My dad was smart. I almost always agreed with what he’d said, but that one gave me pause. It looked to me like Gloria Hansen could use some help. I’d tried bringing it up to Maureen, but she told me her mom had the house the way she liked it.
“Thank you,” I told Mrs.Hansen, sucking in my breath so I could squeeze past her onto the single path. It led directly toward the stairs with a branch at the living room. I could hear the TV going but couldn’t see what was on. I headed straight up the stairs, Brenda on my heels, the track seeming tighter than it had the last time I’d visited. I didn’t remember the stacks brushing my arms when I passed. The stench of decaying animal was stronger, too. I hoped that meant the smell had reached its peak and would soon dissipate.
“Maureen?” I called out at her door. It was plastered in Andy Gibb posters. “Ready or not, here we come!”
I knocked once and walked in. Her room was regular messy rather than rest-of-the-house messy. There were more clothes on the floor than in her closet or dresser, and her vanity was covered with tubes of Kissing Potion and mascara and glittering earrings. Her bed was unmade.
And empty.
“Check the bathroom,” I told Brenda, but she was already down the hall.
She reappeared in seconds. “She’s not up here.”
It had taken us some pleading to get Mrs.Hansen to call the police. First we had to convince her that Maureen wasn’t upstairs. Once we’dpoked in the few places left that would allow a person, Mrs.Hansen still swore it wasn’t anything to worry about.
But it wasn’t like Maureen to disappear, not without telling Brenda at least.
Brenda seemed unsure about calling the police, too, but I pushed. Something felt very wrong. Finally, Mrs.Hansen let me call the sheriff’s office.
They sent Jerome Nillson.
We’d been standing on the front porch, waiting, so we saw his car pull up. Sheriff Nillson was thick around the middle, but not tall, yet he seemed large, imposing. It was the uniform, and the way he carried himself, and the booming voice. Brenda looked away when he strode toward us, just like she had when he’d talked to us before our show last night. I figured this time it was because of her shiner.
I met him at the middle of the sidewalk and repeated what I’d told the dispatcher. Sheriff Nillson immediately agreed with Mrs.Hansen’s assessment that it wasn’t anything to worry about.
“She probably ran away.”
I didn’t have the courage to argue, but Brenda appeared at my elbow, her face tight. “She didnot. We have another show tonight. At the fair. She wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
I was glad to hear Brenda was as worried as me.
Sheriff Nillson studied her black eye. I think he did, anyhow. He was wearing those reflective cop sunglasses, his mouth a thin line. “Well, then, how about this? If she doesn’t show up for this evening’s show, that’s when we’ll start to ask questions.”
He smiled over us at Mrs.Hansen. She was standing in the half-open front door, so she could slip forward or back as the situation required.
“How’s that sound, Gloria?” he asked, raising his voice. “We won’t even start worrying about Maureen yet. She’ll be at the fair tonight, you can bet on it. No reason to waste all the manpower, right?”
Mrs.Hansen shrugged.
Sheriff Nillson seemed to dislike something about the motion. “How’ve you been, Gloria? Want to invite me in for some coffee?”
He moved toward the porch. Mrs.Hansen backed into the house, scowling, but she didn’t close the door. Brenda and I stayed on the sidewalk.
“She’s not going to be at the show tonight,” Brenda said under her breath. “I know it in my bones.”
I felt the same thing. It made me jittery. When I closed my eyes, the image of her on her knees overwhelmed me. Had those men hurt Maureen? “Should we tell him ... tell him what we saw the other night? What we saw Maureen doing?”
She spun on me, and at first I thought she was going to yell at me for bringing up the thing we’d promised to forget. But she didn’t look mad. She looked surprised, and then scared.
“Heather, Sheriff Nillson wasthere. I thought you knew.”
CHAPTER 18
Jerome Nillson’s back was a square, blocking our view of Mrs.Hansen. His meaty hands hung loose at his sides. Brenda’s breathing was uneven in my ear as she waited for me to respond. I felt like she’d smacked me sideways.
Sheriff Nillson had been there?
I closed my eyes, remembered the strobe light, that hand pushed against the back of Maureen’s head, shoving her into him, that familiar copper ID bracelet hanging against a wrist much thinner than Sheriff Nillson’s. My eyes popped open.
