Page 73 of Vanish From Sight
“I gave her a number for a dog,” Ethan said.
Noah turned abruptly and looked up the staircase. “What?”
“Mom. When I spoke to her yesterday on the phone.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Mia asked angrily.
“I… I just thought of it now.”
“Ethan. What number?” Noah asked with urgency in his tone.
“It was on a flyer,” Aiden said with his hand on the door handle to go out. “They’re posted around town. Ethan saw one. I put him on the phone with Lena. He’s been asking for a dog for a while. But I didn’t hear him give her that, otherwise I would have told you.”
“The number. Did you keep it?”
“No, I tossed it. But I can show you where the flyer is,” Ethan said, hurrying down the stairs.
“All right. Let’s go,” Noah said, clapping his hands together. His kids wanted to go with him which allowed Aiden to follow, after which he would take them home. It was clear he was as worried as the rest of them. Although Noah didn’t want to go there in his mind, he couldn’t help but ask his kids once they were in the car.
“Mia. Have you noticed any changes in Aiden?”
“None.”
“And mom?” he asked, reversing out.
“A little. Nothing that stands out. I heard them arguing the other night. Mostly mom saying that she was having second thoughts. Aiden said it was normal to have cold feet and to second-guess since she was married before.”
“He never touched her, did he?”
“No. He’s not like that, Dad.”
The Bronco sped through the streets, curling around the winding road back into town until they reached the ice cream parlor. Ethan was out the door before he even put it in park. He rushed into the store just as they were getting ready to close up for the evening. “It’s right up…” Ethan stopped, his gaze zigzagging a board on the wall. “It was here. It was right here.”
“Are you sure?”
Aiden appeared behind them. “It was there. He’s right.”
Noah turned to one of two youngsters who were manning the store that evening. “The flyer for dogs. Where’s it gone?”
They shrugged.
“Maybe someone took it if it was the last one,” Aiden added.
Noah had seen those types of flyers selling goods over the years. Someone would take an 8 x 11 sheet of paper, print a photo of whatever item they were looking to sell on it, add their advertisement and price, cut ten or twenty times at the bottom and write a phone number on each strip so those interested could rip off the number. Mia checked the trash. It was full of half-eaten ice creams and wet napkins.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Do you know the people who put up the flyer?” Noah asked.
A teenager behind the counter replied, “No. Anyone can leave an ad there. It changes from day to day.”
Noah looked around the room and noticed two small cameras. “Those working?”
“Yeah.”
“How long do you keep a recording?”
“A week.”
