The detective knocked some more. He yelled again, too. Then finally…silence.
After what seemed like a very long time, Jeremy lifted his head to see the clock. Eleven-thirty. That was late. No one was supposed to be coming over during “late.” His father told him it was rude to bother people after ten o’clock.
Why was everyone being rude?
It was the fire. Because of the fire they’d keep coming and keep coming until they eventually broke down the door. They wanted to know how his father started the fire. But he didn’t! They wanted to blame it on him. Why were they coming here? Had his father hired Les Weaver again? Had Les told them that?
It was all so confusing…?.
Another fifteen minutes ticked past before Jeremy got up the nerve to climb off the bed and creep down the stairs. Was someone on the other side of the front door, listening for noises coming from inside?
The idea of that made his stomach hurt, especially when he imagined Detective Davis or Deputy Clegg at the window, watching him through the cracks in the blinds. It was easy to spy on someone. He knew because he’d been spying on Claire since he was a kid.
“Detective Davis?” He rested his forehead against the door as he waited for a response, but there wasn’t one. The detective had left. He cracked open the door, just to be sure, and saw something white flutter to the ground. When he stooped to pick it up, he realized it was a business card.
“J-Jared D-a-v-i-s. L-Lin-coln C-Coun-ty In-ves-tiga-tor.” He had to sound out the words. The note on the back was even harder to read because Detective Davis had written it in cursive.
“I have…to…t-talk to…you. It’s im-por-tant… Call me.”
The fire was important. That meant they’d keep coming back.
“What do I do?” he breathed. Tilting his head back, he stared up at the bullet hole in the wall, which suddenly seemed so big, so obvious, that he was sure anyone who walked in would see it.
He had to leave. He had to gather all his survival gear and head into the mountains. That was the only answer, the only way to avoid prison and the cuckoo place.
Even after all his planning, all his dreaming, the idea of being alone out in the wild terrified him. But if Claire wasn’t safe in Pineview, maybe she could go with him.
28
The house was finally as restored as they were going to get it, at least until the insurance kicked in to replace what had been broken, but Isaac wouldn’t hear of spending the night. He said he wouldn’t sleep anywhere he couldn’t adequately protect them.
Claire didn’t want to stay, either, but Libby was a thirty-minute drive, and it was already midnight.
“Aren’t you tired?” she asked.
“Not tired enough to close my eyes while there’s a killer running around,” he replied, and she had to admit he made a good point. She hadn’t forgotten the fire. If they stayed, whoever had tried to kill them might try again. And a fire at her place could endanger Leanne, too. Claire couldn’t even imagine how hard it would be to get her crippled sister out of a situation like the one they’d been in two nights earlier.
“You’re right.” She yawned. “But do we have to go all the way to Libby?”
“You have a better suggestion?”
“It’s summer and sort of warm. We could camp out.”
“Sorry. I don’t think sleeping under the stars would make us any less vulnerable.”
“Even if no one knows where we went?”
“I vote for the security of four walls and a locked door. I’ll drive. You can sleep in the truck.”
She felt bad about giving out on him. He had to be tired, too. But she leaned against him and dozed off almost as soon as they’d left Pineview and would’ve slept the whole way if Isaac hadn’t suddenly let up on the gas.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said.
Claire lifted her head from his shoulder. His gaze was riveted on the rearview mirror. Sitting up, she twisted around to see what was going on, but she could find no obvious reason for him to be concerned. A pair of headlights cut through the dark several car lengths behind them, but why would that be a problem? “What is it?” she asked, still groggy.
“Someone’s following us.”
The grogginess fell away. “How do you know?”
The highway was the most direct route to Libby, and it wasn’t unusual for two cars to travel in tandem for the whole thirty minutes.
“Because this is someone who never leaves Pineview.”
“You know the driver?”
“It’s Jeremy Salter.”
She twisted around again. “Are you sure?”
“A few seconds ago, he came up close enough for me to be see the make and model of the car. If that’s not his Impala it’s one that’s identical. And his is sort of distinct.”
Claire wasn’t upset by this. Jeremy had been part of her life since she could remember. His showing up actually seemed sort of fortuitous, since they’d been looking for him, anyway. They’d stopped by once more before leaving town to see if he was home yet. “He must’ve followed us when we left his house. I thought someone was there.”
“The question is…why wouldn’t he answer his door?”
“Who knows? With Jeremy, nothing’s ever very clear.” Except his devotion to her, which was a constant she’d often felt she could live without. “Does he want us to pull over?”
“He hasn’t flashed his lights or done anything else to indicate that.”
She thought of all the small gifts he’d brought her over the years, how excited he was to have her cut his hair, how he seemed to appear almost everywhere she went. “Pull over. Let’s see what’s going on.”
“Not yet. I want to wait until we get to Libby, just in case.”
“In case he’s dangerous?” she asked. “Jeremy wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“In case it’s someone else, someone who might not be as harmless. His father could be driving his car.”
It could easily be Don. She’d seen him behind the wheel of Jeremy’s Impala at Joe’s place, hadn’t she?
“This is so weird,” she murmured, and waited nervously through the next fifteen minutes, until they reached Libby.
All the businesses were closed, but Isaac found a well-lit service station and pulled in. “Hand me my gun.” He’d stuck it under the seat so it wouldn’t be in the way and she could sleep against him.
Claire did as he asked, then watched her side mirror as the Impala pulled in behind them. “Is it Jeremy?”
“Yeah.”
She let her breath go in relief, but Isaac didn’t put his gun away. He waited until Jeremy got out and they could see that he was unarmed.
Isaac lowered his window, but Jeremy trudged up to her side instead. Claire wasn’t surprised.
“Claire, I’m so glad I found you.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “What are you doing out so late and so far from home?”
He ignored Isaac just like he had at Hank’s. “Something’s happened. Something terrible. I have to leave Pine view. It’s not safe there. You can’t go back, either.”
“What are you talking about?”
“My father’s missing. Just like your mother.”
She wasn’t sure whether or not to take him seriously. “What do you mean…missing?”
He scratched his big head, seemed to struggle with the answer. “He’s gone.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been waiting for him, but he doesn’t come home. I haven’t talked to him in days.”