Page 49 of The Summer Guests

“Who’s going to give it to me? Our fearless police chief is right in front of us.”

Declan, sitting beside Maggie in the back seat, whispered in her ear: “And we thought the days of risking our lives were behind us.”

An oncoming car blasted its horn, and Lloyd scooted back into his lane just in time. “Damn tourists,” Lloyd grumbled.

“You know,” said Ben, “if you slow down, we might actually make it there alive.”

“And miss the action? I don’t want to lose her.”

Ingrid turned to look at the three back seat passengers. “He always regretted never working in the field.”

“My whole career, stuck behind a desk,” Lloyd muttered.

“You would have made a fine NOC,” said Ingrid. “But we just got these wheels aligned. If you hit another pothole, you’ll throw it all out of whack again.”

Jo turned west.

Lloyd did, too, swerving around the same corner so fast that he sent his passengers lurching sideways. “Where the blazes is she going?”

They were headed away from the coast, and traffic melted away behind them. The occasional house gave way to trees and more trees, the forest closing in like an encircling legion. They bounced down a road that had turned into an obstacle course of cracked pavement and frost heaves, the inevitable casualty of harsh winters and invading tree roots. Maggie looked out at the ever-thickening woods and thought:Out here, a body might never be found. Is this where he brought her?

“She’s stopping,” said Ingrid.

Jo pulled over to the side of the road and parked right behind another cruiser. Officer Mike Batchelder, wearing a Kevlar vest, stood waiting for her. It was the first time Maggie had ever seen Batchelder wearing Kevlar, and now Jo was donning her body armor, too, a visual shout ofThis is serious. This could end in bloodshed.

Lloyd braked to a stop.

Jo stormed toward them and leaned into the car window, her eyes narrowed, her face tight with fury. “What thehellare you doing here?”

“Backup,” said Ben.

“No. No way! You will leavenow.”

“This is where the phone was turned on?” said Ingrid, eyeing the rural mailbox atop the crooked wooden post. The name on the box,WADE, was barely legible against the splotchy background of rust. Beyond it, a dirt driveway trailed into the woods and curved out of sight. “Someone actually lives down there?”

“I don’t see a house,” said Lloyd. “Too many trees.”

“If we can’t see him, then he can’t see us, so we still have the element of surprise.”

“Didanyof you hear me?” said Jo.

“How do you plan to proceed?” asked Ben.

“Proceed? First, I’m going to get you people to leave.”

“But we can help,” said Lloyd.

Jo glared at him. “I doubt it.”

“And thisisa public road, isn’t it? Don’t we have a right to park here?”

Jo huffed out a breath and pulled herself straight. “Okay. Okay.” She shoved back the strands of hair that had fallen loose from her ponytail. “You will stayright here, in your vehicle. Don’t leave the road, don’t try to interfere, or I swear I’ll have you all in handcuffs.” She turned and stalked away.

“I don’t think she’s serious,” said Lloyd. “Who carries five pairs of handcuffs?”

“For now, let’s cooperate,” said Declan. “Stand by and see what happens.”

From the SUV, they watched as Jo and Mike proceeded on foot past the rural mailbox and down the dirt driveway, only to vanish from sight into the woods. For a moment no one in the vehicle said a word; they were straining too hard to hear what was happening beyond that curtain of trees. Maggie glanced at her watch and wondered how much daylight they had left. It was gloomy here on this overgrown road, with twilight thickening around them. She felt her pulse throb faster, her muscles tighten.

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