“Is she staying with someone? Who?”
“I can’t talk to you about this,” she hisses.
“All right, do this. Call her right now. If she’s all right, tell her I got a threatening email from Casanova, and I’m worried about her. Tell her to call the police. Tell her to say whatever it takes to get them to come to wherever she’s staying. And then tell her to call me. I’ll go and get her. Wherever she is.”
My sense of urgency convinces Sheri. Or maybe it’s just that I’ve suggested involving the police, which I would never do except in a dire emergency.
“I’ll call her. I will,” she says.
“If she’s okay, call me back. Or just text me. I need to know you heard her voice and that she’s safe.”
“I will.” Then the call ends, and there’s dead air.
The entire time I’m driving, I wait for Sheri’s call or text, but none comes. I hope it’s because she’s talking to Avery.
I reach the house, and it’s dark. There’s a sedan at the end of the driveway. When my headlights shine on it, my grandfather himself emerges.
I shove my door open and get out, shaking my head. “I didn’t mean for you to come yourself, Pops.”
“I know.” He comes over to shake my hand. “Do you think this asshole took her?”
“I don’t know. I hope not.”
The phone rings, and I jerk it up. It’s my dad.
I swipe the screen. “I’m here. Did Sheri talk to her?”
“No, we can’t reach her—”
“Fuck!” The world blurs around me. I put a hand on the Porsche to steady myself.
If Casanova already has her, how am I going to find them? The police have searched for him for months with no luck. I have to figure out a way—I need to get Avery back.
“Where was she? Here? Or—?”
“Shane, calm down. She’s not answering because there’s terrible cell service where she is. She went to your Grandpa Moran’s cabin in New Hampshire to cross-country ski for the weekend. Did you actually get an email from Casanova?”
“Of course. You think I’d make that up?”
“No, no.”
“I’ve gotta go. I can get to the cabin in two hours.”
“Shane, Casanova couldn’t know where she is. She’s been in Boston and just drove to New Hampshire yesterday. There’s no way he could’ve followed her from campus. She hasn’t been there.”
“Maybe he didn’t. Maybe she’s fine. I’ll go and make sure.” I raise a hand to wave to my grandfather as he heads back to his car.
I drop into the driver’s seat of the Porsche and close the door.
“Shane, why would Casanova email you? That doesn’t make sense.”
“I don’t know,” I say, though a part of me does.
Casanova and I share the same obsession. For a while, he wasn’t able to take Avery because I was in the way. He was frustrated. Now I’m not in his way anymore, and he’s gloating.
As I back out of the driveway, I grimace.
The thing that keeps hitting me over and over is I don’t think he’d send an email unless he was sure I couldn’t get to her in time.
