“What do we have here?” a man’s voice drawled from the dark. She recognized the voice but didn’t place it until he stepped into the headlights of the van. Detective Mendelson.
Lily slumped with relief. “Jesus Christ,” she whispered, clutching her chest. His face, never friendly to begin with, now seemed carved from disapproving granite. “Detective? What’s wrong now?”
“Oh, you know me, Ms. Brown,” he drawled. “Always keeping an eye out for strange goings-on. What are you up to this fine evening?”
“Just helping out a customer,” she said.
He looked into the van, shining his flashlight into each woman’s face for long seconds, then dipping it down toward the mop of hair visible in Connie’s arms. Lily heard the little boy whimper.
“You said the gates were shut after six on Sundays, didn’t you? Thought you were closed for the night.”
Lily felt her jaw spasm with sudden fury. How dare he? How dare he scare this woman and child and question Lily’s right to manage this place how she saw fit? “Jones isn’t here,” she bit out. “I’m not hiding him, I’m not smuggling him out, so please leave us in peace.”
“There’s a woman missing,” he said.
“I still don’t know anything about her!”
“I meant another woman.”
That froze Lily’s anger, cracking through it like ice. “What? What do you mean?”
“An eighteen-year-old has been reported missing, last seen two days ago.”
“Near here?” she squeaked.
“Near enough. Would you mind if I look in the back?”
She was almost sure they could say no, but she glanced at the driver and was greeted with the barest nod. Lily waved him around. She heard him open the doors. A few heartbeats passed, thundering in her ears. Then the doors closed with a heavy thunk that shook the van.
“Can my customer leave now?” she asked. “It’s late, and she’s in the middle of a move.”
“It is late for a move,” he said dryly, “as you say.” But he tipped his head at the driver, and she immediately hit the gas, taking them away into the night. And leaving Lily with a cop who seemed to think it was equally likely that she could be hiding a fugitive or kidnapping local women. Maybe both.
“What happened to this girl?” she asked as Mendelson stepped back outside the fence line. He was watching the taillights of the van—or memorizing the license plate—and didn’t notice Lily step back. She hit the button to close the gate and lock him out, taking petty joy in his annoyance when he swung around in surprise to peer at her past the chain link.
He blew out an annoyed breath and shook his head. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the details. You’ll see it in the paper tomorrow.”
“Don’t you want me on the lookout for her? Are you going to describe her? Or are you really just here looking for Jones again?” When he didn’t answer, she rolled her eyes. “He’s not here. He’s never been here. I haven’t seen him in six years!”
“She’s eighteen,” he said as if she hadn’t just yelled at him. “Skinny. Long blond hair. You seen anyone like that driving off through your gates, Mrs. Arthur?”
Mrs. Arthur again. God, she wanted to slap him. That probably wouldn’t help the situation, but it would almost be worth it. “No. No, I haven’t seen a teenager around here. What happened?”
He spread his hands. “She’s missing. Drug problems and whatnot. Probably ran off, but you never know.”
She shook her head in weary exasperation. He wasn’t here looking for that missing girl. “Did anyone really see my ex-husband in town? Honestly?”
“All I said was someone called in a prowler. You’re the one confirming it was Jones.”
“I’m not confirming anything. I don’t know anything. Have you . . . ?” God, she didn’t want to ask him for even one thing, but she needed to know. “Have you heard more about Jones? Do you really think he was here?”
His eyes narrowed. He stared at her for a long moment. “Seems unwise to fill you in, doesn’t it?”
Lily wanted to scream. She needed to know if Jones was back in Kansas.
But she couldn’t trust this man. He thought she was running a human smuggling ring or something, so he could be making the whole thing up just to put pressure on her, have an excuse to hassle her and spy on her at night.
“I’m going inside,” she said tiredly.
“Good night, Mrs. Arthur. I’ll see you again soon.”
She moved back to her dark corner, then turned to watch Mendelson leave. He walked across the road to the parking area in front of the plumbing shop. His spotlight blazed for another two minutes before he finally switched it off, revealing the dark silhouette of his sedan.
When he pulled away, she let her head fall back against the rough brick, closing her eyes and trying to pull the peaceful night back around her. It didn’t work. A girl had gone missing, perhaps really missing this time, and now Lily felt eyes on her in the dark.
Shivering, she pushed off the wall and headed back into the high walls and shuddering metal of the buildings to close everything up. She refused to give in to the paranoia that crawled over her skin and look behind her for shadows in the night. The fence rattled somewhere. Something scurried up ahead. But she was so tired of being a coward, so Lily walked on.
She pulled the door down with a clatter that echoed like thunder through the empty complex. Feeling vulnerable with her back to all the lurking shadows, she quickly snapped on the lock. Despite her nerves, she felt grateful. Grateful that Connie had gotten free, and grateful that her last promise to Zoey was fulfilled.
Zoey was amazing, but she made Lily feel too small in comparison. She’d tell her tomorrow that she couldn’t help anymore. The idea made her sad, because Lily knew that without this thing connecting them, it would be too easy for her to withdraw and hide out here, keep invisible at the edge of town.
She bent to grab her darkened lantern, and that was when she heard it. The worst sound she could imagine: the terrifying, wavering scream of her son.
“Mom!” he shrieked, his scraping, straining voice barely reaching her past the metal and cement of the buildings.
She dropped the lantern and leaned into a sprint. “Everett!” she cried out.
“Mom!” he yelled again. “Mom!”
“I’m coming!” she cried, the syllables bursting from her like blows as her feet hit the ground. “Everett! I’m coming!”
If he screamed again, she couldn’t hear it over her pounding feet and galloping heart, but she made it past the corner faster than she could’ve imagined and bent a wide arc toward his voice. She thought of the missing girl. Of Jones. Of Connie’s cruel husband. Even of Detective Mendelson.
A sob wrenched from her when she saw him standing on the wet cement of their front walk, barefoot and shivering.
He cried out one more time when he saw her, and then she was barreling into him, snatching him up into her arms to squeeze him to her.
“Everett, what’s wrong? What happened?” He clung hard as she twisted in a circle, looking for threats, covering his head with one hand as if to ward off blows.
“I thought he took you!” he rasped.
“What? Who?”
“I thought you were in the office, and I couldn’t find you. I thought he took you, and I’d never see you again.”
“Oh, honey,” she gasped. “Oh, baby, I’m fine. I was just checking on something. Everything’s okay. I’m right here.”
He quieted then, only his gasping, tortured breath breaking the silence of the night. She pressed her chin to the top of his head as she hugged him closer, breathing in the scent of the new shampoo he’d recently started buying, infused with manly smells like sandalwood and cedar instead of the softer scent of strawberry.
“It was only that police officer again,” she whispered. “That’s all.”
He grew heavy in her arms as her terror wore off, but she shifted her weight, trying to balance her strength so she wouldn’t have to let him go, until he took one more shuddering breath and straightened his body to slide free of her.
“Why was he here?” he whispered. “Is he here for Dad?”