Page 32

CHAPTER 32

We parked on the curb in front of the Leland home. Mike was visible through the front windows, his arms flying around as he spoke to the two uniformed officers in the living room. He had a phone in each hand, I assumed his and Andi’s.

“Let’s wait a few minutes, let him get everything out before we go in,” I said.

“Poor guy,” Maddie said.

“Poor Andi,” I added.

A few minutes passed. We sat in silence, Maddie biting her nails, me attempting to lip read, figure out what the cops were saying to Mike and he to them, and failing.

“Okay, looks like their wrapping it up,” I said. “Let’s go in and see what we can do to help.”

We slid out of the car and approached the house. Before I could knock on the door, Mike opened it, his expression one of despair.

“Perfect timing,” he said. “The officers are just leaving. Maybe you two can do what those two will not.”

He threw a thumb behind him toward the officers, who stood expressionless with their hands on their belts.

Mike stepped aside, and we stepped inside. I’d hoped I would recognize the officers from the old trafficking case, but their faces were unfamiliar. I introduced us as family friends. They nodded, told Mike to keep in touch, then left.

The sound of their cruiser starting, then pulling away filled the space.

“Come on in, have a seat,” Mike said, dragging his fingers through his hair.

Maddie rushed over and gave him a hug. “Oh, Mike. We’re so sorry this is happening. What did they say?”

“Took the information I gave them down but can’t file a report because it’s only been, like, what? An hour? They thought I was nuts. And yes, they both knew about our prior traumatic experience.”

“I would have expected that to have some impact, at least.”

“I mean, maybe it did. Who knows? They’re going to talk to the neighbor friend at least.”

“They didn’t look sympathetic,” Maddie put in.

“Ya think?” Mike scoffed. “Hell, I don’t know what to do with myself right now.”

“Did you tell them about the note from the coffee shop?” I asked.

He slapped a hand to his forehead, head shaking. “Oh crap …”

He hadn’t.

It would have made all the difference, but I couldn’t fault him for not remembering. I hadn’t even thought about it until just now.

“Call them, let them know about the note,” I said. “They’ll understand why you’re all over the place. Meanwhile, we’ll drive around and see if anything jumps out at us. If we’re lucky, it’ll be Andi.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“I think it’s better for you to stay put. You need to be here in case she comes home.”

Maddie held up a finger. “I have an idea. If Mike is okay with it, why don’t I take his car, you take ours, Sloane, and that way we can cover more ground together.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said, “Mike?”

“Yeah, great idea, Maddie. Thank you so much.” He walked over to a wooden bowl sitting on a table along the wall and pulled out a set of keys. “Standard SUV. Nothing fancy.”

Maddie took the keys. “I can handle that.”

“We’ll fan out from the neighborhood,” I said. “You go one way, I’ll go the other. Cover each block as best you can.”

“Will do.”

I turned my attention to Mike. “Call one of us if you hear anything else. And call the police department about the note. It might make a difference, convince them to look for her sooner than later.”

And then we were off.

My route took me past Andi’s friend’s house. The empty cruiser was parked in the driveway, so the officers were talking to the neighbor family like they’d said they would. Much wouldn’t come from it, but then again … sometimes we caught a break in the crime-fighting world. I prayed this was one of those cases.

Thirty minutes into my search—with the windows down despite the cold—and all was quiet. Barely a vehicle on the road. No one walking about. No screams, no struggles.

I called Maddie, who was experiencing the same. We agreed to give it another half hour and then head back to the Leland home.

As my mind swirled, thinking of where Andi was and why she hadn’t made it home, I did my best to shrug off the idea that the worst possible scenario may have come true.

I then dialed Mike to get and give updates.

I shared our lack of progress, assuring him we would put some more time in before heading back. I also reminded him that teens were known to miss curfews, and there was always a first time for everything.

But Andi’s phone on the front lawn confused the issue.

It told me she’d made it home, to the driveway anyway.

Stalker Man came to mind.

The phone felt like a brazen dramatic touch, something his narcissistic self would do.

I tried to imagine the scene that may have gone down. Andi could have left her friend’s house to walk a short way down the sidewalk to her own home—in time to make her curfew. A car pulled alongside, someone hopped out and dragged her into the running vehicle before peeling away, leaving Andi helpless in the backseat.

No, no … that wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. Andi would have screamed. She would have fought. Someone would have heard.

Then, what?

Maybe the person acted like they knew her or needed help.

Maybe it was a two-person crime, where one person walked up behind her, knocked her out, while the other person pulled up in the getaway car.

To where?

Where are you, Andi Leland?

As I became lost in my own head, I realized Mike was saying something.

“I’m sorry, Mike, could you repeat that?” I asked.

“Yeah, so … I’ve been going through Andi’s phone to see if there was anything out of the ordinary. Like, maybe another friend had called and convinced her to go somewhere. I’m not seeing anything like that.”

It was a much better scenario than anything going through my mind at the moment.

“Well, maybe someone pulled up when she left her friend’s house,” I said, then added, “Another friend, I mean.”

“The phone on the lawn is odd. Doesn’t make sense. She wouldn’t leave it behind.”

There was a moment of silence between us.

“I’m going to keep on driving. Maddie will too. We agreed to meet back at the house in about—” I checked the time on my phone “—oh, about twenty minutes or so.”

When he didn’t respond, I nudged, “Mike?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I just thought of something. If she did …”

“If she did what?”

“Andi’s bird, Sloane.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but he sounded excited. “Andi has a bird? I’m not following.”

“Not a bird bird, a Birdie. We call it the Bird. It’s a personal alarm. Small thing, but it packs a punch. Strobes, outrageous siren. She always keeps it on her. Tonight, she was wearing jeans, so she would have it in her pocket. Let me check.”

I heard drawers opening and closing, his breath heavy in the phone as he searched.

“It’s not here,” he said. “She has to have it on her. If she’s in trouble, she’ll use it. We practiced a million times.”

Assuming she could get to it—a thought I kept to myself. All in all, this was great news. Andi was a scrapper. If she had been taken, and if there was a way out, a means of escape, she’d find it.

“Mike, hold on to that hope,” I said.

“I sure will. See you soon.”

We said our goodbyes, and I called Maddie, telling her about the discussion I’d just had with Mike.

“Oh, please let the Birdie sing,” Maddie said through a yawn. “Sorry, I’m tired.”

So was I.

Exhausted.

And then she screamed, and I slammed my foot on the brakes, frozen at the wheel.