All the Inside Howling (Hollow Folk #2)(108)

Becca plucked two sheets from the pile. “I don’t think it’s coincidence. I think he’s in Vehpese for personal reasons. I think . . . I think there’s someone else he wants to hurt, and I think I know why. River was adopted. His mother was Willa Lang, but his father wasn’t David. I couldn’t find the name of the biological father. One of the local reporters did an investigative piece on Willa Lang, but by that point, the case had dragged on and wasn’t holding national attention anymore. The article never got picked up by the mainstream outlets, so it just got a single printing in the Hartly Daily Limited.

“The reporter says Willa Lang grew up out west and, according to unnamed friends and neighbors, only moved to the East Coast after her family disowned her for getting pregnant before marriage. I think River blames his mother’s family for forcing her to leave home. I think he blames them for making Willa end up with an abusive drunk like David. I think he wants revenge.” Her eyes were as wide and bright as the moon. “And Vie, I think we need to get back to Vehpese as fast as we can.”

She held out the second page to me. It was a scanned copy of a yearbook page, and the banner at the top read Vehpese High School. In the third row, second to the last, was a pretty girl with strong features that, although not beautiful, were somehow compelling. She looked familiar, and as soon as I saw the name, I knew why. This was Willa Lang, class of 1997. Only her name wasn’t Willa Lang. It was Willa Miller.





“Willa Miller?” I said, furrowing the black letters with my thumbnail. My eyes went up to Becca’s and back to the page. Yes, I could see it. The features that made Austin ruggedly handsome were evident in Willa’s face: the strong chin, the broad cheeks, the firm nose. That was why Willa was attractive instead of beautiful, or pretty, or even cute. I wasn’t sure because of the black and white, but her hair looked blond, or maybe very light brown. “This is—who? Austin’s aunt?”

Becca nodded. “His dad’s sister.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were. Vie, if I’m right, River’s in Vehpese because of the Millers. He must hate them for what they did to his mother. He must want to kill them.”

“Then why hasn’t he?”

“What?”

“I don’t get it. If River really is the killer, if he’s the one who’s been doing all of this, then why hasn’t he killed the Millers already? Why didn’t he start with them? He could have killed them all in a single night and been gone, but he’s been in Vehpese for days. Almost a week, now.”

Becca frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s waiting for something.”

“What?”

“I don’t know, Vie.”

“All right. Let’s call Austin.”

“And tell him what?”

“The truth. He knows about me and my ability. He’ll think it’s weird, but he won’t think I’m crazy.”

Becca dug her phone out of her purse and called. I could hear the ring, even with the phone pressed against her ear. When Austin picked up, my heart did a little jerk at the sound of his voice, like someone had tied a string around it and had given that string a good tug.

“Austin,” Becca said. “Listen—”

“Are you with Vie?”

“Yes, but—”

Click. The call disconnected.

Becca stared at me, jaw hanging down.

“Call him again.”

She did, but this time the call went to voicemail. As did the next call. And the next.

“What do I say?” Becca finally asked.

“Tell him he’s in danger. Tell him his family’s in danger. And tell him to quit being a dick and to call you back.”

Becca transmitted most of that message, but she cleaned up the end. Then, as soon as she had hung up from leaving the voicemail, she started texting. “At least this way he’ll have some warning.”

When she’d finished sending the text, we both sat there, staring at her phone and waiting for Austin to reply. No message came in response, though, and the phone remained silent. I could feel the minutes ticking by, and my initial certainty that Austin was safe, that if River had wanted to kill them, he would have done so already, began to erode.

The real problem was that no matter how I twisted things, none of the pieces fit perfectly. Killing Salerno meant working for Mr. Big Empty, but how did that fit with the Miller family? If River wasn’t there to kill the Millers and had no need to hide the truth about himself, why kill Frankie and DeHaven? If River wanted revenge on the Millers, why wouldn’t he have killed them and left? Why had Mr. Big Empty shown Becca that vision of River’s body? Why had he wanted us to look for River if River were working for him?

I was missing something. Something crucial, something that would explain the seeming inconsistencies.

When the motel door opened, a gust of cold nipped at my bare feet. Emmett, bundled in his coat, stared at both of us as he came into the room. “I guess I’m still in the doghouse.” He shook back his hood. “Grab your stuff. I’ve got a car downstairs.”

“You got a car?” I said.

“Turns out not every vehicle in Denver has already been rented. Just most of them.”

“We need to call Austin. He already hung up on Becca.”