“I don’t have time to wait for you. You’re on the other goddamned side of the country.”
“I’ll get on the next flight, meet you in Vermont,” he says. “Promise you’ll wait for me, Greer.”
“I will.”
“And whatever you do, donotcall the police,” he says. “If Harris was clever enough to organize this entire thing, he’s probably listening to local scanners. He’ll know if anyone’s been dispatched or if the police there have been told to look for a man matching his description. We want him to think he’s under the radar. Last thing we need is a moving target. He doesn’t know you came home, right?”
He’s on it. He’s a pit bull, spouting directives and trying to stay two steps ahead of this entire situation in real time. He wouldn’t do this if he were guilty, if he had something to do with this.
I have no proof that Harris is with my sister. All I know is he’s gone, his stuff is gone, and he clearly didn’t want me to know.
“No,” I answer.
“He doesn’t know you’re looking for him?”
“No.” I palm my forehead. “Shit.”
“What?”
“His mom. If she talks to him, she’s going to tell him I’m looking for him.”
“Call her back. Tell her it’s absolutely imperative that she not share that with him,” he says. “That could jeopardize everything.”
“I’ll try,” I say, exhaling. Her loyalty isn’t exactly to me these days.
“I’ll text once I book my flight, Greer,” he says, breathy almost, like he’s scrambling around packing a bag. “We’re going to find her. We’re going to bring her home safe, I promise.”
And I believe him.
If he didn’t love my sister, didn’t want to save her, he wouldn’t be hopping on the next plane to Vermont to try to find her with me.
CHAPTER 33
MEREDITH
Three Months Ago
Three times last week.
Four times in the last two days.
“I’m beginning to think you’re following me,” I say to Ronan as I pass him in the cereal aisle at Hawthorne Food Market at two o’clock on a Wednesday.
It’s like he’s everywhere I go lately. Every stoplight. Every gas station. Every random side street. And maybe I’m exaggerating, but when you go from hardly seeing a man to seeing him every other day, it’s tough to disregard.
Ronan smirks, grabbing a box of peanut butter Cap’n Crunch from a middle shelf. I tell myself I’m making this worse than it really is. Anyone who wears a badge around his neck and eats children’s cereal for breakfast is harmless.
“Was about to say the same thing to you,” he says, pushing his cart closer and eyeing the bags of Halloween candy in mine. “You’re everywhere I go lately.”
Checking my watch, I realize I have to leave soon to get Calder and Isabeau from school. “Guess I’ll see you around?”
I chuckle, trying to make light of a bizarre series of events and ignore the strange lump in my throat.
Ronan’s eyes flash, and his smirk fades. “Oh.”
He must realize I’m slighting him.
“I have to get the kids,” I say, pointing toward the checkouts. “Need to get in line early. You know how crazy pickup can be if you don’t get there at a certain time.”