door. Empty. A feeling of dread slithered through her and she told herself she was being silly. She opened Dylan’s door and he, too, was missing, an open bag of chips on his bed, the room the sty it always was. But empty. Silent. His game controller left on a pillow.
