Missing, Adam Nicholls [book recommendations website txt] 📗
- Author: Adam Nicholls
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The girl nodded. “He told me you were looking for him, and that you’re his biggest problem.”
He stood staring at the floor. It felt different now he’d been acknowledged. Mason imagined the killer targeting Amy, and he sighed. “You got that right.”
Outside the room, Bill was along the corridor on the phone. He spotted Mason and jogged toward him, hanging up. “How fast can you get to Southside Bay?”
“Why, what’s up?”
“We put out a notice about that RV of yours, and a civilian just called in. Says she just saw it outside her home.”
Mason’s heart thundered in his chest, and he picked up speed. “On my way.”
Usually, calls from a neighborhood like this came from some bored, attention-seeking housewives or desperate teenagers, anyone who thought they could turn heads by claiming they saw something they didn’t.
In this case it was a single mother.
The woman who came to the door was a mess: greasy hair matted to her face, stained sweatpants, and too much cheap perfume. Mason empathized with the blue-eyed toddler in her arms.
“Yeah, I seen it,” she said with pride. “A big ol’ thing that parks here every Friday after school. My kids don’t like it too much. They say he creeps ’em out.”
“They’ve seen the owner?” Mason adjusted his stance in the cool air, wishing she’d invite him in. At least the rain had taken a brief break.
“Sure. One day, I was doing my laundry, and my boy Judas came running in screaming like crazy. Said the man whistled him over and asked him to get in, said he’d take him to a place called Mayfairer.”
“What’s Mayfairer?”
“I ain’t got no idea. Could be a cemetery for all I know.”
Mason tried to think of any cemetery-based lullabies. Nothing. “Did you see him?”
“Yeah, I seen him. Got that creep’s picture, too.”
“You got his picture?” This seemed far too good to be true. “Would you mind if I take a look?”
The woman looked as if she’d been asked to perform a miracle. “Hold on.”
While she was gone, Mason stepped back and took a glance at the house. It was a tacky place, stickers on the windows and dog shit on the lawn, though he hadn’t seen or heard a dog while he’d been standing at the door.
The woman returned and handed him a photo printed on a sheet of paper. “Took it with my cell phone and printed it ma-self. You can keep that.”
Mason’s hands shook as he examined the photo. Is this the guy? he wondered. Is this the guy who’s given the San Francisco Police so much trouble? The one who’s given me so much grief? He’d expected someone bigger and older. Maybe someone more intelligent or devious-looking. But this man was small, younger, and looked kind of harmless.
“Thing is,” the woman went on, “I seen him a few times before, too. Seemed to be wherever I went, I’d turn around and see that damn RV. One day, I even mustered the courage to go and bang on his door, fixing to give him a piece of my mind for following me, but… there wasn’t nobody there. So, I waited to follow him, ya know? Make sure he wasn’t up to no good.”
“I see. Good thinking. And what did you find?” Mason encouraged her to speed up her storytelling. Kylie Carter spoke with more clarity than this woman, for God’s sake.
“Well, he ended up at Rigby’s,” she said, like it was supposed to mean something.
“Rigby’s?”
“Uh-huh. Trailer park up the road. It’s where all good trailers go to die.”
Mason snorted a laugh. “Can you point me in the right direction?”
The woman scribbled a messy but readable map on the back of his business card and Mason followed the directions as best he could, excited that he might just get lucky and find a trace of the RV.
Evie had never been so nervous. The house was bigger and better than she remembered it, meaning only that she’d made the right choice all those years ago. She was mentally preparing herself, summoning the nerve to knock on the door.
What the hell was I thinking?
A sudden question of conscience made her turn on her heels and walk away without knocking. She’d made it down three steps before the door clicked open.
“May I help you?”
Evie turned to the voice. It was Mary, the owner of the house and the person she wanted to speak to. She was slightly older than Evie, midforties and a real Oprah type. If Oprah was white, that was.
“I’m sorry.”
Mary’s mouth hung open as she squinted her eyes. “Evelyn? Is that you?” She didn’t look pleased to see her, but why would she? “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know, but it’s important. Can I come in?”
For a moment Mary just stared, looking alarmed. Then she pulled the door open wider and stepped back. “You’d better make this quick. I’m a busy woman.”
“Thank you.” Evie stepped into the house, where everything was cream-colored and polished. “You’ve had a lot of work done.”
“It has been thirteen years.” Mary showed her to the couch. “You said this was important. Is it something I did, or something I can do?”
“It’s neither.” Evie spotted a picture frame but tried not to look at the happy family. “Have you heard about the Lullaby Killer?”
“From the news? Some psycho snatching up children, right?” Mary clasped her hands and couldn’t keep them still. It was a clear-cut sign of discomfort.
“Yes. Well, he has a problem with me.”
Mary sat forward. “And you’re here because…?”
“Because he mentioned Amelia.”
Silence descended around the room. Both women gazed at each other.
“I think you should leave,” Mary said, standing up.
Evie rose with her. “Look, you don’t have to like it, but you need to go somewhere. Take Amelia with you until all of this has blown over. Do you have somewhere you can go?”
Mary looked insulted. “Well, yes, but I don’t see why we sho—”
“If you give a damn about Amelia, there’s every reason why you should.”
“Excuse me? Don’t you come into my house and threaten her. She became my daughter as soon as you signed the papers. You have no right to come back here now and start acting like a concerned mother.”
“It’s not a threat, Mary. I just—”
“Get out. Get out right now, or—”
The front door swung open and a high-spirited teenage girl came tearing through the room. “Hey, Mom,” she said, kissing Mary on the cheek. She stopped and looked at Evie, pausing as if she recognized a part of herself in her features.
“Amelia, this is my… my friend, Evelyn.”
Evie’s heart raced inside her chest. She’d seen Amelia from a distance but never imagined she would ever get to speak with her. She wasn’t even sure if she’d wanted to, until now. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Amelia said, shaking Evie’s hand. “Are you staying for dinner?”
“Evelyn has to go,” Mary intruded.
“Oh, okay. Well, I have homework to do. Nice to meet you, Evelyn.” Amelia took off, heading upstairs to do what most thirteen-year-olds refused to do at all costs.
Evie stood, shocked.
“Please leave. Now. You shouldn’t have come here.” Mary took her by the arm and showed her to the door with more urgency than she should have.
“Wait. Will you take her someplace or not? I need to know.”
Mary opened the door and paused, clenching her jaw. Then, “Fine.”
“Thank you.” Evie breathed a sigh of relief and stepped out onto the porch.
“Don’t set foot on my property again. Ever.” Mary slammed the door, leaving Evie alone in the cold with her heart melted and her head a jumble of thoughts.
At least Amelia would be safe.
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