The Missing

Chapter 48

Darby stared out at puddles in what used to be her mother's garden, where Sheila spent her time before she got sick. As she smoked, she thought about Traveler's victims. Evan Manning said Traveler had selected them at random. If that was true, then it would be difficult to catch him. It was going to be difficult to catch him anyway, Traveler having thought through all the options, going to great lengths so he wouldn't be found. Maybe he had already killed Carol and the others. Maybe he was driving away right now. No, don't think about that.

A copy of every work email was automatically forwarded to her Hotmail account so she could access information from the road. Darby put out her cigarette and went inside, heading upstairs to check her computer. There was a message from Mary Beth regarding the crime scene photographs.

Mary Beth always took two sets of photographs – one using film, the other digital. Digital pictures were not admissible as evidence because they could be doctored. Mary Beth always took them so investigators had copies for their files.

Darby was in the process of reviewing them when she heard coughing. She poked her head out into the hallway and saw the thin crack of light at the bottom of her mother's bedroom door. Sheila was awake, watching TV.

When Darby eased open her mother's door, she could see pictures of the blast site reflected in her glasses.

'What happened to your face?'

'I slipped and fell. It looks worse than it is,' Darby said. 'How are you feeling?'

'Better, now that you're here.' Sheila turned down the volume on the TV. 'Thank you for leaving the note.'

Darby sat down on the bed. 'I tried calling, but the phone lines were down. I'm so sorry you had to go through that.'

Sheila waved it off, but Darby could see where the worry still ate at her. Even in the soft light, her face looked haggard, leached of color. Any day now.

Darby laid down next to her mother and hugged her.

'You know what I kept thinking about today? The time you got caught in an undertow and almost drowned. You were eight.'

Darby remembered the feeling of tumbling across the ocean floor, the water getting colder. When she finally resurfaced, she coughed up water for the next hour.

But it was the chill she felt while trapped underneath the water that refused to leave, even while she sat in the sun. The chill was still with her later when she was tucked in her bed underneath layers ofwarm blankets. The chill was a reminder that there were things in this world she couldn't always see, waiting to strike out when you least expected it.

'You didn't cry – your father was more shook up about it than you were,' Sheila said. 'He took you to get an ice cream, and you said – I'll never forget this – you said to him, "Dad, you don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself"'

Darby closed her eyes and saw the three of them packed in the car, on their way home, the car smelling of the ocean and Coppertone. The three of them together. Healthy and safe. A good memory there. She had lots of them.

'Coop stopped by,' Sheila said. 'He wanted me to know you were okay.'

'That was nice of him.'

'He's very nice – and funny.'

'That's what he keeps trying to tell me.'

'He looks like that basketball player, what's his name, Brady.'

'Tom Brady. He plays football. He's a quarterback for the Patriots.'

'Is he single?'

'He is.'

'I think you two should go on a date. You're well suited for each other.'

I've tried, but sadly, Tom Brady won't return my phone calls.'

'I was referring to Coop. He reminds me of your father, has that same quiet, confident way about him. Is he dating anyone?'

'Coop isn't the dating type.'

'He said he's looking to settle down.'

'Probably with one of his underwear models,' Darby said.

'He thinks very highly of you. Told me how smart you are, how hardworking and dedicated you are to your job. He said you're the most trustworthy person he has ever met -'

Darby was asleep.