to talk,” Wash said.
“That’s because I was homeless,” she retorted. TK wasn’t ashamed of her past; she saw it as a failing of society when a decorated veteran working two jobs couldn’t pay for a roof over her head, not a failing of her own. “Sarah has a home. Only it sure as hell doesn’t feel like one.”
“So you and Tommy didn’t find anything.”
“Not a takeout menu, no pizza coupons, not even a fridge magnet. Only thing in her trash was the receipt Tommy sent to Wash.”
“Yeah, about that…”
Lucy turned to the analyst. “What?”
“Well, I’m not sure if it means anything. The receipt is from the same Sheetz Tommy’s wife was last seen at. I mean, I know it’s a year apart, but isn’t that kind of weird?”
TK stretched her legs out and crossed them at the ankles. “I doubt it. That stretch of highway, your choices are limited. Sheetz or keep going to the interstate with that skeevy truck stop. If you’re a woman, you always go for Sheetz.”
“Cleanest restrooms around,” Lucy explained. “TK’s right. I’ve been there myself.”
“Okay, so just a freaky, small-world thing.” Wash shrugged and cleared his screen. “Then we’ve officially got nothing.”
He and TK looked to Lucy as if expecting her to conjure a woman’s life from thin air. “Not nothing,” Lucy said. “We have a vulnerable victim who is a potential target.”
“And who would have no idea if she came face to face with her stalker.” TK shuddered. “I can not even imagine being that powerless.”
“Thoughts on the best way to protect her while we keep running the databases and track down any family?”
“What about having her bunk here?” TK said. “If it’s okay with Valencia. I’ll crash now, pull guard duty tonight.”
“Guard duty?” Wash sounded alarmed. “You really think someone could track her back here? And get through Valencia’s security?”
“The police put her out there on every screen in the area with the public service announcements before Burroughs canceled them,” Lucy answered. “Anyone looking for Sarah knows she’s working with us, that she has no clue who’s stalking her. What better time to strike?”
Chapter 16
TOMMY ROLLED THE tiny ballerina over in his palm, still protected from his flesh by the maple leaf. Sarah was right: there was no way to be certain it was Charlotte’s charm. Hell, he couldn’t even be one hundred percent certain it was the same size and pose as Charlotte’s dancing girl. Had she had both her arms up like this one? Or had one been stretched out and the other curved into the air?
He blinked back his confusion. A year was simply too long for a man’s mind not to lose grasp of essential bits and pieces. It was hard enough to keep hold of Charlotte’s laugh, the special sly smile she had for him when they were alone in bed, the way her hands and feet were always moving, dancing to invisible music…
“What should we do?” Sarah asked.
“I don’t know.” He shoved the charm, leaf and all, into his jacket pocket and stood. “Keep following your trail, I guess.”
She kept hold of the camera—a good thing, the way his hands were trembling—and led the way. They both moved more slowly now, searching for… what? If he didn’t know, how could she?
They entered a tunnel formed by centuries-old mountain laurel. Dark foliage and intertwined branches created the walls and roof, and thousands of pale flowers hung from stems, like stars showered across the night sky. The air was still here, noise muffled as if they stood apart from the rest of the world. Sheltered.
Sarah stopped in the middle of the tunnel to look around, both through her camera and her eyes. “It’s so beautiful. How could I have forgotten this?”
Tommy could only nod; he didn’t trust his voice. All he could think was how much Charlotte would love this place.
“I’m sorry.” Sarah turned to him, touching his arm. She did that
“That’s because I was homeless,” she retorted. TK wasn’t ashamed of her past; she saw it as a failing of society when a decorated veteran working two jobs couldn’t pay for a roof over her head, not a failing of her own. “Sarah has a home. Only it sure as hell doesn’t feel like one.”
“So you and Tommy didn’t find anything.”
“Not a takeout menu, no pizza coupons, not even a fridge magnet. Only thing in her trash was the receipt Tommy sent to Wash.”
“Yeah, about that…”
Lucy turned to the analyst. “What?”
“Well, I’m not sure if it means anything. The receipt is from the same Sheetz Tommy’s wife was last seen at. I mean, I know it’s a year apart, but isn’t that kind of weird?”
TK stretched her legs out and crossed them at the ankles. “I doubt it. That stretch of highway, your choices are limited. Sheetz or keep going to the interstate with that skeevy truck stop. If you’re a woman, you always go for Sheetz.”
“Cleanest restrooms around,” Lucy explained. “TK’s right. I’ve been there myself.”
“Okay, so just a freaky, small-world thing.” Wash shrugged and cleared his screen. “Then we’ve officially got nothing.”
He and TK looked to Lucy as if expecting her to conjure a woman’s life from thin air. “Not nothing,” Lucy said. “We have a vulnerable victim who is a potential target.”
“And who would have no idea if she came face to face with her stalker.” TK shuddered. “I can not even imagine being that powerless.”
“Thoughts on the best way to protect her while we keep running the databases and track down any family?”
“What about having her bunk here?” TK said. “If it’s okay with Valencia. I’ll crash now, pull guard duty tonight.”
“Guard duty?” Wash sounded alarmed. “You really think someone could track her back here? And get through Valencia’s security?”
“The police put her out there on every screen in the area with the public service announcements before Burroughs canceled them,” Lucy answered. “Anyone looking for Sarah knows she’s working with us, that she has no clue who’s stalking her. What better time to strike?”
Chapter 16
TOMMY ROLLED THE tiny ballerina over in his palm, still protected from his flesh by the maple leaf. Sarah was right: there was no way to be certain it was Charlotte’s charm. Hell, he couldn’t even be one hundred percent certain it was the same size and pose as Charlotte’s dancing girl. Had she had both her arms up like this one? Or had one been stretched out and the other curved into the air?
He blinked back his confusion. A year was simply too long for a man’s mind not to lose grasp of essential bits and pieces. It was hard enough to keep hold of Charlotte’s laugh, the special sly smile she had for him when they were alone in bed, the way her hands and feet were always moving, dancing to invisible music…
“What should we do?” Sarah asked.
“I don’t know.” He shoved the charm, leaf and all, into his jacket pocket and stood. “Keep following your trail, I guess.”
She kept hold of the camera—a good thing, the way his hands were trembling—and led the way. They both moved more slowly now, searching for… what? If he didn’t know, how could she?
They entered a tunnel formed by centuries-old mountain laurel. Dark foliage and intertwined branches created the walls and roof, and thousands of pale flowers hung from stems, like stars showered across the night sky. The air was still here, noise muffled as if they stood apart from the rest of the world. Sheltered.
Sarah stopped in the middle of the tunnel to look around, both through her camera and her eyes. “It’s so beautiful. How could I have forgotten this?”
Tommy could only nod; he didn’t trust his voice. All he could think was how much Charlotte would love this place.
“I’m sorry.” Sarah turned to him, touching his arm. She did that
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