“I’ll check it out,” Ellie said. “Clues are damn few and far between. I’ll send Earl up to the reservation. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“It’s about time for some luck,” Julia agreed, picking her purse up off the sofa. “Where could I find a bunch of them for sale?”
“Swain’s General Store,” Peanut answered. “They have a local souvenir aisle.”
“Great. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Better wear a mask,” Peanut muttered. She and Ellie exchanged worried glances.
Julia frowned. “What’s going on?”
“You remember Mort Elzik?” Ellie asked.
So it was small-town gossip. She should have known. “No.” Julia glanced at her watch. She wanted to be back—with the dreamcatchers—when Alice woke from her nap. “I really don’t have time for this now. I don’t know how long Alice will sleep.” She headed for the door.
“He published a photo of Alice in the Rain Valley Gazette.”
“The headline called her ‘wolf girl,’ ” Peanut said, chewing loudly.
Julia stopped. All at once she remembered Mort from high school … and from that night at the hospital. He’d bumped into her in the hallway. Of course. The bag he’d dropped held camera equipment. That was why he hadn’t been at the meeting in the church; he’d used that time to sneak into the hospital. Slowly, she turned. “Any mention of me?”
Both women shook their heads. “The town is protecting you,” Ellie added. “He knows you’re here but no one will confirm that you’re helping Alice.”
“I knew there’d be a leak. There always is. We’re fine if—”
Peanut and Ellie exchanged another worried look.
“What? There’s more?” Julia demanded.
“Some of the reporters are leaving town. They think the whole thing is a hoax.”
Julia cursed under her breath. That was the one thing they couldn’t afford. If the media withdrew now, they might never find out who Alice really was. “The new photos—mine, I mean—should help. Also release some bit of information. Something scientific. Put someone in uniform on camera to talk about the search. Use lots of missing kids’ statistics. Make every word sound official. That should buy us some time.”
“You need to get her talking, Jules.”
“No kidding.” In the old days her word would have been enough to convince the media. Now, it would mean nothing.
“You want me to go get you the dreamcatchers?” Peanut said gently.
Julia hated to bend to pressure, but she had no choice. She couldn’t let Mort get a photo of her. She tossed her purse back onto the sofa. “Thanks, Pea. I’d appreciate that.”
THIRTEEN
An hour later Ellie and Peanut were back in the cruiser, heading for town.
“We need her to talk,” Ellie said quietly. No matter how much evidence they accumulated, the truth always boiled down to that.
“Julia is doing her best, but …”
“It could take a while. I know. And what if Mort’s photo ruins everything? If the legitimate media thinks we’re some hicks trying to put our city on the map, it’s over.”
“Don’t go looking for trouble, El. My Benji says—”
The car radio squawked. “Ellie? Are you there?”
“I’m not answering,” Ellie said. “It’s never good news anymore.”
“That’s a responsible choice. Probably just a ten-car pileup on the interstate, anyway. Or a hostage situation.”
Another clatter of static. “Chief? Julia says you’re in the car. If you don’t answer, I’m going to tell everyone you wrote a letter to Rick Springfield in the eighth grade. Over.”
Ellie hit the Talk button. “Don’t force me to bring out the photos of you with a perm, Cal.”
“There you are. Thank God, El. You need to get here now. Over.”
“What’s going on?”
“The kooks have landed. I swear to God.”
Ellie cursed under her breath. She hit the siren and gas at the same time. In minutes she was pulling into the parking lot and getting out of the car.
There were people everywhere, though not as many as yesterday. News vans clogged the street in front of the station and a line of people snaked from the front door and down the sidewalk. They weren’t the kind of people who’d shown up before. No cops from other precincts or private detectives or reporters or parents. This group looked like the Rocky Horror audience.
She brushed past them, ignoring their clamoring voices, and went into the station. Cal was at his desk, looking dazed and confused.
Earl sat at the other patrol desk. At Ellie’s entrance he smiled tiredly and said, “I just took a statement from a man who lives on the planet Rebar.”
Ellie frowned. “What?”
“That’s who came looking for the girl. A man—no, an ambassador—from Rebar. He had a tinfoil hat and black lips.”
Ellie sat down at her desk with a sigh. “Let ’em in, Earl. One at a time.”
“You’re going to talk to them?” Cal asked.