Page 53 of The Fall Back Plan
“I’m good. Be there in a minute.” I grab some joggers from my dresser and pull on a Duke sweatshirt. It’s just Lucas; it shouldn’t matter anyway.
I walk into the kitchen with an outstretched hand. “Coffee me.”
Lucas does, and we sit in silence, each on a stool, drinking. It’s an easy silence, and I appreciate that he remembers I need caffeine in my system before I’m fully sentient. Once it hits my bloodstream, I set the coffee down and look at the white pastry bag. There’s also a file folder sitting near it.
I nod at the bag. “That has grease spots on it.”
“Just makes you want it more, doesn’t it?” he says.
“Yes. Please feed me.”
He smiles over the rim of his coffee cup and pushes the bag toward me.
I open it to find an apple turnover. “Yesss.”
“It’s from Book Smart. The owner bakes them. Have you had a chance to try them yet?”
I shake my head. I’ve popped in to browse the books, but I haven’t tried her café counter.
“You’ll like it,” he says.
A bite confirms his wisdom and judgment, which I tell him. “But don’t let it go to your head,” I add. “I’m just talking about pastries.”
He chokes and spits a little bit of coffee, a few drops landing on me as he grabs for a paper napkin to wipe his mouth and the counter. “Sorry about that.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I heard something besides pastries at first.”
I squinch my eyes at him, trying to figure that one out. Then it hits me. “Lucas! You thought I said ‘pasties’?”
“Only for as long as it took me to choke on my coffee.” He keeps his eyes on his cup, and I resist the urge to fold my arms over my chest.
We fall into an awkward silence.
“So I—”
“Did you—” we both say at the same time.
“Sorry, go ahead,” he says.
“Did you bring the case stuff over?” I ask, nodding at the folder. “I’m awake enough to dig into it now.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Before we dive in, though, I need—”
“Is this where you tell me this is confidential and not to run my mouth about it?”
He nods.
“I got it. Lay it out for me?”
He walks around to stand across the island from me and pulls a paper from the folder, setting it down so it’s facing me, upside down to him.
“This is a map of everywhere the dolls have been found so far. There have been eight.”
Eight houses in one area have red circles drawn around them. “They’re all in two neighborhoods.”
He nods. “Makes sense that the Doll Creeper would know the kids in a single area by sight well enough to match them to dolls. This is where a lot of younger families live. In most cases, the girls receiving them are the oldest child or at least the oldest girl.”
