I nod.
“That’s why it was muted. That’s why I kept seeing paths that weren’t there. Why I kept seeing you in places you couldn’t be . . . in the middle of that open area. They found it, by the way.”
I give her a blank look.
“Molly’s purse. Sam was there when they dug up the swimming pool this morning. They’ve put out a warrant for Lucas.”
“He was in the lab with Cregg tonight. So was Dacia. She wasn’t hurt, but . . . Lucas might be dead. I don’t know.”
I spend the next few minutes giving them a very abbreviated version of the past few days. Deo’s shoulders tighten next to me a few times, but he doesn’t add anything to what I say. I don’t mention that they injected him. I don’t want to bring that up right now, not when he’s already so stressed.
But I do reach into my bra and retrieve the vial I snagged from the fridge. “We need to find someone to analyze this. It may turn out to be nothing, but—”
I stop as we round a curve and I see red lights in the distance. “Is that the ambulance?”
Aaron starts flashing his headlights and pulls the Jeep onto a gravel parking lot.
Then we stand out of the way, helpless, as the paramedics move Daniel into the ambulance.
“Are you okay to follow in the Jeep?” Aaron asks. “I really hate to ask, given the hell you must have been through, but . . . Taylor. I don’t want her to be alone . . . just in case Daniel . . .”
“I’ll be fine,” I tell him, even though I’m far from certain on that point. “Go. Be with Taylor.”
“Okay.” He glances over at Deo, who’s leaning against the Jeep, trying not to look at the ambulance, and says in a lower voice, “I think maybe Deo needs some time with you anyway.”
Aaron’s hand lingers on mine when I take the keys, and he reaches up to touch my face. “Don’t run off with my mom’s Jeep, okay? I wouldn’t miss the Jeep, but I’d have to come looking for you again. And I would come looking.”
He starts toward the ambulance. I can see the paramedics inside hooking Daniel up to a machine of some type. “UM Harford. And be careful!”
We get into the Jeep and wait for the ambulance to pull out.
“Deo, you can’t blame yourself for this. I’m the one who said it was—”
“Anna, stop. I can’t talk right now, okay?” He bites his lip and looks out the window again. His dark eyes are glassy and I know how very much he hates to cry.
“Sure.” I bite back the urge to tell him I love him, because even that might push him over and maybe now isn’t the best time. I toss him my phone. “Can you navigate to UM Harford? In case I can’t keep up with the ambulance.”
And I can’t keep up. I’m not willing to put my secondhand driving skills to the test at eighty miles an hour. It doesn’t matter anyway. My phone rings a few minutes later and Aaron tells us there’s been a change of plans. They’ve decided to transport Daniel to the shock-and-trauma center in Baltimore via air ambulance.
Deo enters the new address into the GPS and we turn around to catch the interstate on-ramp.
After a few miles, I push play and the audiobook starts. It might be nice to ride through the night, believing in magic for a while, magic of either the Hogwarts variety or the Muggle sort that will keep Daniel alive.
But Aaron and Taylor must have been in the car a lot over the last few days, because they’re way past the point where we left off. And I’d forgotten how dark this one is at the end. They’re past the Ministry of Magic and back at Hogwarts now, where Dumbledore and Harry are arguing about Voldemort. About Voldemort crawling inside Harry’s head and trying to control him.
Way too close to what happened in the lab for comfort.
Deo and I both reach to turn it off at the same time.
We pull over at a rest stop north of Baltimore to change into clothes that aren’t soaked with blood. Even at three a.m. there are people around. I pull a clean sweatshirt over my camisole, which is more red than white now, grab the backpack with my clothes, and keep my head low.
There’s no shower, no paper towels. Just the sink, cold water, and hand soap.
Girl, you look like a poster for that Carrie movie.
He has a point. There’s blood on my arms and neck, even in my hair. Nothing to do but start scrubbing, hopefully before someone walks in with sleepy kids in need of a bathroom break. I’d probably give them nightmares for a week.
When I’ve done as much as I can, I shove the dirty clothes into my bag and start cleaning up the sink—