He’s tan, sunburned across a thick nose and full cheeks. His hair is dark brown and cut close to the scalp but not well-kept. It’s greasy and looks like someone took to parts of it with a dull pair of scissors. There are no scars or marks of interest on him. I guess he’s in his forties or has lived a hard life and is much younger.
Kissy moves behind me.
I see her with her cell phone.
She’s taking a picture of him. Damien is too.
“Recognize him?” I ask them.
Both shake their head.
“He was nasty, though,” Kissy says. “He also didn’t know Mom was gone.”
“Which means he doesn’t know you that well,” I say.
Damien bends down to get a better look. “If he doesn’t know about Kissy’s parents, I’m guessing he’s not from around here at all then.” He cusses. No one’s offended, given the circumstances. The sirens are a lot closer. “I gotta go. If Sheriff Fat Face needs me, tell him to call.”
Damien’s almost to the front door when he stops himself and calls back.
“Kissy—” I think he’s going to say he’s glad she’s okay. He doesn’t. “This is bad. Real bad.”
He doesn’t wait for her to respond and drives off right before the first patrol car pulls up out front.
Kissy’s been quiet, staring at the man again.
“What was Damien doing at the ranch?” she asks, not looking away. “Asking for Guidry?”
“Yeah. He heard Guidry came to see me the morning Alice was attacked.” I step back so my shoulder is brushing against hers. I don’t know if it’s to prove to myself that she’s okay—and there—or if it’s my attempt to show her she’s okay and I’m here for her.
She doesn’t seem to register it either way. “Everyone sure seems desperate to find a man who’s always invited danger to his doorstep.” She lets out a long, shuddering breath. Still no tears. “The sheriff’s not going to know what to do without him here to give out orders.”
“Guidry?”
Patrol cars screech to a halt outside; the clatter of their doors opening and slamming shut split the night.
Kissy picks up pace with her words. “Guidry doesn’t just runLa Lumiere. If he’s really missing, this whole town is about to feel the difference. Sheriff Roland surely isn’t immune to that.”
I can hear footsteps, but I focus on what I’m learning.
And what I still need to figure out.
Kissy, once again, seems to pick up on what I’m thinking. “After this, I guess it’s finally time to tell you some things I left out of the tour.”
This time, I nod. “I would appreciate that.”
I think of Micah Clayborn. The whole reason I called after originally telling Damien to get gone. Before, that is, grabbing the man again and telling him to hustle here.
Is the boy still in the basement?
I think he is.
No matter how much the image bothers me.
I touch Kissy’s elbow and drop my voice low so the approaching deputies won’t overhear me. “I need you to come to the ranch with me after this.”
She doesn’t ask questions, but she doesn’t say yes either.
The first deputy comes through the door, calling for her.
