Page 77 of That's Not My Name

I nod. “For a few weeks now. We spoke to a woman at the diner down the road who said she saw her with an older man and a bag from your store.”

Autumn steps up beside me. “Was she here?”

The woman looks between us, and then back at Max, still fidgety from that damn bird, and she nods at the photo. “Yes, they came in yesterday to buy some clothes. Left with quite a few things. Some shoes. They both seemed nice.”

Well, one of them is.

I pull up the pictures Max snagged from the diner footage and hold the screen out so she can see them. “Are these the people that came here?”

The woman stares at my phone through her crazy thick glasses, and nods vigorously. “Yes. Same hair, and I remember the jacket—it had the prettiest buttons, but this isn’t the best photo. Where did you get this?”

“From the diner,” Autumn says, and quickly changes the subject. “Do you remember anything about the man with her? Or the vehicle they were driving?”

“Why would you need to know any of that?”

“We’re trying to gather information to help the search effort,” I say. “The more you can tell us, the more we can bring to the police and hopefully find her faster. Please, her family is so worried about her, and we think the man she’s with may be dangerous.”

The old woman takes a step back and runs into the closed door. “You think that man…the one who was in my store, is a danger to that sweet girl?”

She looks so genuinely horrified that I feel a wave of guilt at what I have to say next. “We think he might have kidnapped her. Which is why we’re here. We need any information you have.”

“But they were so nice,” she insists. “They smiled at each other, and they laughed, and the girl put on her new clothes before she left, and everything seemedfine.” Each word sounds a little more high pitched and hysterical than the last. “If I’d known she was in danger, there’s no way I’d let her out of this store. Oh my god. What if they don’t find—”

Autumn reaches out and puts her hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Hold on a second, okay. Nobody is blaming you, and there’s no way you could know that she was in trouble, especially if she wasn’t acting strange. You’re not to blame.”

“But she was in my store…”

“What’s your name?” Autumn asks.

“Eloise. I’m Eloise.”

“Okay, Eloise, would you blame anyone at the diner for not helping her? Because they all saw her with the same man, and they didn’t think anything was up either. You didn’t take her, you didn’t look the other way, you didn’t do any harm here. He did. So we really need you to think and tell us if you saw or heard anything we can pass along to the police.”

Eloise nods like it’s a reflex, like she’s not really listening to us,but a second later she says, “I didn’t see their car. Just the people. The girl was young, your age. He was…quiet. Serious. He had bags under his eyes, but then so did she. They shopped and he helped her with her bags, and then they were gone. I honestly didn’t think anything of it.”

I take the flier from her so she doesn’t look at it again and freak out. “Would you be willing to call this into the official tip line? The police set up a hotline for sightings of Lola, and it’ll help a lot if they get the information from us and it’s backed up by your call.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh of course. I’ll call right now. I’ll do whatever I can.”

“Do you have a pen?” Autumn asks. “I’ll write down the number for you.”

Eloise fishes around in her gigantic purse and produces a pen and a pad of pink sticky notes. Autumn scribbles down two numbers and hands them back.

“The first is the hotline, and the second is the sheriff’s cellphone number. He’s been a little slow on checking the tip-line calls, so if you wouldn’t mind calling him directly, that would be a great help.”

Eloise frowns at the second number. “The sheriff’s personal number?”

“He’s her dad,” I say. “And kind of an ass.”

I mean to keep that second part to myself, but it slips out. Eloise lets out a surprised laugh. “It would be my honor to hassle your father if it means getting this sweet girl home.”

We thank her profusely, and she unlocks the door of the shop to start making calls. I’m filled with a very specific sort of longing. The kind that would place more people like her in charge. To put Eloise in Roane’s shoes and see how quickly Lola comes home. Having herso immediately invested in our mission feels like our little capsizing lifeboat might stay afloat.

We turn to leave and Eloise shrieks in the doorway, scaring another bird from the nest behind the shutters. This time Max dives into the car and stays there.

I whip around and the old woman’s eyes are gigantic. “They did say something! Before they left, the girl…Lola said she wanted to change into her new clothes before the long drive back to Alton.”

There’s a strange buzzing in my ear and I realize I stopped breathing. “Wait, she specifically said Alton? Are you sure?”

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