AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Kayleigh Patchett has a calculator vault app. You know, the ones that look like a calculator but actually hide photos?”
“Yeah. See them all the time. You need a password to get into it. I doubt her parents know it,” Noah said.
Josie opened the app, which looked and operated just like a calculator. She knew it was a vault app because she’d seen it on the phones of people they had arrested or investigated before. There were a number of them out there. She knew that this one in particular usually had a four-digit password and that you had to press the percentage sign and then the equal sign in order for the app to register that you were signing in to your hidden vault of photos. “Her best friend might know the password,” said Josie. “If we can get her to tell us. I’m just going to try the old standbys.”
She started punching numbers into the app, followed by the percentage and equal signs.
Noah laughed. “You mean the ones teenagers use thinking they’re so clever that no one would ever figure it out? Like four zeroes?”
“That didn’t work,” Josie said. “But yeah.”
Teenagers were sneaky and they often thought that they knew more than everyone else, but most of the time, they just weren’t very savvy—or they thought that adults made things so complicated that they would never try the simplest solution. It was like using the word “password” for your password. Josie looked up from the phone screen, studying Noah briefly. She tried to imagine them in fourteen or fifteen years with a teenager of their own. Before her brain could invent all the possibilities that went along with that thought, she returned her focus to Kayleigh’s calculator app. Next she tapped in the numbers one, two, three, four, followed by the percentage and equal signs. There was a brief flicker and then a folder opened with several photos in it.
“Got it!” Josie exclaimed.
“It was one, two, three, four, wasn’t it?” said Noah.
“Of course it was.”
There were only about a half-dozen photos in the vault, but they were all of Kayleigh and a boy. As Josie swiped through them, she realized that none of the photos showed his entire face clearly straight-on. Three showed him in profile. One showed him from the back, walking down a Denton city street in jeans and a hoodie pulled up over his head. One showed him driving a car, only trees out his window, his face turned away so that only his ear and the back of his head were visible. One photo showed a pair of hands clasped together, fingers intertwined. The angle was strange. Swiping through them once more, Josie wondered if he had even known that Kayleigh was taking the photos. They had an almost covert quality about them, as though he had been unaware they were being taken. Josie tried to zero in on any identifying features like a tattoo or a scar. Anything she could use to identify him in person, but there was nothing. All she could tell was that he was thin with shaggy brown hair; he was old enough to drive a car; and he liked hoodies.
“What’s in the vault?” asked Noah.
“A secret boyfriend, by the looks of it. How far did you get with Henry Thomas’s associates?”
He leaned back in his chair and stretched his hands over his head. “I have a solid list here. I just have to go rattle their cages.”
Josie checked the clock. “It’s almost dawn. Why don’t you get something to eat and then start running them down? I want to talk to the Patchetts before the line search begins.”
FIFTEEN
The road to the Patchett home was lined with cars for miles. Two vans from the local news station, WYEP, sat at the mouth of the driveway. A young reporter was giving a live update as Josie pulled in. Halfway to the house, she was stopped by a uniformed officer who was tasked with taking the name and checking the ID of every person who came onto the property. The line search would begin in the Patchetts’ yard where Savannah and Kayleigh had entered the woods. Denton PD would keep a list of the volunteers from the community. It wasn’t unheard of for a child abductor or a killer to return to the scene and blend in with the crowd of onlookers, watching police work, or for them to offer help.
Josie drove up to the house and found a parking spot behind a group of vehicles. The sky had grown lighter, the horizon a flaming orange with pink undertones. People milled around everywhere, waiting for the line search to begin. Amber and the Chief stood near the side of the house, directing people into the backyard. Josie waved an acknowledgment and made her way inside the house.
The living room was spacious and decorated in white and blue. A white sectional took up most of the room. On one corner of it, Dave Patchett slept on his back, head turned to the side. His mouth was open, a line of drool hanging from the corner of his lips. Savannah lay alongside him, her head resting on his chest. Sweaty strands of hair were plastered to her flushed cheek. Josie felt a wave of relief seeing Savannah safe and secure in her father’s arms, followed by the prickle of worry that her sister might not make it home. The thought that Kayleigh might already be dead kept floating to the surface of her mind, unwanted, taunting her.
Shelly waved Josie over to the unoccupied section of the sofa, motioning for her to sit. Josie remained standing and watched as Shelly gently nudged Dave awake. When he saw Josie, he extricated himself from Savannah. She didn’t stir, not even when he tucked a blanket around her. Swiping a hand down his face, he lumbered to the other side of the sectional and settled in beside Shelly. They clutched at one another and looked up at Josie with trepidation on their faces. It broke Josie’s heart.
“Do you have news?” Dave asked, blinking.
“I’m afraid not,” said Josie. “We have not located Kayleigh yet.”
“Your friend,” Dave said. “The other lady—”
“Detective Palmer,” Josie said.
“Right,” said Dave. “She told us about the dog. That guy in the cabin. You didn’t find anything?”
“She showed us his photo,” said Shelly. “We’ve never seen him before.”
“I’m aware,” said Josie. “We’re still looking into him.”
Dave said, “You think this guy is the Woodsman?”
Suppressing a sigh, Josie said, “Mr. Patchett, the Woodsman is not a factor in our investigation.”
“But the kids won’t stop talking about him,” said Shelly. “Savannah’s been having nightmares. Obviously, we thought it was just a story. Until yesterday.”
