“Yeah.”
“But the serial killer’s wife was stalking Penelope?”
“Possibly.”
“And the gallery?”
“Belonged to the artist and his wife.”
“The serial killer and the maybe stalker.”
“Yes. And Pen doesn’t know the wife might have been stalking her.”
“Which means she could have walked right into a spider’s web and
not known it.”
“Exactly!”
“You obviously checked the gallery and she’s not there.”
“Right.”
“Have you called Garrett?” he asked.
“Not yet. I called Melanie since she was with her earlier.”
“And you’re sure she’s not at the gallery?”
“I don’t think so. It’s closed and locked up. Looked totally dark.”
He paused. “How locked?”
I knew what he meant. My brothers and I all knew how to pick locks. It had been a basic Tilikum feud skill.
“Go,” I said. “See if you can get in. I’ll call Garrett.”
“Don’t tell him what I’m doing.”
“I won’t.”
“I’ll get Josiah and Zachary to check around town. Maybe she’s just out shopping or something.”
“That’s what I keep hoping. But my gut tells me something’s wrong.”
“I get it. Call me if you find her. And don’t leave your phone somewhere.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I know. Be careful.”
“You too.”
He ended the call, and I brought up Garrett’s number and hit Send. It rang, but no answer. I didn’t leave a message; I’d call him back.
Just in case, I called Pen again. Still nothing. “Damn it.”
As glad as I was to have Luke checking the gallery, at least to rule it out, I knew she wasn’t there.
Gina Morris. I didn’t know what she’d want with Penelope, but she was the only real lead I had. If they weren’t at the gallery, where else would they be? Her house? She probably lived in town, but I didn’t know where.
