At the Quiet Edge(58)

Still, when the van approached, she was ready for it and rushed over to hit the override button near the gate. She closed it again after the van passed, then directed the woman to the right building before following behind.

Connie was clearly eager to get moving. By the time Lily joined them, they’d already wrestled the recliner up into the van and were pushing it to the back. Lily winked at the little boy and handed him the baggie of toy cars, thrilled to see his eyes light up as he accepted them and held them tight to his chest.

Between the three of them, it took only a few minutes to get everything packed, and then Connie’s friend was slamming the doors and getting back behind the wheel. There had been no introductions, and there were no goodbyes.

Connie lifted her son up and buckled him into the middle of the bench seat; then she followed. “Thank you so much,” she said solemnly.

“Stay safe,” Lily murmured before hurrying back toward the front gate to open it for them.

The van was starting through the opening when the night exploded with white light.

She thought it was lightning at first, but it didn’t flash out; it didn’t fade. These were headlights.

The van had jerked to a stop next to her, and Lily looked through the window to see Connie’s face contorted in a terrified grimace, her son’s head pressed to her side, her arms shielding him from whatever might come.

Lily had a terrible, booming thought of an enraged husband with a gun, cutting down everyone near his wife. Thank God Everett was inside. Thank God he was safe.

“Just go!” she said, thinking they’d all have a better chance if the van were moving, but then a car door closed somewhere, and footsteps approached. Lily could hear her own panting breath as she raised shaking hands to ward off an attack. “Go,” she croaked again.

“What do we have here?” a man’s voice drawled from the dark. She recognized the voice but didn’t place it until he stepped into the headlights of the van. Detective Mendelson.

Lily slumped with relief. “Jesus Christ,” she whispered, clutching her chest. His face, never friendly to begin with, now seemed carved from disapproving granite. “Detective? What’s wrong now?”

“Oh, you know me, Ms. Brown,” he drawled. “Always keeping an eye out for strange goings-on. What are you up to this fine evening?”

“Just helping out a customer,” she said.

He looked into the van, shining his flashlight into each woman’s face for long seconds, then dipping it down toward the mop of hair visible in Connie’s arms. Lily heard the little boy whimper.

“You said the gates were shut after six on Sundays, didn’t you? Thought you were closed for the night.”

Lily felt her jaw spasm with sudden fury. How dare he? How dare he scare this woman and child and question Lily’s right to manage this place how she saw fit? “Jones isn’t here,” she bit out. “I’m not hiding him, I’m not smuggling him out, so please leave us in peace.”

“There’s a woman missing,” he said.

“I still don’t know anything about her!”

“I meant another woman.”

That froze Lily’s anger, cracking through it like ice. “What? What do you mean?”

“An eighteen-year-old has been reported missing, last seen two days ago.”

“Near here?” she squeaked.

“Near enough. Would you mind if I look in the back?”

She was almost sure they could say no, but she glanced at the driver and was greeted with the barest nod. Lily waved him around. She heard him open the doors. A few heartbeats passed, thundering in her ears. Then the doors closed with a heavy thunk that shook the van.

“Can my customer leave now?” she asked. “It’s late, and she’s in the middle of a move.”

“It is late for a move,” he said dryly, “as you say.” But he tipped his head at the driver, and she immediately hit the gas, taking them away into the night. And leaving Lily with a cop who seemed to think it was equally likely that she could be hiding a fugitive or kidnapping local women. Maybe both.

“What happened to this girl?” she asked as Mendelson stepped back outside the fence line. He was watching the taillights of the van—or memorizing the license plate—and didn’t notice Lily step back. She hit the button to close the gate and lock him out, taking petty joy in his annoyance when he swung around in surprise to peer at her past the chain link.

He blew out an annoyed breath and shook his head. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the details. You’ll see it in the paper tomorrow.”

“Don’t you want me on the lookout for her? Are you going to describe her? Or are you really just here looking for Jones again?” When he didn’t answer, she rolled her eyes. “He’s not here. He’s never been here. I haven’t seen him in six years!”

“She’s eighteen,” he said as if she hadn’t just yelled at him. “Skinny. Long blond hair. You seen anyone like that driving off through your gates, Mrs. Arthur?”

Mrs. Arthur again. God, she wanted to slap him. That probably wouldn’t help the situation, but it would almost be worth it. “No. No, I haven’t seen a teenager around here. What happened?”

He spread his hands. “She’s missing. Drug problems and whatnot. Probably ran off, but you never know.”