10 years ago, the Lawson family disappeared without a trace, seemingly into thin air. Upon the discovery of a hidden room, it reopens a decade later, and Harper Sloann, a low-ranking detective with a fascination for the macabre, takes on the case. I...
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The traffic wasn't letting up, which was another let down. I hunkered over the wheel, bored out of my mind. Up ahead, the morning sun burned against my skin and drove sweat out of my skin, but I took it all in. It's uncomfortable, but it's my penance. The serial killer had gotten away, leaving us with no leads as to who they were. All we know was that they smoked a particular brand of cigarettes and would frequent bars to pick up their next victim. It appeared to be random, with the victims ranging from children to old people. We still had to work out what the victims had in common to have been targeted by the killer, but now, Molina wanted the composite of the girl.
We asked around—which meant me going back to Mrs. Walsh and enduring another liturgy about her grandson, Timmy—and what we got back was surprising, to say the least. It's like everybody assumed this girl vanished along with the Lawsons, and that she had become part of the family in a blink. Whatever happened to the Lawsons, it happened to her, so when they talked about the family, they talked about her too.
The case was visible with Mrs. Walsh. When I asked her about the girl, she perked right up and told me, "I always thought she's Nicky's daughter. From another mother, that is. I never could keep track of who's married to whom."
Which made the two of us. Julia was wise enough to stay out of people's business, but in our situation, we needed that crucial information in pinpointing the girl's location, and if possible, her present condition.
When Pierce reported back from the Houstons and the other witnesses, all had been surprised to have forgotten about the girl being in a scene. Like seeing a ghost for the first time, they gave varying descriptions, trying to pinpoint who the girl could be. When asked for a name, they spouted all kinds of excuses—"That girl never talked, so I'm not sure.", "That girl was always inside the house, never to be seen in daylight. Some say she's a vampire, and I'm not going near that.", and the most common, "It's been too long. I can't even remember what I had for lunch yesterday.".
So after burning out the whole day going around from the various districts and states, I was beyond irked at the traffic we had to slough through once again. When would this ever end? Also, the serial killer could be up to something now, and I was still here, stuck in this inferno. I groaned.
"Want me to take over?" Pierce said, making me jump. Apparently, he's still here. "You look like you could use a break."
Oh, you and me both. Instead of saying that, I cleared my throat and gestured to the mass of cars and red lights around us. "I'm just sitting around on my ass," I said. "This is enough of a break."
Besides, what could he do? Make the car crawl forward millimeters per hour? She could do that too, thanks very much.
Pierce opened his mouth to blurt another thing, but my ringtone beat him to it. The question hung in his face—which was about how I never changed the ringtone out of the factory setting—but I silenced him when I jammed my hand on the green button and swung the phone to my ear. "Yeah?" I said. "Sloann speaking. Yes."
