The Boy from the Woods(37)

“And specifically?”

“Nothing comes to mind.”

Gavin didn’t believe him.

“Just keep an eye on them for a few more weeks. Then this will all be over.”





CHAPTER

FIFTEEN



When Bernard Pine unlocked his front door, Wilde didn’t wait for permission. He headed straight for the staircase.

“Hold up, where do you think you’re going?”

Wilde didn’t reply. He started up the steps. Bernard Pine fell in behind him. That was fine. Wilde entered Naomi’s bedroom and flicked on the lights.

“What are you looking for?” Pine asked.

“You want my help, right?”

“Yes.”

Wilde stared at Naomi’s bed, at all the stuffed animals on it. “Does Naomi have a favorite?”

“A favorite what?”

“Stuffed animal.”

“How would I know?”

Wilde opened the closet and checked the shelf.

“Her backpack,” he said to Pine.

“What?”

“When I was here last time—”

“Wait, when the hell were you in my daughter’s bedroom?”

Did Wilde want to go into it? Judging by the look of bafflement and perhaps even hostility sneaking onto Pine’s face, he probably had to. “The day you and I met.”

“But I saw you in the basement.”

“And before that, I was in the bedroom.”

“With my daughter?”

“What? No. Alone. You know that. She was in the basement.”

Pine shook his head, as though trying to clear it. “I don’t understand. How did you get in her bedroom?”

“That’s not really important right now. What is important is that Naomi’s backpack is missing.”

Wilde pointed to the shelf. Pine followed the gesture, saw the empty shelf, and shrugged. “It’s probably at her school. In her locker. I saw her take it lots of times. Every day, in fact.”

“What color backpack?”

“Black, I think. Maybe dark blue.”

“I’m talking about the pink one she kept on this shelf.”

Again Pine looked baffled. “How would you know…you looked in her closet?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Wilde tried to keep the impatience out of his tone. “Because I was looking for her. Like now.”

“I don’t know anything about a pink backpack.”

Wilde gave the closet a more thorough look. The pink Fj?llr?ven K?nken backpack he’d seen on that shelf was definitely gone. He also checked the hangers. Last time he’d been in this room, all the hangers had been taken. He counted four empty ones now. Three more hangers lay scattered on the floor, as though she’d ripped the clothes off those hangers quickly.

Obvious conclusion: She packed clothes into that pink backpack.

Wilde shifted his gaze back to the bed and the stuffed animals. He closed his eyes for a second, tried to recall what the bed looked like last time he was here, hoping that he’d be able to tell if any were missing. But it was pointless. If one or more of them were missing, it might confirm the fact that Naomi intentionally ran. But did he need that extra proof?

“She ran away,” Wilde said to him.

“You can’t know that.”

“Mr. Pine?”

“I’d prefer it if you called me Bernie.”

“What aren’t you telling me, Bernie?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You know more than you’re saying.”

He started rubbing his chin. Wilde tried to read him. Nothing was coming through clearly. Was he a loving albeit distracted father? Or was there something more? There was definitely a quality in the man he didn’t trust. Was Bernard Pine a danger or was Wilde just being his usual cynical self?

Then: “Naomi sent me this text yesterday.”

Pine handed Wilde his phone. The message was two short sentences:

Don’t worry. I’m safe.



“I know what you’re thinking,” Pine said.

Not much question about it now. Backpack and clothes gone. No signs or hints of any abduction. No ransom or demands or anything like that. Now throw in the other factors—the heightened bullying, her past history of running off, the failed Challenge game.

The conclusion was obvious.

“There’s something else you should know,” Pine said.

Wilde looked at him.

“Someone hurt her.” His eyes were wet now. “And I’m not talking about the usual bullying.”

“What are you talking about then?”

“Physically.”

The room went still.

“You better explain,” Wilde said.

It took him a little time to gather himself. Pine stared down at his hand. He had a school ring with a garnet stone. He started twisting it around his finger. “When I came home from work the day before she disappeared, Naomi had a frozen bag of peas on her right eye. It was black the next morning.”

“Did you ask her about it?”

“Of course.”

Wilde waited. Bernard Pine started biting hard on his thumbnail.