Page 93 of Doug

“Check the car for Pixie,” Doug told Cisco the minute they were on the move. “I’ll pat him down.”

“Done.”

They both approached Harlan slowly, then broke off from one another, with Cisco going wide.

Doug used one hand to check the man for weapons, but only found a phone which he slipped into his flak-vest pocket. In the meantime, Cisco pulled open the back door on the opposite side of the car.

“Clear,” he barked. “No sign of Pixie.”

“Tell me what’s happening, Harlan.” Doug stepped back after he was sure there was nothing dangerous being carried.

“Can I turn around?” Harlan asked.

“You can, but make slow moves, you got it?”

Harlan nodded, and more slowly than Doug would have imagined possible, the man turned. Doug would have thought he was being facetious if he didn’t know Harlan was mentally compromised.

“That’s your truck,” Harlan said almost proudly, pointing across the street after he was fully turned around. “I knew it was. You like Miss Pixie.”

“That’s right, Harlan. I like Miss Pixie. And don’t move please. My partner is going to take your keys out of the ignition so he can check your trunk.”

“That’s where my spare tire is,” Harlan told him, tilting his head to the side. “Do you need a spare tire?”

Doug swallowed down his impatience and engaged civilly, not sensing anything dangerous about the man other than his enormous size. “No. I don’t need a tire, Harlan. We’re looking for Pixie.”

“She’s not in my trunk,” the man grunted. “That’s just silly.”

Cisco had the trunk open, and shook his head.

Doug’s heart fell. Had Harlan stashed her somewhere in his travels?

“Where—"

“Miss Pixie’s in trouble,” Harlan broke in, his brows drawing together as he regarded the worn toes of his boots. “She needs a policeman.” He raised his eyes. “That’s you. You’reherpoliceman. I’ve seen you.”

How did Harlan know that? Had he been stalking them? Doug kicked himself for never thinking that they might have had a tail during their trips to and from Skowhegan.

“Yes, Harlan. I’m her policeman,” he allowed, then focused on what else Harlan had told him, his gut clenching. “How is Pixie in trouble?

It felt like minutes before Harlan answered.

“I lost her, you know. I fell asleep in the woods behind her sister’s house. When I woke up, there was nobody there. They were already gone.” He shook his head. “It was early, and I was cold, but I turned my heat on full blast and drove back to Miss Pixie’s house. There was nobody there, either.”

He looked momentarily perplexed, then a smile touched his lips.

“Then Ian, that’s Miss Pixie’s neighbor. He came out to say hello. He has a dog, you know. It’s a nice one.”

“That’s great, Harlan. Then what happened?”Don’t rush him, Doug warned himself. Harlan might just shut down.

“He told me everybody was away getting ready for Miss Talia’s wedding.”

Doug knew that Pixie’s entire family had gone for a celebration breakfast at the farmhouse, compliments of Ellen Sothard.

“I’m friends with Miss Talia on my phone,” Harlon stated out of nowhere. Doug didn’t know if the information was meant to be helpful, or simply a random observation.

“What does that mean, Harlan?”

The man snuffled. “I don’t remember to look at my phone all the time.” He shook his big, shaggy head. “But getting married…Miss Talia would write aboutthat.” He looked very proud of himself all of a sudden.

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