“Yes, she was here. Twenty minutes ago.”
“You’re going to try and tell the cops that a woman is missing because you haven’t seen her in twenty minutes?”
Eric was coming closer to the counter, and she suddenly found that whether she had known him all her life or not, she was nervous.
He had made those horrible scarecrows when she was a kid, and now he made movie monsters and devil masks. Why couldn’t Eric be the killer?
He hadn’t fit in as a kid, so he had created creepy scarecrows to win prizes and look cool.
She stared at him, praying that her fear didn’t show in her face.
First Adam, now Eric. They couldn’t both be killers. Could they?
“She didn’t lock the door, Eric. She always locks the door.”
“Which probably means she’s right nearby, maybe getting coffee or something.”
“We need the police.” She reached for the phone and nearly screamed when his hand settled over hers.
“Ro, I’m telling you, do not call the police.”
In the car, Jeremy tried calling Rowenna. Her phone rang once before his cut out and the “Searching for service” message filled the screen. He swore in aggravation.
“Mary is going to be okay,” Brad said, as if trying to reassure himself. “Joe has men out looking for Adam. They’ll pick him up right away, and they’ll get him to tell them where Mary is.”
Brad was like a ball of electricity, Jeremy thought.
“We don’t know that it was Adam,” he pointed out. “Anyone could have picked up that card at the shop.” He had been discreet in telling Joe about the possible gum, hoping not to give Brad reason to go flying off the handle, but it looked like it had been wasted effort.
“That card means he was out there,” Brad said flatly. “I wish you hadn’t shown that card to Joe. I wish I could have gotten to him first. I could have made him tell me where Mary is.”
“We’re going to find her,” Jeremy promised, wishing he felt as certain as he managed to sound. Undoubtedly they would find her. But in what condition?
Dead or alive?
Why had the dead boy in his dreams begun to haunt his waking moments? Why had he pointed to the sky, and then to the car?
And why had he told him to hurry?
It was that last question that worried him most of all, because he’d promised to pick up Rowenna—and what if he was too late?
“He’s a wacko, that’s what he is. A homicidal wacko,” Brad said. “I bet that bastard left his own shop, ran to that tent, put on a costume and waited for us to show up. He’s a hypnotist or something. And he buys all that weird shit for his shop. Maybe their incense is drugged. I should have seen it. Oh, God, this is all my fault.”
“It’s not your fault,” Jeremy said, but he was distracted, replying by rote.
There was a tractor in front of him. He gritted his teeth, praying for patience. He beeped, hoping it would move to the side of the road, but it just lumbered on.
Hell, he couldn’t see around the guy, but there was never anybody on this road. He floored the gas pedal, and they veered around it.
Luckily the truck coming from the opposite direction was still a good distance away. Jeremy just managed to pass and swerve back into his own lane.
“Fuck!” Brad said, staring at him.
“Sorry.”
“Hell, no, they should put you in control more often,” Brad said.
Jeremy reached for his phone, which finally had service, and hit Redial. Rowenna didn’t pick up. His sense of panic increased.
“Gun it,” Brad told him.
He did.
“Rowenna,” Eric said. He was staring at her, and suddenly, his tone turned pleading. “Don’t go causing trouble for them. They’re a nice couple. I know they’ve been having a few problems, but they’ll work things out. If you get the police involved, it will just make everything harder for them.”
He lifted his hand from hers.
She stared at him. “Eric, I think something is really wrong.”
“But…the police?”
There was a killer out there. And even though he had taken his hand off hers and was looking so sincere…
She still didn’t feel secure.
“All right, you stay here. I’ll go look and see if I can find them somewhere nearby,” she said.
To her relief, he agreed. “Okay, and if they don’t show up in an hour…well, I don’t know. We’ll worry about that if we have to.”
She headed for the door, trying not to run. She realized that she had left her purse somewhere in the store, but she wasn’t going back for it. She was going to get out to the street—where there were people.
But once again, as she neared the door, it burst open.
And this time, three uniformed police officers poured in.
“Officer O’Reilly?” Rowenna gasped, recognizing the first man through the door.
“Rowenna, are you all right?” he asked.
“Yes. What’s going on?” she demanded.
“Where’s Adam Llewellyn?”