First Girl Gone(103)

She raced up to the vehicle. Opened the door. Slid the keys into the ignition.

The dome light came on, and she was thankful for that. The battery was still getting juice to the thing.

She tapped the screen in the center of the dashboard. Fingers flicking and pressing buttons. She picked her way to the GPS history. Scrolled through it. Skimming. Skimming.

There. A frequently visited location called “Ritter Custom Installations WH.” Charlie thought WH likely stood for warehouse. A storage building for Todd’s dock installation business. He’d been out there almost every day until two days ago, sometimes more than once a day.

She selected it. Eyeballed the little map the GPS screen kicked out. It was less than a mile, in a row of old industrial buildings that butted up to the back of the amusement park. Close enough to reach on foot.

A muffled noise caught her attention. The faintest thump.

She stopped. Held her breath. Listened.

Nothing.

Just her imagination, she thought.

She spotted Todd’s keys nestled in one of the cupholders in the center console. Her fingers snaked into the opening and snatched the keychain. It was heavy, weighed down with over a dozen different keys.

Charlie took a breath and rushed into the darkness once more.





Chapter Ninety-One





Charlie’s heart beat faster as she entered the narrow hall inside the warehouse, climbed down a few steps, and found another locked steel door. Heavy. Exterior quality.

This would be it. It had to be it.

She lifted the keys, hands and arms trembling badly now. The keys were labeled in true Todd Ritter style, but she had yet to figure out his code. There was a key named “Warehouse” but the one that actually opened the door out front had been called “Side door.” It took her shaking fingers a couple of tries to pick out one of the keys and start the process of trial and error.

She listened as she worked, but she didn’t hear anything inside. No voices. No stirring. Nothing at all.

And that silence dug at her as the seconds passed. Deeper and deeper.

What if… but no. Don’t think now. Just do.

On her thirteenth try of the mess of keys on Todd’s keychain, the deadbolt snicked out of the way. Unlocked.

She half-noticed that this key was labeled “Storage.”

All of life snapped into slow motion again. Slower than the fight with Todd, she thought. Slower, even, than Allie’s funeral.

She could hear her pulse in her neck. Wet knocking that seemed to echo in her ears.

Charlie shoved the big steel door. It scraped out of the frame, hinges squealing in the quiet. The keys jangled where they still hung from the deadbolt.

She watched as the door opened in increments. A wedge of pale light crawled over the cement floor of the room beyond, the glow from the floodlights outside spilling in from the glass blocks in the hall.

She swallowed. Felt a lump shift in her throat. Everything in her neck felt tight and dry.

The silence bloomed. Spreading. Growing. A deadness in the room before her. Her skin contracted as she stared into the dark there. Tighter across her chest, along her back.

Too quiet. It was too damn quiet in here.

She could already feel the tears bulging in the corners of her eyes. The salty water ready to spill.

She lifted the flashlight. Swept its shine across the room. Slow. Left to right.

Boxes filled in shelves everywhere. Stacked almost to the ceiling.

Spools of some industrial-looking materials huddled in the far-left corner—wire in various gauges and something that looked like heavy outdoor canvas.

The light crept over these things. Flitting up and down to illuminate each detail before moving on to the next.

Charlie squinted as though she were trying to peer through the cardboard, through the steel shelves.

When she’d gotten to about halfway through the room, the light started shaking.

She stopped sweeping the light. Paused her scan of the room. Tried to steady the involuntary movement of her arm.

The muscles fought her. Twitched harder.

And the negative thoughts pounced on the moment of weakness. Clawed at the vulnerability.

Because what if the girl isn’t here?

What if I sweep this light all the way and there is nothing? No one?

Or worse.

What if I’m too late?

She swallowed again. Closed her eyes for a second.

Breathe. Focus.

The breath rolled in and out of her now. Steady.

It was time to find out the truth, for better or worse.

She opened her eyes.

The light held strong now. She guided it the rest of the way.

Shined it right into the face of the girl in the far-right corner.

Kara Dawkins didn’t move. Didn’t blink. She just sat there. Slumped against the wall.

Eyes open wide. Staring at nothing. Glittering where the flashlight’s beam touched them.

Purple bags formed semicircles beneath those eyes. Puffy and dark.

And Charlie could see, too, that her right wrist was held up. Frozen there above her head, dirt crusted around it. Cuffed to a pipe.

Charlie gasped at the sight. Shuffled back a few steps. Out of the doorway. Into the hall.

Her skin crawled when she thought about how similar Kara’s pose looked to Todd’s just now. Some strange symmetry there.

It was all wrong.