His lip curled into a nasty sneer. “If you don’t get your ass moving and come with me, you’re going to be sorry. In more ways than one.”
Her stomach pitched as his meaning became clear. “No,” she whispered. “I won’t go. We’re not going.”
As he reached for her, the sound of her mother’s voice pierced the air. “Leave her alone!”
Her mother lunged for him but it was too late. His fingers were already threaded through her hair, yanking at her scalp, dragging her around like a rag doll. With both hands, she clawed at his wrists. Shrieks filled the room. Not hers. Her mother’s. Bile rose up the back of her throat. She closed her eyes as tightly as she could, silently begging the one person who might help them to be there when she opened them.
But before she could, his grip on her hair tightened until she felt strands tear from her scalp and then she was being propelled forward, fast. Too fast. Pain exploded across her face, sharp and violent, and she prayed for oblivion.
But then she heard his voice again and she knew she’d never be that lucky.
“Both of you are coming with me. If you put up a fight, I’ll hurt you—both of you—and when I do, I’ll make sure you feel it for days.”
FIFTEEN
The two lattes Josie had gulped down buzzed through her bloodstream, making everything around her seem sharper as Gretchen cruised through the city streets. The festival traffic didn’t slow her down. She weaved smoothly and expertly around stopped traffic, fitting her car through spaces Josie wouldn’t have dared try to navigate. Must have been all those years driving through the narrow, congested Philly streets.
The acid of the double espresso climbed up her throat as they pulled up to the address Gretchen had been given. Light roast, her ass. A Denton PD cruiser sat outside a two-story brick house in East Denton. Two sets of concrete stairs bracketed by a grassy front yard led to the front porch. Hanging baskets of multicolor geraniums swayed in the slight breeze. As they reached the porch, Josie noted the glider under the front window. Someone had left a paperback on it, face down and open.Escape to the Countryby Kim Nash. Beneath it was a pair of flip-flops that looked as though they’d been kicked off. Several small parcels were scattered on the welcome mat near the door, which was closed. Envelopes burst from the mailbox affixed to the brick façade. The dead eye of a cheap, generic outdoor home security camera presided over all of it.
A camera was a good thing. A great thing, even. Still, unease coiled behind Josie’s breastbone, making her heartbeat tick upward. Gretchen returned to the landing between the sets of steps where the stone walkway cut around the side of the house. “Conlen said they’re in the backyard.”
Josie followed Gretchen. A chain-link gate was thrown open at the yard’s entrance. It wasn’t big but half of it had been cordoned off for a vegetable garden. Officers Conlen and Brennan stood listening to a man with thick gray hair, dressed in khaki shorts and a dark blue T-shirt. His brown eyes flickered toward the back door, only a few feet away. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes bunched together in worry. “With all due respect, gentlemen, what do you hope to accomplish by standing around?”
Conlen sighed heavily. “I know you’re frustrated, Mr. Craig, but there is a process here. We just need to go over a couple of things again?—”
“What could you possibly need to go over again? Shouldn’t you be looking for my neighbors already?”
“Tell us again how you met them,” Brennan said.
“I already told you,” Mr. Craig huffed. “They moved in right after the Christmas before last. A year and a half ago. I’d never met them before that but they’re good neighbors. Way better than the last few tenants. We help each other out. The landlord doesn’t return calls unless there’s a natural disaster. I make small repairs and in exchange, Dani takes me to my wound care appointments. Got a venous ulcer on my ankle that won’t heal.”
Josie and Gretchen flashed their credentials as they joined them, introducing themselves. The man shook each of their hands. “Earl Craig. Guess I’m going to have to repeat myself for the third time. I don’t mean to complain but I’m worried about my neighbors.”
Gretchen smiled at him as she set her reading glasses onto the bridge of her nose and got her pen and notebook out. “I know it can be tedious, Mr. Craig, but it’s helpful to go over things more than once. Sometimes we pick up on a detail we missed before.”
“Oh.” Craig’s pinched expression loosened. “That’s a good point.”
Josie made eye contact with Conlen. He or Brennan could have briefed them, but it was always better to hear directly from the witness. He stared back at her, eyes widening as his head subtly jerked toward the back door. It was half open, revealing a sliver of kitchen tile. Josie already knew she wasn’t going to like what they found inside.
“The residents are Danielle Schwarber and her sixteen-year-old daughter,” Brennan interjected.
“Cassidy,” Earl provided helpfully.
“Schwarber?” Josie asked.
Earl nodded. “I think so.”
Josie felt a slight prickle along the nape of her neck. Cassidy. It couldn’t be Turner’s daughter. The last names didn’t match up. Cassidy wasn’t that common, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that there were two teenage girls by that first name in Denton. Besides, Turner had said he lived in an apartment. Though that didn’t mean anything. If he was divorced or even separated, then they wouldn’t live together.
Gretchen’s elbow bumped Josie’s arm, drawing her out of her thoughts.
Pushing down the flurry of questions and the apprehension that flamed to life in her brain, Josie focused on Earl Craig. “No husband? Boyfriend?”
“None that she ever mentioned to me.”
“No family nearby that you’re aware of?” she asked him.
“Not here. Dani said her aunt lives about two hours away. Parents in Florida.”
