"Duane’s got a firearm and a drinking problem. And trust me, I’ve seen my share of guys like that. We should fall back to the hotel, grab some food, and reassess our situation. Then we can come up with a solid plan for tomorrow."
"But—"
"I agree, he’s probably hiding something. But going there now just doesn’t make sense. We need to regroup and come up with a plan if we’re going to find Amanda." He looked at my face, which said it all, then quickly added, "And Lucas."
I turned to Nick, expecting him to back me up, but to my surprise, he remained neutral.
"We might not get another chance to talk to him," I pleaded. "He was pretty agitated when we met him, and I got the sense he was spooked, too."
Mitchell folded his arms. He wasn’t going to budge on this. "I’ve never met a drunk who’s sober on the weekend. We’ll have better luck tomorrow."
I could have screamed when Nick gave that poor excuse his silent approval.
With only a couple of days left before I faced my mother’s scathing criticism in Ohio, my anger and frustration were simmering just below the surface. Mitch’s condescending attitude was adding fuel to the fire. Who was he to tell me what to do? His military experience and tough-guy act no longer impressed me, not after a few days with him, and especially not after today. I knew he was just as lost as I was, but he was too proud to admit it. I was convinced that’s why he’d shut me down. He was buying himself time.
Lucas, obsessed with football, would often geek out over various strategies when I’d join him in watching games. He loved explaining things, and I, head over heels in love, indulged him and pretended to be interested. He told me about situationswhere a receiver has to make a play when the quarterback is scrambling and throws the ball up for grabs, and the receiver must ditch the original play and make something happen on their own. That’s how I felt, like I needed to seize the initiative. Facts were up in the air, dangling before us like carrots ripe for the taking, and yet we were hesitating.
It was time to take matters into my own hands and do what I thought was right.
16
Chapter Sixteen
September, 2020
Mitchell had insistedon daily debriefs, where we shared every detail of our day, no matter how small. So, we gathered in the unit June and I shared to go over everything that had happened.
In his notebook, he jotted down bullet-pointed lists of what we’d learned and carefully marked the places we’d visited on the map. He stayed fully engaged, speaking with steady focus while the rest of us struggled to stay alert. I could tell he was pushing through, trying to recover from his outburst and prove he still had value. But honestly, I just wished he’d let us go to bed.
Weariness settled over the room like a thick blanket. Nick looked completely checked out. His vacant stare gnawed at my nerves, and I couldn’t help but wonder if his mind was still on the odd woman from the store.Tilly.
"So, assuming Amanda did go to the cemetery, where does that lead us?" Mitchell spoke aloud, thinking.
I sat up straighter, hoping I would sound more authoritative. "Sammy saw the same symbol Amanda had photographed."
"Not exactly," Nick corrected. "He mentioned seeing some symbols, but we didn’t get a chance to show him Amanda’s photo before the Reverend kicked us out."
"Then we should find him again. And Duane?—"
June’s eyes narrowed. "That Reverend is shady. I think he lied about seeing that kid. He knows him."
Mitchell’s expression turned wistful. "Mama used to say, ‘Liars, cheaters, and thieves—’" He trailed off, his hand brushing across his face as if wiping away the memory.
June’s lips curled into a nostalgic smile. "Yeah, she did."
The page in his notebook was titled "Amanda, Cemetery." I wanted to confront Mitch about how I felt, about how he was neglecting Lucas in our search, but the last thing I needed was an argument. I was too emotionally drained.
Or at least, that’s what I told myself.
Back in our room,June was glued to her phone. I sat on the bed, a decision brewing. The ‘good girl’ in me urged caution, suggesting I wait till tomorrow to approach Duane. After all, we were supposed to maintain the buddy system and confronting a madman with a gun was dangerous. Another part of me, the feral creature I squirmed to contain, snarled that enough was enough. It was time to take matters into my own hands.
Every detail from our encounters that day seemed off. The magic shop owner, the cemetery, the church, the little boy, the photograph. So disconnected. They were like loose threads, refusing to weave into a coherent tapestry.
I knew Duane held the key to unraveling this mess. Something had been going on between him and Lucas. And that’s why I needed to talk to Duanealone.
I walked towards the door. June didn’t look up from her phone when she asked in a sing-song voice, "Where are you going?"
"To get some air. I’ll be right back."