At the Quiet Edge(92)

Mendelson reached into his jacket for an envelope. He opened it and drew out a necklace. “After a long search, they’ll find some of the souvenirs Brian Bennick collected from the girls he killed. And that will be the end of this tragedy. Everything tied up with a neat little bow for those backwater idiots down at the station. His journalist cousin was getting too close to the truth, and you two were just collateral damage. So sad. I’ll be front and center at the memorial, don’t worry. And I’ll be front and center for the work of the investigation, making sure all the pieces fit. And then I will find my wife, Lily.”

The universe seemed to slow around her. The dim parts went dimmer and the light parts brighter, and her head was a hollow bell ringing with her heartbeat and whooshing breath and the faint vibration of Everett’s trembling bones.

Everett. Everett. She had to save him.

The delicate necklace dangled from Mendelson’s gloved hand, and her gaze caught on its faint sway like a deer caught in headlights.

He could promise whatever bargain he liked, but she and Everett weren’t leaving this house alive. Not if Mendelson had any say in it. The town would need answers, and he had them, and he could not let any witnesses live.

Mendelson shoved the coffee table away with his foot, then crouched in front of her, tipping his head again in that eerie way of his. She’d thought him handsome before, but now he looked like a ghoul. Like tan skin stretched over a skull. “So, Lily? Are you ready to make a deal?”

“Yes,” she said, because it was the only choice. A deal for a few more seconds of life and a tiny chance for her son. She tried to swallow, and her dry throat ticked. “The reason Amber stayed the night,” she said, “is because she was waiting for a new ID, and a cash card, and a disposable phone.”

“What was the name on the ID?”

“I don’t know. It was sealed. I just gave her the envelope.” His eyes flashed with fury, so she lied. “But I saw her open it. I think . . . I think it said Jennifer.”

“Jennifer. And the new phone number?”

“I don’t know.”

“Wow. We don’t have a lot to work with here, Lily.”

“Someone left the envelope in my mailbox,” she blurted. “I don’t know who. But we could find out. They would know. They’d know her new name, at least. Someone made it for her.”

“But your friend Zoey arranged that, right? Not you?”

He was going to hurt Zoey. But first he’d hurt Everett. She opened her mouth to speak, but a deep groan of pain emerged. “Please, I . . . I . . .”

Everett had called 911. He asked for help. And he’d left the phone behind. The police didn’t know about this place, but they knew about the storage facility. Her brain fired, spinning and sparking. What did that mean? What could she do?

“My phone!” she yelled.

Mendelson pulled his chin in, frowning. “What about it?”

“Her new number is in my phone!” She settled into the lie, warming to it, letting it drown her with hope. “She called me from the trailer once. Amber. Her back hurt. She was afraid it would get worse on the bus. She needed Tylenol. So her number is there, even though I never called her!”

“You told me ten times you didn’t have it.”

Lily shook her head. “I . . . Like I said, I never called her. I wasn’t thinking. I was just so scared.”

He walked to the window and looked out before pacing back to her. “It’s on your phone. The one that’s back where we started.”

“Yes. Just leave Everett here. Tie him up. Lock him in a bathroom so you know he won’t get out. We’ll go find it.”

He snorted. “You don’t even know where it is.” His gaze slid to Everett like a snail leaving a trail of slime over them. “The boy and I will go. A little adventure, right, son?”

“I can go, Mom,” Everett offered quietly, his voice shaking.

“No. No. You lost it! You said that. But I know that place like the back of my hand. I’ll find it, I swear. I’ve lived and worked there for six years.”

That head tip again, like a lizard studying a beetle. His eyes narrowed, glinting in the dim room. “No. I’ll take the boy. And if the number isn’t on your phone when we find it, I’ll shoot him.”

“No!” she screeched, throwing herself in front of Everett’s body.

“It’s okay, Mom,” he said on a sob. But it wasn’t okay. She couldn’t let Everett get caught in some sort of cross fire between Mendelson and the Herriman police. It had to be her. She angled her whole body in front of him, pressing him back into the couch.

“Take me. I’m begging you. You can be damn sure I’ll find the phone, because I need to keep my child safe. I don’t have an option here. I don’t. You’ll have complete control of me, and I’ll just want to get back to him. You know that’s true.”

He laughed again. “Nah. You want to get me away from him. You want to control me. See the difference?”

She did see the difference, because he was one hundred percent right. She also, through her haze of frantic panic, saw movement in the window, and she had to fight the urge to jerk her head toward it.

What the hell had that been? Had the police somehow found them?

Movement flickered again while she tried to keep her cool. She sat up straight. “You need my thumbprint! To get her number! It’s a fingerprint passcode. You need me with you.” She had to keep talking.