Page 43 of Do Not Disturb

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After I hang up with Scott, I can’t stop pacing across the living room. I was trying to give my sister a clear shot to escape the police, figuring she would contact me when they stopped looking for her, but it’s not working. How did she manage to get herself pulled over? What was she doing with a blown out taillight anyway?

That’s when I make a split second decision:

I’m going to look for her.

This is New England—the main roads will be clear by now. I need to find her before the police do. I have a sense of where they pulled her over. And I know Quinn better than anyone in the world.

I’m going to find my sister.

Chapter Twenty-Two

It’s dark by the time I get on the road. Fortunately, the snow has been cleared from the streets, so the tires don’t slip too badly. I can only imagine Quinn taking this route last night, when the snow was really coming down. She didn’t have a chance.

I merge onto the highway and start driving north. I filled up my tank in anticipation of the storm, so I’ve got enough gas to get me well across state lines, but I don’t think I’ll need to go that far.

Only a day earlier, Quinn took this exact route in her attempt to escape. I imagine her gripping the steering wheel, her eyes pinned down the road. I’m the one who taught Quinn to drive. She was very responsible about it. She would sit in the driver’s seat, holding the wheel carefully in the nine and three positions, her shoulders stiff as a board. She passed the driving test on her first try, and the first thing she did was hug me.

I can find her. I know I can.

About an hour after I get on the road, my phone rings. I rifle around in my purse, searching for it with my fingers, but the first thing they come in contact with is the pocket knife. It’s Rob’s knife, which he uses when he goes fishing, but I borrowed it. I thought it would be a good idea to have a little protection handy. Just in case.

My fingers finally locate my phone. I pull it out of my purse without taking my eyes off the road. I glance down at the name on the screen.

It’s the police station.

I put the phone on speaker and drop it into the cupholder. “Hello?” I say.

“Claudia? It's Deputy Dwyer.”

“Hi, Scotty.”

There’s a pause in the other line. I wonder if I finally got to him by using his old nickname. “Listen, Claudia. Where are you?”

I freeze. “I’m… at home.”

“No, you’re not. I was just at your house and your husband told me you weren’t home. He said he hasn’t seen you since the morning and didn’t know where you are.”

“Oh…”

“Have you spoken to your husband recently?”

“No, I don’t generally get his permission when I leave the house.”

Scott ignores my jab. “So where are you then?”

There’s no way I can tell him where I really am. “I just stepped out for a bit. To the grocery store.”

“I see.” He doesn’t sound like he believes me, but what can he do? Arrest me for not being home? “I’d be happy to meet you wherever you are. I’d like to speak to you.”

A shiver runs down my spine. “About what?”

Another silence on the other line. “I’d rather talk in person. Where are you?”

I press my foot down on the gas, my head whipping back as the car accelerates. “Did you find Quinn?”

“No. Not yet.”

I don’t understand why he wants to speak to me so badly. And I don’t like the idea of meeting him somewhere that isn’t the police station. Not for the first time since I discovered my brother-in-law’s dead body, I don’t entirely trust Deputy Scott Dwyer.