First Girl Gone(36)

At last, Zoe shrugged and clicked off her flashlight.

“So what do you think of all of this?” Charlie asked.

“Probably a small-time drug dealer. You said he seemed young, and this whole chase, running from a civilian vehicle like this… It just strikes me as… someone who lacks experience, I guess.”

Charlie nodded, hesitated a moment before asking the question she really wanted to ask.

“You think this has anything to do with the Kara Dawkins case?”

Zoe frowned at that.

“It could, but I really hope not. At this point, it’s better for everyone if Kara ran away, you know? That’s the best-case scenario, I guess you could say. If that’s the truth, I figure we’ll hear that she’s turned up within the next day or two. If not…”

They went quiet and stared into the darkness.





Chapter Twenty-Five





By the time Charlie got back to her apartment that night, she was exhausted. And frustrated. There’d been the epic fail at the club, and then she’d let the mystery driver of the stolen black SUV get away. She’d been close to something tonight. Close to finally untangling some of this Kara Dawkins mess. But it had slipped through her fingers.

She brushed her teeth and washed her face, then climbed into bed. Despite how tired she felt, she lay awake for some time, staring up at the ceiling.

A long crack in the plaster ran from the light fixture in the center of the room to one corner. It reminded her of her childhood bedroom. A patched spot scarred the wall across from their beds, and Allie always claimed it looked like Homer Simpson. Charlie couldn’t see it.

So one day, Allie took a permanent marker and filled in the details. The eyes, the nose and mouth, the squiggle of hair. Allie had been right. It did look like Homer Simpson. Their mother had been decidedly less impressed with Allie’s artistic vision.

When sleep finally came, Charlie dreamed she was back in the woods. Allie ran alongside her this time, her pale face glowing against the darkness like a crescent moon. The woods rolled on and on, an endless black sprawl.

A strange burbling sound bled into the dream. Rhythmic. Like the sound of music from underwater.

Not music, though.

A ringtone.

Her phone.

Charlie shook herself awake, blinking up at the cracked white plaster. It was lighter in the room now, the morning sun beginning to filter in through the blinds. If anyone was calling this early, it’d be Zoe. Had they identified the driver already?

Squeezing her eyes shut against the light, she answered the phone with a voice command.

“Hello?”

“Is this Charlotte Winters?”

The voice was female, but it wasn’t Zoe.

Charlie sat up and grappled for the phone. The number on the screen wasn’t one she recognized.

“It is.”

“Of A1 Investigations?”

“Yes.” She propped herself up on one elbow, wondering what this was all about.

“You put these fliers up all over town?”

She heard the distinct rustle of paper over the line. The Kara fliers. Charlie sat up fully.

“Yeah, that’s me. You have information? About Kara Dawkins?”

“Who? I… no. No, I don’t. I’m calling about my daughter.”

Charlie blinked and rubbed at the corner of her eyelid. It was too early for her to try to make sense of this on her own.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

After a pause, the woman said, “My daughter… she’s missing, too.”





Chapter Twenty-Six





The second missing girl’s name was Amber Spadafore. She was twenty, a Salem Island native who was now a nursing major at Michigan State.

Charlie headed to the office early to meet with the family. While she waited, she prowled through Amber’s various online profiles, the same way she’d done with Kara’s that first day.

There was a sudden commotion outside, a woman’s sharp voice. Charlie looked up from the computer screen to find a cluster of people standing just outside the front door of the office. She couldn’t hear what the woman was saying, but it was clear by her tone that she was upset. She spun around and grasped for the door, yanking it open.

The woman’s face went from scowl to phony smile in the blink of an eye as she came through the door, followed by three men.

“Does she travel with an entourage? Or is this her harem?” Allie asked.

“Are you Charlotte? The one I spoke with on the phone?”

“That’s me,” Charlie said. “You’re Amber’s mother?”

“I am.” The woman put her hand out. “Sharon Ritter.”

Charlie took her hand and shook it briefly. She was the kind of woman who made Charlie feel like she was a grubby little kid and not an actual adult. Perfectly manicured nails. Makeup applied to complement her natural features. Hair styled but not overly so. She wore a gold necklace with an ornate key-shaped pendant studded with diamonds.

Pausing to take in her surroundings, the woman’s eyes searched the room. Charlie couldn’t help but imagining she was silently judging all of it: the shabby carpet, the ancient second-hand office furniture.

Sharon gestured to the man beside her, who stepped forward to shake.