“Hey,” I say to him, gathering my fleeing courage like a cowgirl with a lasso, reining it in and forcing it to stick around. It’s time to do this. “I wanted to talk to you. Do you have a minute?”
“Sure,” he says. It’s hard to tell exactly how he feels about this request, because while his eyes seem curious, his mouth is still smiling. So…maybe pleasantly curious? Happily curious? Or maybe he’s not happy but it just takes a few seconds for the smile to fade?
He looks around awkwardly for a second before gesturing to his office. “Come in, I guess.”
“Oh,” I say, holding up one hand. “It’s not official or anything. I really just—well. I wanted to talk to you about Sandra. Sandra von Meller.”
Gus’s posture shifts so minimally I almost don’t notice, but it reminds me of a cat when its ears swivel toward you and its entire body freezes. Alert, wary, paying attention to see what happens next.
“Gus,” I say, sighing when I see the slight stiffening of his shoulders. “Please. I really need to know about the incident with Sandra. Something—she’s—I think somethinghappened to her.” I swallow, following my instinct to tell him at least part of the truth. “She’s missing,” I say. “So if you know anything that could help, anything at all…” I turn my pleading eyes to him. I’m not normally someone who begs, but I’m willing to right now.
Gus just looks at me for a moment, his eyes narrowed, his mouth tight. “What do you mean, she’s missing?”
Crap. This is not working. His expression couldn’t be more skeptical or suspicious if he tried.
I sigh, running my hand through my hair and frowning when I remember how gross and sweaty I am. “The last time anyone has seen her was at the Homecoming dance. Her mom thinks she’s on a road trip, but…” I trail off, debating how much to tell him. “But she’s not,” I finally say, the words heavy on my tongue. “I can’t tell you how I know. I really can’t. It’s too crazy of a story. But I can promise you that something happened to her, and whatever you know might help me figure out why.”
He continues to stare down at me, and his expression doesn’t change, but I do notice with rising hope that his face has paled a bit. Maybe I’m getting through to him after all.
He finally breaks eye contact, his gaze darting away as he looks at the photo above the water fountain.
“Did something bad really happen to her?” he says in a quiet voice.
I swallow. “Yes,” I say.
His eyes cut back to me. “Did she—is she—” His voice breaks, words cracking jaggedly in half before he finds them again. “Is she gone?”
“Yes,” I say, because I know what he’s asking. “She’s…gone.”
“And you’re sure.” It’s not a question.
I think back to Sandy’s body, lying on the forest floor. “Yes,” I say softly. “I’m sure.”
“Why haven’t you told the police?”
That’s a fair question. “I have,” I say with a sigh. “But someone has Sandy’s phone and is using it to impersonate her. Her mother refuses to admit she’s missing, and there’s no…no body.” I swallow again. “So the sheriff isn’t convinced.”
“It’s a small town,” Gus says, rubbing one hand over his face and looking more tired than I’ve ever seen him. “Their resources have never been great, and they’re understaffed. It doesn’t surprise me.”
I nod. “I know. So…will you help me?”
He nods without hesitation, and I try to clamp down on the relief that floods through me.
“Sandy was seeing someone,” he says bluntly.
“I—what?” I say, my eyes widening. “How do you know? Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” he says. His words are weary as he goes on, “And it wasn’t a high school boy, either. It was a man.”
“A…man?” Lionel?That’show she knew him? They were sleeping together? “You’re positive? How do you know?”
“I saw a picture on her phone,” he says, looking uncomfortable. “She left it on the bench”—he points to the bench lining one wall of the room—“and I picked it up just as it started ringing. His contact picture was the two of them in matching pink hoodies. Their hoods were up, and I didn’t recognize the guy, but I could tell he wasn’t a kid her own age. He looked older.”
“He could just be a tall student,” I say, thinking.
Gus nods slowly. “I thought that was possible too, until she answered the phone. I—well, I sort of eavesdropped.”
I raise my eyebrows, silently telling him to go on.
