Page 122 of What She Saw

He reached behind the seat and opened a small toolbox. He handed me a red-handled screwdriver. “Should I ask?”

I shook my head. “I’ll be right back.”

“Roger.”

Out of his car, I walked down the street, pumping my arms as if I were out for an evening power walk. I walked into Susan’s cul-de-sac and spotted her van in the driveway of the last house. The lights were on in her home, but I strolled by, keeping my head turned. I circled the cul-de-sac and then approached her car. I jammed the screwdriver into the back tire. Air hissed out.

Standing, I returned to Grant’s truck, and he drove. “There’s a strip mall a mile from here. We can wait it out.”

“Right.”

He swung into a drive-through, grabbed a couple of hamburgers, fries, and sodas, and parked in a darkened portion of the lot. I nibbled fries and sipped soda.

“I can take the first shift watching the tracker,” he said.

“No need. I’m a bad sleeper.”

We both sat in silence for most of the night. I dozed once and found myself tripping into a dream. Patty was there, smiling and holding her arms open for me. I stood stock straight, unwilling to let her embrace me. She smiled, accepting that her daughter had never been one to show affection.

The rising sun leaked over the dashboard, and when I opened my eyes, Grant was drinking hot coffee. There was a fresh soda in the drink container. I sipped. He was a good guy. Generous. “Time to visit Susan.”

“Want me to come?”

“No. Better it’s just me.” I smiled, hoping it looked genuine.

He arched a brow. “I’ll be right here.”

Grant wove through the suburban streets that all looked alike, and he found Susan’s house. In the daylight, I noted her yard was small but maintained. A ballerina flag hung under her mailbox.

He parked behind Susan’s white van, a vehicle no one would notice or remember. But that was the point, right?Don’t let your guard down. Always hide.

I grabbed my purse and walked up the trimmed walkway to the front door. A summer wreath made of fake sunflowers hung from the door.

I rang the bell. When I didn’t hear any movement, I rang it again. “Come on, Susan. We need to rip this Band-Aid off.”

Seconds later, footsteps sounded in the hallway and the door opened. Her blond hair was pulled back in a tight dancer’s bun. Her fitted top molded against a thin frame, and a light skirt skimmed over a leotard.

The instant she saw me, she tried to close the door. I put out my hand and blocked it.

“I don’t want to cause trouble,” I said.

“Get off my property or I’m calling the cops.”

I pressed hard against the door. “Do you really want to call the cops, Susan? I’ll get arrested for trespassing, but then I’ll start telling the police my story. And it’s going to stir up a lot of questions.”

“Go away!”

“Do you know that Colton is scheduled to be released soon? The powers that be decided thirty-one years was enough. And he’s got cancer. Compassionate release, from what I hear. He’ll be interested to see you, I bet.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“My mother was Patty Reed. She was one of Colton’s victims. I’m trying to find her body.”

“I don’t know her name.” She pushed harder.

Irritation snapped. I was tired of reminding people that my mother had existed. “She sold hamburgers at the festival. My grandmother was babysitting me when she vanished.”

“Go away!”