Page 130 of I Will Find You

“You okay?” Rachel asks.

“Peachy.”

Rachel has her burner. She calls mine. I answer. We do a quick test where she speaks and I listen. Now I’ll be able to hear her conversation with Irene or Tom or whoever answers the door, if indeed someone is home. Primitive but hopefully effective.

“I left the keys in the car,” she says. “If something goes wrong, just take off.”

“Got it. I have the gun too. If you’re caught, just tell the cops I forced you.”

She frowns at me. “Yeah no.”

I burrow back down and wait. We don’t have headphones of any kind, so I press the phone against my ear. It feels weird hiding in the backseat of a car, but that’s the least of my issues.

Through the phone, I hear Rachel’s footsteps and then the faint echo of the doorbell.

A few seconds pass. Then I hear Rachel say softly, “Someone’s coming.”

The door opens and I hear a woman’s voice say, “Rachel?”

“Hey, Irene.”

“What are you doing here?”

I don’t like that tone. No doubt in my mind: She knows about the APB. I wonder how Rachel is going to play it.

“Do you know those pictures you showed me from the amusement park?”

Irene is confused: “What?”

“Were they digital?”

“Yes. Wait, that’s why you’re here?”

“I took a photo of one with my camera.”

“I saw that.”

“I’m wondering whether I could see the others again. Or the files.”

Silence. It’s not a silence I like.

“Listen,” Irene says, “can you just wait here and give me a second?”

I know what I’m about to do is stupid, but I’m working off instinct again. Instinct is overrated. Going with your gut is the lazy man’s way. It’s an excuse to not think or consider or do the heavy lifting needed in good decision-making.

But I have no time for that.

When I roll out of the car, the gun is already in my hand.

I sprint toward the front door. Even from this distance I can see Irene’s eyes go wide in surprise. She freezes. That’s good for me. My worry is that she will step back into the house and close the door. But I have the gun raised.

Rachel says, “David?” but she doesn’t have time for the “what the hell are you doing?” before I reach Irene and say in a half yell/half whisper, “Don’t move.”

“Oh my God, please don’t hurt me!”

Rachel shoots me a look. I shoot her one back saying I had no choice.

“Look, Irene,” I say. “I just don’t want you to call the police. I won’t hurt you.”

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