Page 124 of Evil Bones
Unaware that those very real tunnels would soon upend my life.
CHAPTER 28
As a precaution, I’d texted Slidell, briefly describing the contents of the thumb drive. I received no reply. Which did little to allay my concern.
I also heard nothing further from Katy. Hoped that meant all was calm on the Ruthie front.
The next morning, I woke jumpy as hell and unsure why. Noticing my agitation, Ryan suggested an outing involving physical activity. Despite the heat, we spent the day biking the Blue Line Rail Trail through the city.
Every couple of hours I stopped to give Katy a call. Got no answer and assumed she and Ruthie had gone off on one of their adventures.
That evening, exhausted from pedaling the eleven-mile route, Ryan and I opted for takeout sushi at home followed by an old black-and-white film.
It was Ryan’s turn to pick and, predictably, he chose a western,My Darling Clementine. Though the genre isn’t my favorite, Henry Fonda as Wyatt Earp was proving worth the watch.
A watch that was constantly interrupted.
The opening credits had barely faded when Katy phoned to ask if Ruthie was with me. Or if I’d heard from her.
My response was a double no.
She called again at nine. At nine-thirty.
I gave the same answer both times, with growing unease in my voice. Katy assured me that all was copacetic, probably just a crossing of wires.
Earp was heading for the big shoot-out at the corral when Katy rang again, now obviously distressed. Ruthie remained whereabouts unknown. She hadn’t called and wasn’t answering her mobile. Her voice mailbox was full and accepting no messages.
Seriously worried now, I advised my daughter to check Ruthie’s room for contact information, then use what she found to phone the kid’s friends. Katy was appalled at the idea of such an invasion of privacy.
Twenty minutes later she reported that the only numbers she’d scored were for Lester Meloy and Danielle Hall. She’d tried both. Neither had answered.
By midnight Katy was distraught and wanted to alert the cops. Her uncharacteristic anxiety goosed my apprehension to the level of real fear. I kept thinking about the thumb drive. About the home intrusion. About Ruthie being only seventeen.
About a serial killer on the loose.
Picking up on my vibe, not to mention all the phone calls, Ryan insisted on a full explanation. Which I belatedly provided.
When I finished, he chastised me for not confiding in him from the outset. Big surprise. Then he suggested we offer to search the neighborhood around the Annex on the odd chance Ruthie had headed our way. Katy accepted, with far too much emotion. Said she was working the streets near her town house.
Praying that we were all overreacting, I dug two flashlights from the pantry and checked that their batteries and bulbs were functioning. One lit up bright and eager. The other came on but looked a bit iffy.
Handing the good flash to Ryan, I grabbed my keys from the kitchen counter and we left the Annex. Birdie watched, astounded at the unusual wee-hours departure. Maybe.
Outside on the driveway, Ryan proposed we split up to double our impact. I could cruise in my car while he searched on foot.
Searched for what? A dropped purse? A lost shoe? A body?
Surely not that.
I agreed to Ryan’s plan, but with the roles reversed. He rejected that idea. I argued that I was familiar with the sidewalks and yards in my hood and could better spot anything that seemed amiss. Reluctantly, he conceded the logic in that.
The night was velvety soft, the air alive with the efforts of millions of crickets. From far off on Queens Road, muted traffic sounds added to the closing-days-of-summer sonata.
Trudging down the circle drive, I was hyperaware of the total blackness enveloping the grounds of Sharon Hall. While the aesthetic parts of my brain are all in for quiet and quaint, the more practical portions question the wisdom of an HOA ban on any exterior light having more wattage than a smartwatch face.
I’d gone only a few yards when I heard an engine turn over at my back. Seconds later, headlights sliced through the darkness surrounding me.
Moving to the edge of the drive, I watched Ryan pass, then slowly descend. A brief pause at the bottom of the slope, then he turned right and disappeared up the street.
