“This place gives me the creeps,” she said, turning in a slow circle before switching off her light. She positioned herself in the center of his spotlight. Dust motes stirred around her. Riley’s beam caught the cobwebs that dangled from the rafters above her. Max shielded her eyes against the glare. “Hurry up, let’s get this over with.”
He tapped his screen and held it in front of him. “Three, two, one, aaaaand… we’re recording.”
“This is Riley Bernbaum and Max Sievers, and you’re listening toIn Your Backyard, a true-crime podcast where everyday civilians like you and me investigate unsolved crimes and bring justice to victims in our local community.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Vero whispered. “I told them no phones!”
“We’re reporting on location in Culpeper County,” Max said, “where we’re pursuing a promising new lead in a developing case. Less than a month ago, Riley and I attended a citizen’s police academy where we worked side by side with law enforcement. Now, we’re back, armed with new skillsandnew technology. And, thanks to our sponsor…” Max paused, as if she was looking up a name, “… Donut Bliss in Bristow, Virginia, we enjoyed some steaming hot coffee on our way to solve this ice-cold case. We can’t wait to dive into the box of glazed crullers that’s waiting for us in the car—”
“They get free donuts for this?” Vero whispered.
“—but first we have a missing persons case to crack.”
“Forget the donuts,” I whispered. “What do we do about their phones?”
“At least they’re not live streaming.”
“That doesn’t mean they won’t.”
“I have an idea.” Vero nudged me back toward her Charger as Riley and Max continued recording. Silently, she opened her trunk, retrieving two canvas grocery totes and a roll of duct tape.
“You have duct tape in the trunk of your car?”
“I thought we could try using it to keep Zach from taking his pants off. What?” she asked at my mortified look. “Do you have a better suggestion?” She slung the tape around her wrist and handed me a grocery bag, signaling for me to follow her lead before she tiptoed back to the barn.
Riley and Max were still recording inside.
“… The vehicle was discovered, burned beyond recognition, mere feet from where we’re standing,” Max said. “While the driver of the car has yet to be found, local police were able to trace the VIN and registration to a man from Pleasantville, New Jersey. Ignacious Grindley’s wife reported him missing only hours before—”
“Now!” Vero launched herself at Riley, surprising him from behind. She pulled her grocery tote over his head, knocked him to the ground, and yanked his wrists behind him. His phone slipped from his hands and tumbled to the dirt, the beam shining into the rafters.
Max blinked as the light shifted away from her. She gasped as I rushed her, her sneakers slipping in the hay as she scrambled away from me. “What are you doing!” she shouted as I pulled my grocery tote over her face. It took all my weight to hold her down until Vero could get to us and tape Max’s hands together.
“What do you want?” Max shouted through the tote.
Vero and I grabbed her under her armpits and hauled her through the hay, dropping her on her butt beside Riley. I retrievedhis phone from the ground as he cried and sputtered. The screen was cracked, but it was still recording, and I quickly erased the footage.
I turned on his phone light, shining the beam at the green canvas grocery totes covering their heads. Riley screeched, thrashing wildly as a field mouse scampered over his ankle. “Oh, god! Did you feel that? Something was crawling on my leg!”
“Why are you doing this?” Max cried.
Vero pitched her voice deep, giving it a harsh rasp to disguise it. “We told you, no phones.”
Max’s grocery tote tipped curiously to the side. “Wait, are you doing Batman?”
“I am Batman,” Vero rasped. She leaned close to my ear and whispered, “I’ve always wanted to say that.” Vero searched Max’s pockets for her cell phone. Max kicked out blindly as Vero took it and tapped the screen. She held it up to me, pointing at the security prompt.
“Give me the code to your phone,” Vero demanded.
“Your Batman voice is pointless,” Max said. “It isn’t even scary.”
“Are you kidding?” Riley cried. “It’s terrifying! Give them your freaking passcode before they kill us, Max!”
“No!” The grocery tote rose with the stubborn lift of her chin.
Vero ripped the bag off Max’s head and held the phone in front of her face, waiting for the facial recognition technology to unlock the home screen. Max crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue, refusing to cooperate.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Vero hissed through the hole in her ski mask.
