“I don’t think Cyrus is going to call and ask any of us to forward his clothes, do you?” Twyla checked the closet and chest of drawers. She went down on her knees and one hand, lifted the sheet and lightweight blanket, and checked under the bed. “This place needs a good cleaning. The only thing that woman ever tried to keep clean was herself, and even that . . .”
Monty helped his mother to her feet. “Right now this apartment is part of the investigation. After . . . Well, I think Eve will appreciate some help cleaning it up.”
She placed her hand over his. “Why are you here, Crispin? One of the young officers could be doing this. You should be out there, helping Mr. Simon find that girl.”
“My brother abducted Meg. My nephew created the diversion that helped him do it. If my involvement provides a loophole . . .”
She gave his hand a light slap. “You’re feeling guilty. So am I. Cyrus was here because we are here. We’re not responsible for what he chose to do. But either of us using Cyrus as an excuse for not doing what we can now?” She shook her head. “When you needed help with Lizzy, Mr. Simon stood by you, helped you protect your own. Now you do the same for him, as a police officer and as a man.”
Monty put his arms around her and held on for a long moment. “You’re right, Mama. You’re right.” He released her and stepped back. “Two of these carryalls need to go to the station, so I’ll wait until you get everything packed. Then I’ll go to the station and see what I can do about locating Jimmy.”
Clarence’s clothes were mostly in a pile on the floor. Twyla picked up a piece, sniffed it, and made a face. “I’ll wash these first. See if you can find anything clean for him right now.”
Monty found a T-shirt that looked like it had been run over by a lawn mower, but it smelled clean enough. “Is tattered the new fashion in Toland?”
“Boys,” Twyla said with a shrug.
Not sure how to interpret that, despite having been a boy himself, Monty went into the living room to call Captain Burke while Twyla went into the other bedroom to deal with Sandee’s clothes and personal items.
“Any news?” Monty asked when Burke answered the phone.
“Nothing yet, but we’ve eliminated all the car rental places, so the vehicle Cyrus is driving was either stolen or rented from a private citizen.”
“Needle in a haystack.”
“Officers are going to places around the university that might have bulletin boards for such things.”
“Anything I can do?”
“Crispin?” Twyla called.
“Supply whatever assistance you can to the Courtyard,” Burke said.
“Crispin!”
“Captain, I have to go.” Monty ended the call and hurried into the bedroom where Twyla had been packing up Sandee’s things. “Mama?”
Twyla held out a plain glass jar with some kind of white cream inside. “Careful. It looks like skin cream but it has a sharp smell, like something I would use for cleaning. Could this be the stuff that hurt Miss Leetha?”
Monty opened the jar and took a cautious sniff. Then he closed the jar. Had someone developed something that wouldn’t harm a human but was toxic to the Sanguinati? Or had the substance been aimed at anyone living in the apartments—especially the women, who would be more likely to use a moisturizer—and Leetha had been injured by accident?
“I have to take this in and get it tested,” he said. He eyed the makeup and powders and lotions. “I’ll take all of this into evidence. Don’t touch any more of it, okay, Mama?”
Twyla nodded. “I’ll pack up the clothes.”
He noticed she didn’t offer to wash anything for Sandee—or for Jimmy.
Pulling out his mobile phone again, Monty called Vlad and told him his suspicion about the skin cream and suggested that the Sanguinati healer talk to a doctor at Lakeside Hospital if the healer didn’t have any experience with treating someone who had ingested a toxic human-made substance. Then he called Burke in case the substance was intended to harm any human who put it on her skin. Finally he called Debany, since Kowalski was escorting Clarence from the hospital to the station. The boy had stitches on his back and shoulders from the Hawk’s talons, but she hadn’t raked him as deeply as she could have—as she would have if she had known about Meg being abducted.
“Officer Debany, I need evidence bags brought to the apartment.”
“But we checked everything,” Debany protested.
“We missed something.”
? ? ?
Jimmy sat at the end of the counter, chomping on a hamburger and fries. He’d found the diner with the name the cha-ching had given him. So far he was ahead of the cops and the freaks, and he intended to stay that way.
Two cars pulled in. A deeply tanned young man and woman got out of one car and three teenage boys got out of the other. As they walked into the diner, they were all talking.
“Weirdest thing I ever saw,” one of the teenage boys said. “Keeping pace with the cars.”
“It was creepy the way they kept trying to look into the car,” the woman said.
“I slowed down and took off my sunglasses,” her companion said. “They seemed okay with us driving on after that.”
“They’re looking for somebody,” another teenage boy said. “Did you see the roadblock? We saw a couple of cars the cops had pulled over and were searching. I think if you didn’t slow down enough for the Crows to look at you, they signaled to the cops somehow to block the road. Like if you didn’t slow down, you had something to hide.”
Jimmy dropped the hamburger on the plate. It wasn’t sitting so well anymore.
“We heard on the radio that roadblocks were being set up at all the towns in the Northeast,” the woman said. Then she shuddered. “A manhunt like this? Somebody must have done something really bad.”
The two groups split up as the waitress showed them to their booths. But other men eating at the counter turned to ask them about the roadblocks and the Crows who were pacing cars.
The men at the counter shook their heads and agreed that this was a bad place to be if the Others were looking for you. Crows and Hawks were often seen around the rest stops or small places like this. The men who drove delivery trucks and made regular runs along this route swore the Others knew their trucks and their faces. Didn’t bother them any. In fact, it was advantageous when some of their deliveries were made to little towns that looked human but weren’t.
Stomach burning and appetite gone, Jimmy paid for his meal and accepted the offer of a to-go container because leaving the food would give the waitress a reason to remember him. He bought a small bottle of water and went to the car.
As soon as he opened the trunk a few inches the bitch tried to push the lid up a little more.
“Get your fucking fingers back inside or I’ll slam the lid on them.”
Her fingers retreated.
He tossed the water bottle into the trunk. “If you mess yourself before I let you out, you’ll be breathing in the stink.”
He closed the trunk, got behind the wheel, and dropped the to-go container on the passenger seat. Then he headed south. He’d passed unmarked dirt roads that intersected with the paved roads. He’d take one of those as soon as he could.