That Lacie is gone. Forever.
After brushing her teeth twice and forcing down a banana she’d brought up from the car, she straps her favorite blade to her thigh and dresses in a pair of denim shorts and a black T-shirt, readying herself for today’s goal: intel. Shrugging into an old jacket, she slinks out of the motel . . . but not before setting a minor booby trap inside the room.
Shielding her eyes against the bright morning sun, Carmen squints across the street to find the diner’s lot already full of cars. Shecouldtry that again—the lunch rush would be just as interesting to observe as last night’s dinner crowd—but it’d be a risk after her conversation with Bea went south. It’s possibleshe’s not working today, but Carmen decides to save that possibility for later.
Scanning the downtown intersection, she spots a shaded entrance to what looks like a park that cuts through the neighborhoods across the street—a black iron arch marks the pathway to get inside. A man in a navy windbreaker walks a golden retriever, disappearing through the mouth of it where the foliage of surrounding wisteria trees hangs low. It’s not theworstplace to start poking around, Carmen decides. And then she sets off.
The footpath beneath the arch is unpaved but well worn, and from what Carmen can tell itdefinitelyleads to some sort of nature park or preserve. Majestic trees are abundant: red maple, black birch, hemlock, and hickory, even a handful of giant magnolias. Renbury is situated right on the edge of the Hocking Hills, and the surrounding landscape’s beauty is more than Carmen ever expected. She’s not sure she’s ever seen a town more beautiful in her life.
It’s the perfectsettingfor monsters to hide in plain sight. No one would be looking for them in a place like this.
Setting off along the path, she heads into the park, soaking in the activity of the people around her. A handful of runners move along the trails, families with small children laugh and play around a playground, and a group of teenagers shout at each other through a rowdy game of basketball on a concrete court?—
Bingo.
Carmen keeps her pace casual as she makes her way toward it, scanning the faces of the boys who play. They’re older teens, maybe sixteen or seventeen. She has no idea how old Cody Daniels is, but if he was camping alone in the woods with a friend he’s got to be around their age, and this town is small enough that these boysshouldknow something.
As she sidles up to the edge of the court, she watches the boys dance around each other, aiming to steal the ball. Eventually, a stocky boy with bouncing blond curls notices her and smiles.
“Hey!” he shouts just before being pummeled by another boy who didn’t notice he’d stopped moving. “Jesus,” he sputters, clutching a hand to his chest where a bony shoulder made impact.
“Sorry man,” the other boy says, though he doesn’t look sorry at all. This must be quite the pick-up game.
The blond boy looks back to Carmen, brows pulled together. “Do you need help with something?”
“Actually, I do,” Carmen says. “Do you know Cody Daniels?” It might prove hazardous to ask so directly, but she doesn’t have many options.
Another boy with jet-black hair comes to a sudden halt, his rubber sneakers sliding along the concrete surface with a softwhoosh. “Cody?” he repeats. “Why are you looking for Cody?”
Carmen can tell by the unease splashed across his face that he not only knows Cody, but cares about him. It’s not likely he’ll share anything without good reason. So she eases her stance and gives him a soft smile, showing she’s not a threat. “I found something of his and I’m just trying to return it.” The lie is smooth off her tongue.
“What did you find?” he asks, unconvinced.
“I’d really rather not say. It’s something of value, and I want to make sure itishis before I give it to him. Only he would know if he’s missing it.”
The boy nods, but he still hesitates.
Thankfully Carmen gets a lucky break when the blond, who seems aloof to his friend’s distrust, blurts, “He’s probably working at the creamery tonight.” A goofy grin blooms through his face. “He’s been a scooper there for a while.”
Carmen smiles back. “Where can I find it?”
The dark-haired boy speaks up again. “How do you know it’s Cody’s?”
“What?”
“Whatever you found . . . How do you know it’s his?”
“Oh.” Carmen nods. “It has his initials on it—CD. I’ve narrowed it down to it most likely being his.”
Now all the boys are staring at her, and she knows they’ll keep asking questions if she doesn’t end this now.
“I’ll figure it out . . . sorry to bother you! Thanks, again!” She waves a hand before turning to head back where she came from. She hasn’t noticed any ice cream parlors in Renbury since her arrival yesterday, but that’ll be a lot easier to find than a kid she’s never seen.
Once she’s back out of the park, Carmen heads inside the motel to ask the old man at the front desk for directions to get ice cream.
Turns out, the closest shop is only three blocks away.
CHAPTER 3
