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I reached for Mary’s backpack and dumped all the items onto the concrete, searching her belongings—her pencil case, her folder of assignments, her notebook, her lunch bag stuffed inside. I picked up every piece on the ground, as though something would give me a clue as to where she’d gone but I came up with nothing.
When my phone rang, my heart leaped in my chest. I checked the screen and answered immediately. “Charles?”
His voice was frantic and out of breath. “I’m running toward the school right now. I’m a good eight blocks away.”
“Running?” I said, my mind muddled and not computing. “What happened?”
“Brad got into an accident, a fender bender. Either way … Becky, I have to tell you something. The PI came back with some information.”
My hands stilled on the notebook that I had been about to stuff back into the bag.
“Paul is dead.”
Dead.
The word just sat there in my mind.
Dead.
Then, it started chugging like a train, loud and clear and deafening …
Dead, dead, dead …
Fear knotted my insides.
“What do you mean?” I swallowed the bile that had crept up my throat.
Charles’s breath was coming out in chugs as he relayed grimly, “He died two years ago from an apparent suicide.”
I wasn’t sad, of course. But I wasn’t relieved either. I was numb. In shock. And confused. So confused.
But …
“I don’t understand …” My voice trailed off as other negative thoughts filtered through my head.
If Paul hadn’t taken Mary, then who had? At least with Paul, we could put a face to a name; we could track him down.
“Just stay there,” Charles ordered. “Don’t move. I’ll be there soon.” And then he hung up.
I frantically searching the front pockets of Mary’s backpack when my fingers found a yellow Post-it Note. My whole body prickled when I read the words.
My eyes focused on Kenzo talking to a police officer who had approached, and then my attention fixed on the paper within my fingertips.
I have exactly what you are looking for.
The number on the Post-it pulsed on the paper, causing my adrenaline to spike. I jumped to a standing position, thinking of my next actions.
If I handed this newfound information to the authorities, they’d take me out of the picture. But I had this inner need to find her myself. To get to Mary.
I waved at Kenzo, getting his attention. “I’m going to the washroom, but I’ll be right back. Can you keep an eye on Sarah?”
After he nodded, I kissed the top of her forehead. “Stay right here. I’ll be back.”With your sister. I promise.
When I was a good distance away, I dialed the number on the Post-it Note.
“Hello?” I said, my voice small and desperate.
“Hello, Becky.” Her tone was low and gravelly, a direct consequence of excessive smoking. I could almost smell the stench of cigarettes wafting from her mouth. “Long time no talk, honey.”
