Two days and still nothing. There'd been no activity on the bank account that she and Rob shared, and nothing to indicate she'd run away. Not that Lilly or I thought Melanie would do that—we both believed she and Rob were too much in love for that to happen, no matter how many times we overheard people muttering that, behind closed doors, nobody really knows what goes on between a husband and wife.
Sleep came slowly, if at all. I lay there, my arms around Lilly, straining to hear anything out of the ordinary coming from Les's room. Most of the time, Lilly was awake too, but we didn't talk. There wasn't anything to say. We were both feeling the shadow of something dark, and talking about it didn't do anything but make it more real.
The atmosphere around Osborne was one of concern, but not panic, which meant the information about the Bible and note hadn't been leaked. The sheriff had kept his people from talking, and Rob obviously hadn't breathed a word about it. In fact, he hadn't been saying much at all. As I dressed for work, I realized that I never heard from him at all the previous day. The first day after it happened, Lilly and I both called him every couple of hours until he'd finally asked us to stop. We'd given him the space he needed, but I would have expected at least one call, if only for an update. But there'd been nothing.
I pulled on my boots, leaned over, and gently kissed Lilly's forehead without waking her, before I headed for my car. As I backed out of the driveway, I made the decision to call Rob at lunchtime. I realized that he was trying to deal with it on his own, but after forty-eight hours without any leads, I knew he had to be going into panic mode, not that I could blame him. I was no cop, but I knew that after the first few days the chances of finding someone alive began to drop dramatically.
When I got to work, I couldn't concentrate. Luckily, my job was pretty mindless. I did have to be aware of my surroundings if I went down into the mine, but it was basically repetitive. To be honest, I spent a lot of my time working on music in my head. Zombie Rock mostly did covers, but every so often, I'd come up with something new. At the moment, however, there was no music in my head. I was too busy trying to figure out what could have happened to Melanie.
An idea hit me partway through the morning, something I hadn't thought about, and I picked up the phone. The sheriff answered on the first ring.
"I had a thought about the case," I blurted out.
"Go ahead."
I couldn't tell if he was annoyed or not, and I was half expecting him to make some horse-shit comment like let us handle it, Jack, or just leave the investigation to the professionals. But he didn't, so I went ahead and shared my theory. "I think Melanie went for a walk, just a short stroll, and someone grabbed her and took off."
Silence. Then the sheriff spoke. "We already considered that, Jack."
Of course they did, he and his people are trained for this sort of thing.
"From a logistics standpoint, it makes sense," he continued. "And would explain why there wasn't any evidence of a struggle in the house."
"Right, that's what I—"
"But," he interrupted, "that doesn't take the Bible into account."
Right. Crap.
"The kidnapper would've had to force Melanie into the car, subdue her, then drive back to the house and leave the Bible."
I was actually a little surprised that he was taking the time to explain his thinking to me, but I let him continue without interrupting.
"So if he'd grabbed her in the driveway or in front of the house, that might've explained it, but the neighbors all said they didn't recall seeing any unknown vehicles on the street that day." He sighed.
"So there hasn't been anything new?" I asked, even though I knew the answer. He would've called us if he'd gotten a lead, or a break in the case.
"Nothing." He hesitated, then added, "Have you talked to Rob today?"
"No," I said. "Why?"
"That first day, the kid was always underfoot, constantly coming in to the station and calling every five minutes. Yesterday morning, he started off the same way, but then, a bit after noon, he stopped. I figured he finally understood that it wasn't helping. Then I tried to call him last night to tell him we were still working but hadn't found anything new. He didn't answer."
I swore, then quickly apologized.
"I'm going to take that as confirmation that you haven't heard from him," the sheriff said, his voice sounding tired.
I wondered how much sleep he'd gotten in the past two days.
"No, I haven't." I stood and reached for my car keys.
"I'll send someone over to check on him."
"No," I said. "Don't bother . . . I'm on my way."
"But you're at work, Jack. You sure?"
"Yeah, I'm leaving now."
"Do you think Rob would hurt himself?"
I didn't want to, but I answered honestly. "To tell the truth, I'm not sure what he'd do if he thought Melanie was gone for good."
"Okay, I'm going to send a car over, Jack. You can still come, but I can't wait for you to get there. Not if he's in some sort of danger."
"Thanks, I'll be there as soon as I can," I said, and ended the call. Then I shouted to the foreman, telling him I had a family emergency and would be back as soon as I could. I didn't wait for his response, but climbed in my car and drove away as fast as the old rust-bucket would go.
When I arrived, two squad cars were there and the sheriff was getting out of one of them. The moment I saw his grim and haggard expression, I knew something was wrong. I looked at the front of the house. The door was wide open.
"Jack." The sheriff moved to intercept me.
"What happened?" I could hear the panic in my voice.
"There's no one here," he said.
I stopped. "What?"
He held up his hands, palms out. "When Deputy Adair got here, the door was closed and locked. No one answered."
"Maybe he's at work."
The sheriff pointed toward the driveway and I saw what my brain hadn't registered before: Rob's car. While he worked closer to home than I did, walking wasn't an option unless he wanted to leave an hour before he was scheduled to start.
"What happened to the door then?" I asked.
"When the deputy didn't get an answer, and said the car was in the driveway, I had him break it down." My father-in-law looked away when he said it.
"You thought Rob tried to kill himself."
He looked back at me, but didn't say anything. He didn't have to; I could see the answer written on his face. He'd truly thought Rob would take his own life and, as much as I hated to admit it, I couldn't say that I hadn't been thinking the same thing. Because what I'd told him before was true—I didn't know how far Rob would go if he thought Melanie was gone for good.
The sheriff remained quiet for a moment, as if deciding on an appropriate response, then said, "I'll admit that was my first thought, but we found no evidence of anything like that. There was no note, or anything that indicated he might be suicidal."
"But you obviously still think it's a possibility," I said, gesturing toward the deputies who were still busy searching the house.
The sheriff shrugged. "I don't know, Jack. All I know is we have a missing husband of a missing woman, a car that hasn't been used, and a locked house. I can't help but think that maybe Rob didn't want to mess up the house, and decided to go somewhere else."
"Do you mind if I look around inside?" I asked, not wanting to believe what he was insinuating. There had to be a better explanation. "Maybe I'll see something you've missed."
Rather than taking offense at the implication that I could do a better job than him, he held out a pair of plastic gloves and motioned toward the door. "You know the house better than we do."
I pulled on the gloves and hurried inside, hoping I'd find something that would tell me my friend was okay. Anything to ease my fears that something had happened to him, too.
A sense of deja-vu washed over me. The police, as well as Lilly and I, had been through the house just a couple days before. Today, I could see how things had changed in just a short period of time. Dirty dishes, half-eaten plates of food, were stacked on the counter near the sink. Rob's shoes were in the middle of the floor, and there was some unopened mail and three newspapers scattered across the table.
I stopped in my tracks.
Rob's shoes were in the middle of the floor.
Swearing softly, I went to the coat closet next to the door. I saw two pairs of winter boots. I left the door open and hurried back to Rob's room. His dress shoes were in his closet. I swore again. Rob and I always joked about how our wives needed at least a half dozen pairs of shoes, when all we needed was one pair of dress shoes, one pair of boots, and a pair of sneakers.
"Did you find something?" the sheriff asked from the doorway.
"All of his shoes are here," I said. "He has three pairs, and they're all here."
The sheriff frowned. I turned to walk toward him and bumped against the dresser. My eyes immediately darted down to make sure nothing fell. That's when I saw it. One of those small New Testaments that were always getting handed out at schools and college campuses.
I closed my eyes, counted to ten, and opened them again, hoping I'd hallucinated, but there it was. I heard the sheriff coming toward me, but I couldn't take my eyes off of the Bible. Carefully, I pushed back the cover and revealed the inscription written there.
"Romans 3:23," I read.
"'For the wages of sin is death,'" the sheriff muttered.
"It's signed by Garret." My voice sounded strange in my ears as the blood rushed to my head. I put my hand on the dresser to steady myself. "Whoever took Melanie has Rob too."
What happened next was a blur. The sheriff had me wait outside while he called in a deputy to take pictures. I called Lilly and left a message telling her what happened, then leaned against the hood of my car and waited. My head was spinning. What was happening? First Melanie, then Rob? Were they targeted for what happened to Garret? If so, why them? Why not me? I'd been the one who'd lead the revolt against him. And who could be doing this? We'd killed all of Garret's Zombie supporters. And no one outside of Osborne knew what really happened that day.
"Do you have any ideas?" the sheriff said, interrupting my thoughts. "Because I'll admit, Jack, I have no clue what the heck is going on here."
His confession didn't make me feel any better, and my answer was only going to make things worse. "Whoever's doing this . . . they're just getting started."
Unfortunately, the sheriff agreed with me. He decided the safety of Osborne far outweighed the possibility of panic, so he called for a town meeting with the intention of telling the population that someone was out there, pretending to be Garret. I wasn't so sure I agreed with his choice, but it wasn't my call.
There wasn't anything I could do at Rob's. I knew there wouldn't be any other clues found, but still, I was reluctant to go. I felt like if I left, my friends would never be found. They'd just vanish, forgotten. Still, I knew Lilly and Les would need me, so I forced myself to go.
In a daze, I drove home, barely remembering how I got there. But when I pulled up to the trailer, my adrenaline level spiked at the sight of my mother's car in the driveway. I forgot everything else and ran inside. Logic told me that she was probably just there to see Les, or Lilly had asked her to babysit or something, but I couldn't stop the feeling of panic that swept over me.
The moment I opened the door, I knew my intuition had been right. Mom was sitting on the couch next to Lilly, tears streaming down her face. Lilly looked up with a torn expression on her face.
"Jack!" Mom sobbed. She stood and threw her arms around me. "Kieran's missing!"
My stomach plummeted. There was zero chance in my mind that this could be a coincidence. I led her back to the couch and we sat down. I could see Les was in the corner, quietly preoccupied with a game of some kind. That, at least, made me relax a little. But not much.
"Tell us what happened." Lilly said.
Mom coughed, then started to talk. "Kieran was home sick today, so I drove back at lunch to see how he was doing. Everything was locked and no one was there. He'd been on the couch when I left, and the blankets and stuff were still there. But Kieran wasn't. I looked everywhere . . . there was no sign of him."
"And his car was still there," I said.
Mom looked up at me. "Yes, that's right. Nothing was missing except him, and I didn't see a note or anything. But how did you know about the car?"
I glanced at Lilly and she nodded. "Rob and Melanie are both missing under similar circumstances."
"Rob's missing too?" Mom asked, her eyes widening.
I nodded. "I just came from there." I took a deep breath. "And that's why we need to go to your place and have a look around."
"I told you, nothing's there," she said.
"When Rob and Melanie each went missing, we found Bibles inscribed by Garret." I wasn't sure how to sugarcoat it, so I didn't try. "We need to see if there's one at your house too."
"Garret?" The blood drained from Mom's face.
"I don't know who's doing this, or what this is all about," I said. "But the sheriff's calling a meeting tonight to tell everyone what's going on. We need to know if he should add Kieran to the list of people who are missing."
I watched Mom slowly pull herself together. Years of being a single parent in a big city had made her tougher than anyone else I knew. That version of my mom now came out.
"Let's go," she said.
I shook my head. "Lilly and I are going. We need you to stay here with Les."
"It's my house, Jack."
I groaned. "Please, Mom," I said. "Lilly and I know what we're looking for and we'll pass along whatever we find to the sheriff."
"You'll call me first?"
"Promise." I knew my father-in-law might not like it, but I wasn't going to leave my mom in the dark if Kieran was the third victim. Or, technically, he might've been the second and Rob the third. Which lead me to a new question, but I waited until Lilly and I were in the car before I asked it. "How did someone manage to take Rob and Kieran without any signs of a fight?"
Lilly's expression was grim. "I don't know, Jack, but whoever this person is, we need to be very worried."
"I'm way ahead of you on that," I replied, as we backed out of the driveway.
Neither one of us spoke as we drove the short distance to Mom's house. We didn't bother looking for signs of forced entry or clues that would tell us he'd wandered off. We were looking for one thing, and it didn't take us long to find it. I could see why my mom hadn't spotted it right away—the Bible was mixed in with a stack of history books that Kieran must've been reading.
I pulled on the latex gloves I'd been given at Rob's house and carefully moved the history books. I didn't know if Kieran owned a Bible, but I thought it was pretty safe to assume that this one wasn't his. I flipped open the cover and swore.
"It's him," Lilly said.
"Proverbs 26:26," I read out loud. "His wickedness will be exposed. None shall go unpunished – Garret."
Lilly let out a stream of profanity that made my eyebrows shoot up. "We gotta find this guy," she said. "Before he gets us, or worse . . . Les."
"Call your dad," I said. "He needs to get over here right away. I'll call Mom."
Lilly pulled her phone from her pocket and I took out mine.
As I listened to my mother's phone ring, I could hear Lilly filling her dad in on what we'd found. There was no answer, and my call went to voicemail. Frustrated, I hung up and tried again. If she was doing something with Les, she might not have gotten to the phone in time. When it went to voicemail the second time, an icy hand gripped my heart. "Mom, call me as soon as you get this message." I hung up and turned to Lilly.
"Dad's on his way," she said.
"We have to go home—now," I said.
"What's wrong?" she asked, running behind me to the car.
"I called twice and got voicemail both times."
"She could've been in the bathroom or doing something with Les," Lilly said. I could hear the undercurrent of tension in her voice.
"She could," I agreed. "But with everything else going on . . ." I let my voice trail off, not wanting to finish the sentence.
I broke the speed limit on the way home, and Lilly didn't say a word. That, in itself, told me just how worried she really was. I'd barely gotten the car into park before she was out the door and racing up the front steps.
The door was locked and she threw me a panicked look. We hadn't locked it when we left. Her hands were shaking so badly that I had to take the key away from her and open the door. The first thing we heard when we entered was Les crying from his playpen. A rush of relief washed over me. I took two steps inside and my foot hit something.
I looked down as Lilly raced across the room and scooped up our son. My legs gave way, and I sank to my knees in front of the Bible at my feet. Reaching down, I opened it, already knowing what I'd find.
"Those who have sinned against God will be judged," I read the words out loud as Lilly soothed Les. "'No one shall escape His wrath –– Garret.'"
I didn't need to search the house or call out. I already knew it was pointless.
My mother was gone.