She returned her attention to the computer screen, re-read the implication that the missing woman had been on a drinking binge. She'd been taken to a hospital, checked out and deemed unharmed.
"Hey, Storm?"
She snapped her head up to see Jason poking his head back through the motel room door. She pasted a smile in place and forced her voice to be kind when she asked, “What is it, Jay?"
"Gary says it's a good ninety minutes to the nearest store that might carry printers. You sure you want me to go?"
Thank God.
She frowned and silenced the foreign voice in her head. "Yes, I still want you to go. In fact, it's vital."
"But are you sure you'll be okay here alone?"
"Don't worry, Jay. This thing is looking more and more like one of those `things-that-go-bump-in-the-night' cases. And so far, all those things tend to go bump only in the night. I'll be fine."
"What if it's a thing that goes bump by day?" he asked. She smiled, lifted up her shirt, and patted the pancake holster that rested snugly against her side and the .38 revolver it held. Lou had insisted on leaving his spare gun with her. "Then I'm gonna bump back,” she said. He nodded, seemed reassured.
"You have your list?"
"Got it,” he said. "I'll see you in a few hours." "Bye, Jay."
He backed out and closed the door. She made sure it was locked this time, chided herself for being irrationally eager to be rid of him, then went back to the Internet, relieved that she would be able to proceed uninterrupted.
Max stapled the poster to a telephone pole. She'd stapled so many now that her hand was sore. And Lou had managed to put up twice as many. They'd covered the surrounding towns first, stapling the posters up on every corner and stopping at every place of business along the way to ask if anyone had seen the girls. And maybe it was nothing more than the power of suggestion, but she swore her head had cleared and her energy was restored by the time away from Endover.
When they returned to town and began hanging up posters, the streets were quiet. A few people walked past but didn't seem the least bit interested in what they were doing. Just kept walking, not even looking twice. The people they questioned didn't seem surprised or troubled when Max and Lou showed them the posters, the way those in the neighboring towns had.
The fifth person who passed by her while she was stapling up a poster was a middle-aged man walking a scrawny Chihuahua . Max stopped stapling and stepped into his path.
"Hi, there. I'm Maxine. And you are?"
The man looked surprised. She saw Lou glance her way from across the street, saw him stop what he was doing and frown.
"I'm…Hadden Stoddard,” the man said. He sidestepped, as if to go around her. She sidestepped, too.
"Mr. Stoddard, aren't you even curious about what I'm doing here? Why I'm hanging up these posters?"
He glanced up at the poster she had just hung. "Looks like you're lookin' for those girls." Then he shrugged. "None of my concern."
"But they vanished from right here in this town. You live here. It's your town. Don't you think that makes it your concern?"
"It's not my town. It's his."
She frowned. "Whose?"
The man blinked, shook his head, sidestepped again. Again she moved with him.
"Whose town is it, Mr. Stoddard?"
"You should go home. Those girls will show up again."
"So I've been told. Tell me, why is everyone in this town so sure of that?"
He shrugged. "I have to go."
"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what you know about their disappearance,” she said. She saw, from the corner of her eye, Lou hurrying across the street. She would have to make it fast.
Stoddard looked her in the eyes. His seemed dull, lifeless, almost as if a thin film were lying over the blue. "You shouldn't ought to be poking around here, young lady. You ought to just wait. Be smart."
"Who's really in charge around here, Mr. Stoddard?"
"You ought to talk to the chief."
"I've talked to the chief. He's no help. But he's not the top dog in this town, is he? Who does he work for? The man they call `the prince'?"
Stoddard lowered his head. "Let me be, woman."
"Jesus, don't you want to help us? Don't you care what's happened to Delia and Janie? They're only seventeen. Just a couple of innocent girls who—"
"Leave him be, Max" Lou put a hand on her shoulder. "Sorry, mister. She's just upset. I'm sure you understand."
The man gave Lou a glance, a nod, then walked past Max and continued on his way. She turned to glare up at Lou. "Why didn't you let me grill him?"
"Because you catch more flies with honey. Besides, how do you know he knows anything?"
"Because he mentioned this town being `his.."' Lou's brows went up. "His?"
"Just ‘his’. Couldn't get him to elaborate. Might have, if you hadn't butted in just now."
"Hell, Max, I could see by your eyes you were getting ready to break out the bamboo for his fingernails, and I just couldn't watch."
"Next time, cover your eyes." She knew he wasn't being entirely honest. As a cop, he couldn't be squeamish about the occasional "hard interview." He was protecting her again, probably afraid she would piss off some local who might decide to retaliate.
He grinned. She smiled back, but it wasn't heartfelt. It went like that for the rest of the morning. People passed but didn't ask. Didn't seem to care. If she called them on it, she was advised to go home and wait for the girls to return.
As if they all knew something she didn't.
Just what the hell was up with this place?
It was after one o'clock, and she was starved, by the time they hung the last of their posters and hopped in her VW to head back to the motel. She let Lou drive because she was feeling unreasonably tired, and rested her head against the seat.
"I managed to question dozens of locals. But I feel as if I was talking to the same one, over and over again. Just with a different face and body."
Lou glanced her way, flipped on the AC and drove out of town. "Glazed eyes, kind of unfocused, sort of a monotone voice that just drones on."
"That's the one,” she said.
He nodded. "I think I met several versions of him myself."
"Hell."
He kept driving, past the motel, taking her out on the highway another five miles, before pulling over along the roadside, in a spot that looked out on the rocky shore below. He opened his door and got out. She couldn't seem to drum up the energy, but it didn't matter. A second later he was opening her door, tugging her arms until she was on her feet. He walked beside her, a hand draped casually over her shoulders, and led her to the wooden rail that had been placed along the very edge, where the pull off became a drop-off. Then he stood there, holding her up, more or less. The ocean breeze washed over her face. She closed her eyes and sucked it into her, blew out the bad air of Endover and sucked in some more of the good.
"Better?" Lou asked.
"Yeah."
"It's getting worse, isn't it?"
She nodded. "Whatever it is. Yeah. Or maybe it just seems worse 'cause we were in the middle of Endover proper most of the day. Maybe it's…denser there. Or more potent or something."
"I've got a call in to a friend of mine who works for the EPA. He hasn't returned it yet, but I'm gonna give him another call before we head back into the dead zone."
"Dead Zone,” she said. "Good name for it. Creepy, but good. What can your friend do?"
Lou shrugged. "I don't know. Tell me if the Environmental Protection Agency is aware of any known leaks or contamination issues in the area. Maybe come out here and take an air sample or something."
She nodded. "Hell, it can't hurt."
He reached for his cell phone, placed the call. Max sat down on top of one of the squat fence posts that held the barrier, watched the rolling waves below, the entire ocean seemed to undulate, to heave and relax again. Almost as if it were breathing. Then she sp
otted something and frowned.
"Lou?"
"Just a second, hon."
She glanced at him because of the "hon" part of the sentence, though she was getting used to him dropping endearments he didn't mean. Or maybe he did mean them—given that kiss this morning.
He finished his conversation and hit the power button, then turned his full attention to her. "I'm all yours."
"Liar."
"You know what I meant. "
"Unfortunately, I do. What did your friend say?"
"He checked. There's no history of any contamination of the air or water in Endover. Nothing on the books that he could find. He can come out, but it will be a few days. He's swamped."
She listened, watching him, the way the sea breeze ruffled his hair and the sun hit his face. Finally, remembering her train of thought, she nodded toward the ocean. "What is that?"
"What is what?" He shielded his eyes and looked. She pointed, her arm angling back toward the Endover coast. "That."
Frowning, he looked, then looked some more. "I don't know. An island?"
"Does it look to you like there's a house on it?"
"Can't tell from here. You have binoculars?"
"Not on me."
"Hell of a P.I. you are. You aren't supposed to leave home without 'em."
"So yank my license" She squinted harder but couldn't see any better. "Why haven't we noticed it from Endover?"
"Probably there's a bend in the shoreline, maybe some woods or a hill that blocks it from view. Or something."
"Yeah. It's the `or something' part that worries me."
* * *
Chapter 13
Look over there,” Lou said when they pulled the VW into a parking space at the motel late that afternoon.
Max looked where he indicated. A little boy was stationed outside Lou's motel room as if he were standing sentry duty.
"It's Sid. Wonder why he's outside?" She frowned. "You think Storm and Jay took off?"
"Jason's Jeep is still here."
They got out of the Bug and started across the parking lot. As they did, a car pulled in and moved in their direction, and suddenly Lou snapped his arm around Max's waist and propelled her quickly off the pavement as he kept a wary eye on the vehicle.
They stopped on the sidewalk that ran past the room doors. She put a hand over his on her waist, so he wouldn't take it away too soon, and looked up at him. "What was that about?"
"Just being careful."
She smiled a little, her heart going warm and gooey. The car, meanwhile, pulled harmlessly into a parking spot. "I like you this way. All protective and watchful."
"Someone made a try for you last night. We can't be sure he won't try again."
"A vampire made a try for me last night,” she reminded him. "He won't try again during broad daylight."
Lou shrugged and averted his eyes. "I'm just making sure he doesn't get the chance."
"Because you care about me."
"Of course I care, Max. You're one of my best friends. Maybe the very best, you know?"
"I know." She held his gaze, wishing he could see that there was a lot more than friendship flowing back and forth between them. But he knew that. He might deny it, but he knew. He had to know.
She could see the knowledge right now, in his eyes. "Hey, mister."
Lou jerked his gaze from hers, and Max felt lonely without it. But she turned with him to face the little boy who stood near Lou's door.
"Hi, Sid." Lou glanced at his watch. "Sorry I'm late." "It's okay. I waited."
"I see you did. Why didn't you go inside?"
The boy frowned. "You said meet you here. At the door."
Lou nodded, as if that made perfect sense. "That's right, I did, didn't I? Well, I'm here now, so you can come on inside."
The boy looked a bit hesitant. Max said, “Normally, you shouldn't talk to strangers, of course. But Mr. Malone is a policeman. A real one. So it's okay this one time."
Sid looked up at her and smiled his crooked-toothed smile. "It's okay. I know who's good and who's not."
"You do?"
"Uh-huh"
"And how do you know that?"
"By the colors. You have orange, red and yellow. And you're blue and green,” he told Lou.
Lou frowned, looking down at his clothes as if in search of the alleged colors.
"I think he's talking about auras."
"Nope. Jus' colors,” the boy said.
She smiled at him and tapped on the door. Footsteps crossed the room, then Stormy tugged it open. "You're back,” she said.
"And I'm beat. How about you?"
"Exhausted. Found some interesting stuff, though." She smiled down at the boy. "Good to see you again, Sid. You want some junk food?"
He frowned.
"Chips, dip, soda, cheesy poofs?"
"Yeah!"
"Help yourself,” she said, stepping aside and pointing to the table, where open bags and crumbs reigned supreme. The boy raced inside and dug in.
Max sank into a chair and leaned her head back against it. Lou went straight to the bathroom and came back with a pair of tablets in his palm, grabbing a diet cola from the ice bucket as he passed. He handed both to Max. "For the head."
"I'm fine."
"Take 'em, anyway. Humor me, huh?"
She nodded and took the pain reliever, washing it down with the soft drink. She thanked him with her eyes, then turned to Stormy. "We talked to people and put posters up in the next towns in three directions, then plastered Endover with them. Funny thing is, around here, no one is the least bit interested in knowing what we're doing or why. They don't ask. And when you tell them, they really don't seem to care."
Stormy nodded thoughtfully.
"The ones who responded at all mostly said the same thing. `Stop poking around, go home and wait. They'll turn up."'
Stormy nodded again. "Makes sense."
"How so?"
She reached for a stack of papers, and Max noticed the printer that sat on the table where none had been before. "You two have been busy,” she said.
"Yeah, Jason picked us up a printer, along with a full supply of snacks and Coke." She handed the stack of pages to Max. Lou leaned close to read over her shoulder. "A lot of people seem to disappear while passing through or near this place. Every one I've been able to check up on turned up safe and sound within a few days to a week later."
"I'll tell you one thing, it was a huge load off my mind when Stormy told me that,” Jason said.
Max flipped through the printouts of news articles Stormy had apparently found online. "Where were they found?"
"Usually within a few miles of their homes. The odd thing is, none of them had any memory of where they'd been."
Max frowned. "Break it down for me, Storm."
"Women, between twenty-two and thirty-eight, not counting our two seventeen-year-olds. Attractive, as I said before. Those seem to be the only common denominators. Other than that, they're all over the map. Married, single, professionals, blue-collar workers, some had kids, some didn't, and they come from a wide range of locations."
"But they were all passing through Endover?"
"Looks like."
"Did you lose somebody, too?" Sid asked.
Max had nearly forgotten the boy was in the room. She turned to look at him, sitting on the foot of the bed, a bowl of cheese curls in his lap, his lips coated in orange powder. Beside him was one of the posters she and Lou had run off at a print shop this morning. It had a photo of Delia and Janie on it. She'd sprung for the extra bucks to have the posters done in color. Grainy black and white just wasn't as effective.
Lou moved to the bed, sat down beside the boy. "That's right, we did. Those girls there in the picture. This one is Delia,” he said, putting a finger on Delia's face. "And that's her friend Janie."
The boy looked around the room, his gaze halting on Jason. "Don't worry,” he said. "They'll come back."
"How do you know that, S
id?" Lou asked.
The boy shrugged. "I don' know. I jus' do"
"Sid,” Max said, moving closer. "Have other people come here looking for people they've lost?"
"Sure,” he said with a nod. "But they don't find 'em here."
"They don't?"
"Nope. They find 'em home." He looked again at Jason.
"You should go home. That's where she's gonna be."
"I'm not so sure about that, kid,” Jason said.
"Is that why you're so spotty?"
"Spotty?"
"Are you talking about his colors, Sid?" Maxie asked. Sid nodded, and she looked at Jason. "You know I can't see them, like you can."
"Nobody can." He lowered his eyes, looking a little sad.
"What do Jason's colors look like?"
"Not good,” he said. "Can't even see the real colors—got a dark cloud over 'em. Like everybody else around here. An' black spots, too."
"Everybody in this town has a dark cloud over their colors?" Max asked.
He looked at her, then at Lou. "My mama says it's all in my head. Same as the night man."
"The night man?"
He nodded, his eyes big, searching, and fearful. Until Lou said, “I think I saw the night man, too, Sid. I saw him last night."
Sid blinked, looking as if he didn't quite believe it. "Grown-ups never see him."
"Maybe some grown-ups can,” Lou said. "I sure saw someone. Someone with long dark hair. And he was in dark colors." Lou lifted his brows. "I mean, his clothes were dark-colored. I don't know what his other colors were like."
"He don't have any. I thought maybe 'cause he wasn't real, like Mama said." Sid lifted his gaze to Lou's. "But he does have long black hair and black clothes."
"And you're the only one who's ever seen him?" Lou asked.
"I don't know. Maybe."
"Do you know where he lives?"
Sid averted his eyes quickly, swiping them with the back of his hand.
Lou leaned closer. "Hey, it's okay. Don't be afraid."
"I'm not. It's just—nobody ever believed me before." Max glimpsed a tenderness in Lou's eyes she had never seen there. A moment later, he was hugging the boy close, patting his back.
Wings of the Night 08 Blue Twilight Page 15
