The time to talk would come later.
He’d been a coward with her, before.
He wouldn’t be again.
Chapter 27
She woke with Paul wrapped around her, his long nose pressed into the curve of her neck, his arm looped around her possessively, drawing her close. She snuggled into him, stretched out her body, feeling like she was finally aware of each and every part of her.
For a moment, she was so distracted by this, by the marvel of him in her bed, with him in her arms, that she didn’t realize that something had woken her.
His phone was vibrating on the bedside table.
“Paul,” she whispered, nudging him.
He murmured, his hold tightening on her. “’Nother five minutes,” he muttered.
“Paul.” She poked him again. “Your phone.”
“Hmm?” He jerked up, squinting at the flash of light from the incoming call. He grabbed it, sitting up in bed. “Georgia?” he said into the phone. “It’s two in the morning. What in the—”
His entire body tensed up next to Abby. Her head whipped toward him, the air in the room suddenly changing, as he said, “How long has she been gone?”
Gone? Who was gone? Abby sat up, staring at him urgently. His expression was frozen, his throat working fiercely. “Georgia, I’m on my way. I don’t care what the sheriff says about needing it to be twenty-four hours. Tell him he issues the alert or I’ll have the FBI director call him personally. Okay? I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Stay calm.” He hung up, looking at Abby.
“Who?” Abby asked.
“Robin,” Paul said, and his voice cracked on his niece’s name. “Fuck. He took Robin.”
“Oh, my God.” Abby leapt out of bed, grabbing her shirt and tossing Paul his own. “We need to go. Are we sure it’s him? Maybe she’s at a girlfriend’s house? Maybe her car broke down?”
“She was supposed to come straight home from her wrestling meet,” Paul said. “She didn’t come back. She wouldn’t run away. Her phone’s turned off so we can’t track it. She’s his type—she has long, curly dark hair and a sweet face. And she’s my niece.”
Abby yanked her jeans on as he did the same. A horrible dread was building inside her as he got quieter and quieter. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll drive.”
She sped down the highway in the dark, her heart in her throat as Paul made call after call.
First, he called Cy.
“He’s taken my niece,” he said.
“I’m on my way,” Cy said, and hung up with a click.
The second call was to the director of the FBI.
“Edenhurst, it’s Harrison,” he said, his voice tense. “There’s a serial killer in Northern California. A journalist friend of mine stumbled onto his trail. She brought me in to help. And now he’s realized we’re onto him. He’s taken my niece. I need every resource in Northern California, Nevada, and Oregon at my disposal. Can you make that happen?”
He listened for a second. “Thank you. I’ll keep you updated.” He paused, listening again, his jaw working. “I’ll try, sir,” he said, and this time, his voice broke.
Abby reached over, squeezing his thigh reassuringly as he hung up, dialing another number.
As she drove, he made fifteen calls. From governors, to state reps, to the head of the highway patrol.
They were ten miles outside of Castella Rock by the time he finally put the phone down. He couldn’t seem to sit still, his fingers tapping against his knee, like they were itching for a trigger to pull and a man to aim a gun at.
She didn’t know what to say. It’s going to be okay? But what if it wasn’t? I’m sorry? Because she was.
Had her snooping tipped Cass’s killer off? Had he been watching her this whole time?
He must’ve chosen Robin for a reason—it was too much of a coincidence that he’d taken the niece of the man who was now hunting him.
God, she had done this. This was her fault. If anything happened to Robin . . .
She felt like pulling over and throwing up. She’d known Robin her entire life. She’d watched her wobble up the steps of the orchard house as a toddler, woven daisy wreaths for her hair when she was a flower girl in her aunt Faye’s wedding. At the barbecue this week, she’d just promised to help her on her college essays. The girl had the world at her fingertips.
She’d be damned if that bastard took her away like he did Cass.
“Nothing is going to happen to her,” she said, out loud, to make it real, for herself and for him.
“Something already has happened to her,” Paul said, and the resignation in his voice, the brokenness stole her breath for a moment.
She pulled off the highway, taking a left on Main Street, heading toward Georgia’s house. She parked across the street from it, and turned to him, all the resolve she felt in her face.
“We can do this. We’re going to get her back.”
“Abby, I can’t make those promises,” he said. “Not to my sister. Not when . . .” He stopped, staring down at his hands for a moment, and then finally, when he’d gathered himself, said, “I can’t make those promises, with who I am. With what I do. You know what happens, when you promise to bring a parent’s child home safe, and then you don’t?”
“It won’t be that way,” Abby said. “I won’t let it.”
He smiled, and it was a sad smile, a loving smile, a fond smile. He reached out, stroking a thumb over skin, following the constellation of freckles sweeping over the arc of her cheekbone. “You’ve always been so stubborn,” he said. “But we can’t promise them, Abby. All we can do is tell them what they already know.”
“What do you mean?”
“We tell them that Robin is a fighter,” he said. “In body, in mind, and in spirit. We tell them that she is smart and she is skilled. She will be looking to escape. She will take whatever out she has to. And we won’t tell them that this kind of spirit? This kind of strength? It’s likely going to get her killed unless I find her first.”
Abby felt like she’d been punched, and she knew the words were meant to knock the air out of her. He was telling it to her straight. Giving her a glimpse of what his world was like. God, how hard the last years must’ve been for him, alone, no one to share this with.
She lifted her chin. “Okay,” she said. “Then let’s go find her first.”
Georgia and Jason’s house was one of the nicer in town, but right now, it felt like a morgue as they walked inside. Tandy, Paul’s mother, opened the door when they knocked on it. When she met her only son’s eyes, the woman, who was built like steel with a heart to match, seemed to crumble.
“Paul,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “What do we do?”
“Where’s Georgia?” he asked.
“She collapsed,” said Faye, coming into the foyer. Her mouth was tense, but her eyes were clear, which made Abby feel slightly more assured. Faye was a tough cookie. She’d be the calming influence here. “She’s upstairs with Rose and Jason.”
“I need to talk to her,” Paul said.
“Why don’t we go and fix something to eat?” Abby asked Tandy and Faye, taking Paul’s hint. “We all need to keep our strength up. Where are the rest of the kids?”
“My kids are with their dad,” Faye said. “I haven’t told them. I haven’t even called Mara. You know how reception is over there even when she isn’t operating. I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Tandy assured her daughter.
The older woman looked over at the kitchen, her gray eyebrows knitting together like she’d never been in one before.
“Let’s sit down first,” Abby suggested, and Tandy seemed grateful for the guidance.
“I don’t understand how this happened,” she said. “There are people all over those meets. How did no one see her?”
“Have you talked to people who were there?” Abby asked. “What about the boys on her wrestling team?”
“The deputies are questioning everyone,” Tandy said. “But the sheriff said we couldn’t issue a missing person report!”