Page 310 of Hide and Keep

The only thing out of place is Crue 2.0. He’s missing.

That bear.

I check the newspaper again, scanning the article for the ceremony details. Today. Nantucket. Church.

Time.

Time.

Time.

Got it.Eleven a.m., with reception to follow.

It’s eight thirty now. It’ll take me at least two and a half hours to drive to the port, another hour on the ferry out to the island. I won’t make it in time.

I won’t fucking make it!

I crumple the newspaper up and throw it at the wall. It lands without a sound on the floor, so I kick it.

She was here. She was mine. Then, she disappeared right out of my fucking hands. Gone. Taken. Again. Just like in the corn maze.

How was she taken? Arthur’s a fucking liar and has a helicopter somewhere. If that’s how he picked Ever up at Hide and Keep, I’m willing to bet he used it this time, too.

If he can fly to Nantucket, so can I. I have over a million fucking dollars at my disposal.

I’m gonna make it.

Keeping my head low, I part from the helicopter I chartered to fly me here. I’ve never been on Nantucket, so I don’t have the first clue where the fuck I’m going but I got an address and enough cash to get me there fast.

Right outside the tiny airport is a lane just for taxis. But it’s empty. Every person getting picked up curbside is with family it looks like. No impersonal hired drivers awkwardly taking their luggage from them to throw it in the trunk.

Goddamn it.

I see a sign for car rentals and sprint over to the customer service counter, which only has three people waiting. With one representative though, it might take forever to get through the line.

“Excuse me, this is an emergency!” I announce. “Would anyone mind letting me cut in front of them?”

The last person in line shrugs, and says, “Sure. You can go ahead of me.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, stepping in front of them.

Two people. Two fucking people I still have to wait on.

It takes way longer than it should for me to get to the counter for my turn, and by the time I do, I’m sweating profusely, and not because of the temperature.

“I need a car. Any car. Right now.”

“Okay, do you have a preference on—”

“Zero preferences. I will literally take any car you have available right this second. It’s an emergency.”

“Oh, gosh. I hope everything’s okay,” the attendant says while typing at a snail’s pace.

“It’s not,” I tell her, hoping that speeds things up.

Apparently, she’s a liar, too, and does not hope everything’s okay because if she did, she wouldn’t continue with the same exact lack of urgency as she did with the previous two customers.

Seventeen excruciating minutes later, I’m out the door, running to a blue Mini Cooper. Who the fuck’s renting Mini Coopers?

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