it was. I wish they had kept him on the case. He seemed like a good egg.”
I swallowed hard, barely daring to hope. Talking to this detective could be huge. There seemed reason to believe there was something suspicious about the fire. But why would anyone be targeting Sarah’s family?
Even if Maggie was wrong about what she saw, one fact remained. The fire was the unofficial start of the MILA project. Because without Sarah, Holland wouldn’t have had the basis for his experiments.
Lucas took the card in his hand and read the name out loud. “Edgar Blythe?”
Maggie nodded. “That’s him. A nice-looking man, blond hair, nice brown eyes, though he looked like he could use a good shave. I didn’t get the impression he was married—his dress shirt was too wrinkled.” Then she suddenly leaned toward Lucas, staring at his forehead with pursed lips. “Before you go, I should get you a new bandagefor that cut of yours. It’s looking a little . . . gnarly.”
Lucas reached up and touched it, a look of embarrassment floating across his face. I was a little mortified too. I hadn’t even noticed how old and gray the Band-Aid had become over the last couple days.
“Oh, that’s nice of you. Thanks,” he said.
Maggie turned to me with a shaking finger. “You two better take care of each other, okay? If it’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that bad things can happen, even to the best of people.”
SEVEN
A fter a promising start, the next hour was a disappointment.
We called both the numbers that Maggie gave us from a pay phone outside the local library. The one on Edgar Blythe’s business card was disconnected, and Chloe’s mother’s cell delivered an automated message that said her mailbox was currently full. I suggested to Lucas that we pick up a burner phone, so that we could at least try Daphne again later, but instead he grabbed his laptop from the Caprice and motioned for me to follow him into the building.
A white-and-blue sign above the sliding glass doors bragged: WHERE DETERMINATION MEETS KNOWLEDGE.
Hopefully that came with a money-back guarantee.
The sliding doors slid open with a whisk whisk of moving air. Inside, four middle-aged women juggled toddlers and cell phones while waiting in line to scan their books. A young dad brushed past us toward the exit carrying a beaming little boy who clutched a book about trains. His round baby eyes met mine, and he chortled, releasing the book with one hand to wave.
His innocent little face prompted a new bout of dread, which spilled across my neck and back like a dark, viscous sludge. Beneath the heavy cotton of my sweatshirt, my stomach throbbed.
Could he be in danger? Could this be the place?
I scanned my system for the tiniest hint that another step forward might ignite a storm inside me. But there was nothing, just the sound of my faux heartbeat thumping in my ears. My relief was short-lived when I noticed the security system looming ahead. Did it scan for weapons? If so, we were completely screwed.
Analyzing capabilities . . .
Limited to the detection of registered property leaving the premises without permission.
Lucas glanced at me and noticed my intense interest in the electronic arch we needed to walk through. Casually, he put his hand on the small of my back and escorted me to the welcome desk, where a librarian was perched on a stool, immersed in her work.
No alarms sounded. But I still felt vulnerable here, in Sarah’s town. Even though my appearance had changed, I recognized so many things through Sarah’s memories that I felt like everyone could see right through me. And I didn’t want to hurt anyone here.
“So I was thinking we could try Blythe’s email address, just in case it’s operational. If not, there’s a chance it’s being forwarded to a personal account, which we can try and track down, of course,” Lucas said, leading us around some shelving units toward two unoccupied desks in a back corner.
“Good idea,” I
I swallowed hard, barely daring to hope. Talking to this detective could be huge. There seemed reason to believe there was something suspicious about the fire. But why would anyone be targeting Sarah’s family?
Even if Maggie was wrong about what she saw, one fact remained. The fire was the unofficial start of the MILA project. Because without Sarah, Holland wouldn’t have had the basis for his experiments.
Lucas took the card in his hand and read the name out loud. “Edgar Blythe?”
Maggie nodded. “That’s him. A nice-looking man, blond hair, nice brown eyes, though he looked like he could use a good shave. I didn’t get the impression he was married—his dress shirt was too wrinkled.” Then she suddenly leaned toward Lucas, staring at his forehead with pursed lips. “Before you go, I should get you a new bandagefor that cut of yours. It’s looking a little . . . gnarly.”
Lucas reached up and touched it, a look of embarrassment floating across his face. I was a little mortified too. I hadn’t even noticed how old and gray the Band-Aid had become over the last couple days.
“Oh, that’s nice of you. Thanks,” he said.
Maggie turned to me with a shaking finger. “You two better take care of each other, okay? If it’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that bad things can happen, even to the best of people.”
SEVEN
A fter a promising start, the next hour was a disappointment.
We called both the numbers that Maggie gave us from a pay phone outside the local library. The one on Edgar Blythe’s business card was disconnected, and Chloe’s mother’s cell delivered an automated message that said her mailbox was currently full. I suggested to Lucas that we pick up a burner phone, so that we could at least try Daphne again later, but instead he grabbed his laptop from the Caprice and motioned for me to follow him into the building.
A white-and-blue sign above the sliding glass doors bragged: WHERE DETERMINATION MEETS KNOWLEDGE.
Hopefully that came with a money-back guarantee.
The sliding doors slid open with a whisk whisk of moving air. Inside, four middle-aged women juggled toddlers and cell phones while waiting in line to scan their books. A young dad brushed past us toward the exit carrying a beaming little boy who clutched a book about trains. His round baby eyes met mine, and he chortled, releasing the book with one hand to wave.
His innocent little face prompted a new bout of dread, which spilled across my neck and back like a dark, viscous sludge. Beneath the heavy cotton of my sweatshirt, my stomach throbbed.
Could he be in danger? Could this be the place?
I scanned my system for the tiniest hint that another step forward might ignite a storm inside me. But there was nothing, just the sound of my faux heartbeat thumping in my ears. My relief was short-lived when I noticed the security system looming ahead. Did it scan for weapons? If so, we were completely screwed.
Analyzing capabilities . . .
Limited to the detection of registered property leaving the premises without permission.
Lucas glanced at me and noticed my intense interest in the electronic arch we needed to walk through. Casually, he put his hand on the small of my back and escorted me to the welcome desk, where a librarian was perched on a stool, immersed in her work.
No alarms sounded. But I still felt vulnerable here, in Sarah’s town. Even though my appearance had changed, I recognized so many things through Sarah’s memories that I felt like everyone could see right through me. And I didn’t want to hurt anyone here.
“So I was thinking we could try Blythe’s email address, just in case it’s operational. If not, there’s a chance it’s being forwarded to a personal account, which we can try and track down, of course,” Lucas said, leading us around some shelving units toward two unoccupied desks in a back corner.
“Good idea,” I
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