Dylan kills the engine and rubs the perpetual scruff on his jaw, he's struggling as hard as I am. “The movies make it seem easy. Flash a picture, bam—perfect lead. I know it’s right for the reindeer ranch workers not to spill on their guests, but we’re hitting one wall after another.”
“But she was here two days ago. We’re so close.” Or am I just telling myself that? My daily reverse image searches finally produced a match from the reindeer ranch, three hours from home—or her old home, anyway. I pull up the photo on my phone. Her black hair and bright lipstick contrast her pale skin.
“I feel like we’re hitting one dead end after another. The hospital and the women’s shelter—they have to lock down privacy, but we’re trying to save our sister, not stalk her.”
“Do you think it's Nikki in the picture, or am I seeing what I want?”
He angles his head toward my phone, although I know he's memorized the photo just as I have. “Other than her holding that baby? Has to be. The hair, the skin—our own personal Snow White. So why the grocery store?”
“She craved fresh produce, hit the market daily back home.”
Dylan nods.
"Plus, we’ve driven the main streets and neighborhoods of this ridiculously small town. Where else do you suggest we look?"
Dylan reaches into the box of her belongings that we have in the backseat. He brings our last photo together into his lap. In the photo, Dylan's doing a cannonball into the swimming pool, about to splash Nikki and me. Dylan had asked Nikki's dad to take the picture.
Her dad was always a good sport, unlike our mom, who was a little too hard on Nikki. She would have needed ten minutes to position and reposition Nikki so that the camera would get her most flattering angle, instead of just letting the fun happen.
Besides, all of Nikki's angles are flattering.
We're hoping something in this box will help her remember, unless of course, she already does and—I banish the thought from my mind. She can't have been so mad at us that she walked away from everything.
“Wait—There she is.”
Nikki? I yank my attention from the photo. It's her. She’s on her phone, opening the door of a beat-up brown sedan in the front row, a grocery bag in each hand.
Where did she get that car? We've talked about how to approach her, not too fast or threatening, but now that we're in her presence…
“Nikki!” I bellow out the window, her name coming out choked.
She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t turn. Just gets in her car.
Dylan’s out of the car yelling, “Nikki! Wait up!”
She glances our way but an SUV stops between us, waiting for a car to back out of a space.
I hop out, and with Dylan, we make our way past the SUV, but Nikki's pulling out of her space.
We rush back to our car and Dylan has the ignition on as I'm slamming my door. I say, “That’s definitely her.”
He hits the gas then immediately slams on the brakes as kids pile out of the SUV.
I keep an eye on the brown sedan while Dylan safely exits the lot.
"We can't lose her again." The catch in my voice betrays my façade.
"We're not going to lose her," Dylan says.
But after three months with no word from her, I worry that we already have.
Chapter 4
Molly
My eyes lock on the tray of tiny cheesecake samples at the grocery store. Do I like cheesecake?
The lady behind the bakery counter points to the toothpicks. "Try one. We've got blueberry, strawberry, cherry, chocolate ganache swirls, salted caramel … Something for everyone."
