Page 133 of Shortcake
“We will. She’s sixteen and doesn’t have a car. And this is a small town. There’s not a lot of places for her to hide.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Yes, it was a small town. Yes, everyone talked and it wasn’t easy to sneak around without someone narc-ing on you.
But there were a million places to hide. There were miles and miles of woods and mountains and hiking. Tons of small, abandoned buildings…
Buildings like the old mill.
The mill that I told her I always ran away to when I was her age.
Was it even still possible to get on that rooftop? It was under construction now for the new medical center.
“Elijah,” I said. “Slight change of plans. Can you come over here and wait outside for her just in case she comes home? I’m going to go check somewhere I think she might be.”
“You got it. Anything I should fill Conrad in on if he comes home first?”
I climbed in my car, slamming the door shut and pinching the phone between my ear and shoulder blade. “I’ve left him a bunch of messages, so hopefully he’ll be caught up by the time he gets home or he’ll call me first. But a pregnant woman might come by the house… Harper’s mom.”
I shoved my car in reverse and screeched out of the driveway.
“Harper’s mom?” Elijah repeated. “This is all starting to come together.”
I blew out a tight breath and slammed my foot into the gas pedal. “You don’t even know the half of it,” I muttered, peeling off toward the old mill. “Thank you for doing this, Elijah.”
“Of course. Adam’s here too and we’re both worried. Bring her home safe, Addy.”
“I’ll try.”
* * *
I calledConrad another four times on the drive. Straight to voicemail. Again.
Turning into the old mill by about five-fifteen, I found there was only one contractor left there working. Although, I use the term ‘working’ pretty liberally. He was sitting in the back of his truck, smoking a cigarette.
I scared the shit out of him as I screeched into the parking lot, barely remembering to turn my car off before I jumped out and ran toward him at full speed.
Wide eyed, he stared at me, the cigarette dangling precariously from cracked lips.
“Have you seen a girl?” I asked. “About this tall. Bleached blond hair. Sixteen years old.”
“Uh… no,” he said.
Great. Just great.
Hands on my hips, I inspected the building, looking up at the roof to see if I could see the shadow or outline of anyone up there.
He cleared his throat. “But uh, if I’m being honest, I’m the last one to clock out. And I was in that port-a-potty for about thirty minutes.”
Ick.
“Is there an easy way to get to the roof? Either inside or—”
“Oh there’s scaffolding up around the back. It’s safe but pretty intimidating. I don’t think a teenager would—”
“Thanks,” I said and took off running around the back of the building.
I ignored him as he shouted behind me, “You can’t climb up there! You’re not insured!”
Fine. Call the sheriff and slap a trespassing fine at me. I wasn’t leaving this building until I made 100% sure that Harper wasn’t up there.
