Before it’s too late for Alicia.
The tree branches groaned and scratched as the wind picked up. Standing out here much longer was about as appealing as being mugged. But Sarah wanted to talk to the girl as long as possible. She mentally scrambled for a way to meet both goals.
“Can I give you a lift home?” Good idea.
Matilda shook her head. “It’s not that far. I like walking.”
“It’ll be dark soon.” Sarah surveyed the sky. Another clear night. Which meant it would be even colder.
“I’m not afraid of the dark.”
One girl was dead, another missing. A young girl shouldn’t be out walking alone. Especially at dark.
“Until the police catch the person responsible for what’s happened, it’s probably not a good idea to be walking alone in the dark.”
“They won’t catch him.”
Anticipation prickled Sarah’s chilled flesh. “They’re trying very hard. I’m sure they will.”
Those eerie gold eyes held Sarah’s. “They can’t catch him.”
That feeling, the one that made your skin prickle and the hair on your neck stand on end, sent Sarah’s instincts to the next level. “Why do you say that?”
“Because he’s the devil. Cops can’t catch the devil.”
17
A passing car drew Sarah’s attention to the street. She turned back to Matilda. “What makes you think—”
The girl was gone.
Taken aback, Sarah scanned the cemetery. The only way she could have disappeared so quickly was to have headed into the woods behind her great-great-grandmother’s grave.
Strange girl.
Cops can’t catch the devil.
“Yeah, right, kid.”
Sarah’s cell vibrated.
Three guesses who’d show up as the caller, and the first two didn’t count.
He’d called repeatedly today. Each time Sarah had ignored him. But twelve was the number. If she didn’t answer this time, her editor would send a search party. Her editor and shrink used the same strategy to keep her in line.
Sarah dragged out the phone and accepted the call. “Newton.”
“You almost missed me,” Don Wiley warned. “I had my finger on my cell’s speed dial for Frank.”
Frank. Sarah curled her lip in disgust. Frank Sampson had been Don’s heavy for twenty years. Whenever Don needed one of his reporters located, extricated, or reined in, Frank was the man he called.
“Your intimidation tactics don’t work on me, Don.” Sarah wasn’t afraid of Frank; she just didn’t like him.
“Call me when you arrive means the second you cross into the city limits, not the next day. Oh, wait, you didn’t call me period. I called you.”
Yeah, yeah, her editor was a comedian. Appeared to be lots of those around.
“Don’t give up your day job, Don. I’m here. I’m alive so far, and I’ve only pissed off a couple of people.” She almost lost her balance on a patch of ice. “Happy?”
