Every Precious Thing

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Erica scowled. Even from down the street, she could tell the house looked dark and unoccupied.

Where was this guy? Maybe they didn’t have the right address.

She glanced back at Logan’s father. “Is this the street or not?”

“I told you. I’m not sure. I don’t do directions well. It could be. I don’t know.”

The poor-old-guy routine was wearing thin. She suspected that the elder Harper knew more than he was saying. Not the most trustworthy family, those Harpers. When she finally secured the girl, she’d have to clean up this mess. The two Harpers would be at the top of the list.

Markle kept their speed at a nice, slow neighborhood level. Most of the houses they passed had lights on, families settling in for the night. In one yard, two kids were playing catch under a particularly bright porch light. Another house had its garage door open, a man inside doing something at a workbench. And farther down the block, past the target house and on the opposite sidewalk, the old man from earlier was out walking again with the guy Erica guessed was his son.

The house Sara and the girl had lived in was three away, then two, then one.

She turned toward it as they drove past, its dark silhouette taunting her.

Then, just as the driveway began to recede behind them, the porch light flicked on.