“Did she mention a place she might go if she ran away? Some place she felt safe or wanted to visit.”
“Once she mentioned college, but she didn’t specify a certain one.” Sally’s weary sigh echoed back. “Frankly I think she was so busy fighting to survive that she just kept things to herself. Said one time she didn’t want to jinx things.”
Ellie bit her tongue. Yet Bonnie hadn’t survived.
“If you think of anything that might be helpful, please give me a call.”
“I will,” Sally said. “Please find whoever did this. I… somehow feel responsible. Like I missed something and let her down.”
“I’m sure you did the best you could. The system is broken and I realize you’re probably overworked,” Ellie said, although excuses didn’t keep innocent kids safe. “But I promise to get justice for her.”
Ellie reached the graveled road to the Wileys’ house, assured Sally she’d keep her posted then steered the Jeep up the drive. Her tires spit gravel as she spotted Cord’s truck parked in front of the house. Thankfully he’d waited on her as she’d requested.
But his was the only vehicle.
She pulled up beside him then slid from the driver’s side. The wind swept her ponytail into a frenzy, the winter chill intensified by the isolation of the dingy clapboard house.
“Find anything at the graveyard?” Ellie asked as he walked toward her.
“Nothing useful,” he murmured, a lock of his shaggy brown hair falling across his forehead. His look seemed guarded and he didn’t make eye contact. Then again, he’d had a bad experience in foster care. Her heart ached for him. Bonnie’s situation was probably resurrecting his own trauma.
Ellie gestured toward the house. “Seen any activity?”
“No. Place looks deserted.”
Ellie pressed her hand over her weapon as they crept up the path to the front porch. Pigeons had roosted on the windowsill, their droppings evident. The wood was rotting, paint peeling, the steps squeaking as she climbed them. She and Cord exchanged wary looks as they crossed to the front door. She opened the screen, knocked and identified herself. “Police. Anyone home?”
Silence accentuated the echo of her voice. A bad feeling nagged at Ellie as she pushed open the front door.
The entryway was small and led to the living room and tiny kitchen. Faded orange linoleum covered the floor and the walls were a dull gray. A musty, damp odor wafted toward her. Mold maybe.
As far as she could see inside, the house was empty. Bare of furniture.
She scanned the living room and kitchen and realized the rooms had been cleared out.
“They’re gone,” she murmured.
“Probably saw the news about Bonnie’s body being found and knew we’d come knocking.”
Why would that have scared them away… unless they’d killed Bonnie?
TWENTY-NINE
Somewhere on the AT
The itch to take another girl was driving him crazy. But it was too dangerous to abduct one in town or to return to the graveyard at the moment.
Adrenaline heated his veins. The cops and that ranger were all over the place, swarming like flies. And there were the visitors and tourists who’d come to see that damned memorial. He’d been totally against it for a lot of reasons but most of all because it stirred up the gossip about the disappearance of the Higgins girl. The gravestones had drawn media attention and now the Sylvester girl’s body had been discovered, the town was once again thrust into the limelight.
Not what a man like him needed to stay under the radar.
Laughter caught in his throat. No worries. He had a giant hunting ground along the AT, little towns where no one would even notice a stranger passing through.
He had that kind of face. That kind of demeanor.
That side that no one knew about. Not even the people closest to him.
THIRTY
