"Hurry! I shouted without moving my lips as I barreled down the highway. I'd heard of backseat drivers before, but this was the first time I'd ever experienced being a backseat driver to myself. I careened through the neighborhood gateposts and tore down the road at a speed that sent trash, leaves, and a few small animals flying out of my path.
Even before I arrived at the O'Bannon residence, I could hear the alarm.
Some of the neighbors were gathered outside, huddled on the front lawn. "We tried to get in there," one of them shouted at me. "But we didn't have a key."
I didn't have a key, either, but thanks to Chief O'Bannon, I did have a gun. Three shots were enough to get the door open. I raced inside, throwing caution to the wind. I didn't have time to stealthily creep into each room, gun poised. I had to find Darcy.
"Darcy!" I shouted. "Darcy? Where are you?"
No answer.
Okay, think, I told myself. Calm down and think. Someone or something set off the alarm. So logically, he must have been here.
Or someone else was here. Or both.
I like to think of myself as an optimist, but even I couldn't kid myself that much. I knew what would happen if Esther, the cold-blooded mastermind behind half a dozen murders, were alone with Darcy, the boy who couldn't step on a spider. Darcy wouldn't stand a chance.
"Darcy!" I screeched, so loud it made my throat hurt. "Are you here?"
I knew from the time when I'd stayed here with him where all his favorite hiding spots were, nooks and crannies where he huddled when he was experiencing sensory overload. He wasn't in any of them.
I checked in the library, upstairs, downstairs, his room, the backyard. I was running at the speed of light, sending my heart into palpitations. I was certain he wasn't here. And that meant she hadn't killed him, right? Because if she had, I would have found the No. Not with this killer. She never left the corpses behind. Just pieces.
I found blood smeared on the wall about a foot off the floor in the entryway just beyond the front door. Enough to tell me someone was hurt.
Tears flooded my eyes. That goddamned The worst of it was, it was my fault. Again. Why had I brought him with me? Why had I let him come to the press conference? Why had I involved him in the case at all? Why had I been so doped up I couldn't spot a serial killer when I stared her in the face?
It was my fault, all the way. My fault.
Darcy! Esther gripped the steering wheel of her car and made her way downtown. That had been…unpleasant. But it didn't matter now. Her opportunity was at hand. She knew when she would be able to get in and out, to do what needed to be done…and then retreat and wait for the excitement to begin. The screaming of the sinners. The wailing of the worthless.
Till God came begging, crawling on His hands and knees. Begging her for forgiveness.
She parked her car just outside the courthouse. Nothing could stop her now. Nothing at all. "
Are you sure he isn't there?" Granger barked over his cell phone.
"Positive. Send your men somewhere else. Interview the neighbors. Go to the day care center where he works. Someone must know something."
"I'm concerned about the clock, Susan. If your theory is correct, that killer is going to strike-"
"Never mind that, dammit." I talked while I raced to my car. "I'm going to get back to the office and see if I can find any trace of him. Or Esther. It's possible she took him captive." I said it, even though I didn't believe it. She had no reason to do anything other than kill him. "You work the other end of the equation. Find Darcy."
"I've pulled every man available onto this, but I can't justify anything more when we think the killer is about to strike."
"Granger, goddamn it, listen to me. Darcy comes first!"
"Susan, you're not being rational. According to your own report, her next attack could be a large-scale assault. I can't justify chasing one kid-"
"If you don't, Granger, so help me, I'll rip your fucking balls off!"
"You're a psycho, Pulaski."
"Granger-" I clamped my jaw shut. How many times would I have to try this approach with Granger before I realized it didn't work? I lowered my voice. "Granger…please. This is important. To the chief and to me. Find Darcy."
"I can't-"
"Do it for me," I blurted out, even though I felt like a fool. "Please. Do it for me."
"Why the hell should I?"
"Because…I think there was a time when you liked me. At least a little. And I know you liked David."
"Don't start-"
"Please, Granger," I whispered. "Find my Darcy." I snapped the cell phone closed and slid behind the wheel of my car.
He jumped out of the backseat so suddenly that I practically had a stroke. "Am I really your Darcy?"
"Darcy! Darcy! My God, Darcy!" I couldn't help myself, and I didn't care if he liked it or not. I threw my arms around him and hugged him tight. "Darcy! Oh, thank God you're safe."
He didn't hug back, but he wasn't resisting, either. "So when you called me your Darcy, does that mean you are ready to adopt me?"
I could barely speak. "Damn it, Darcy…I'll do anything you want me to do. Just…don't ever do that again."
"Do what? Did I do something bad? Can we go back to the part where I was your Darcy?"
I laughed and cried and choked and in the end just contented myself with hugging him so tightly it might not have been possible for him to breathe. "What have you been doing? Did you see Esther?"
"Oh, yes. She tried to kill me," he said, with the same inflection I might use to say, "She tried to sell me a new life insurance policy." "But she did not kill me."
"I can see that," I said, still laughing and crying hysterically. "So where the hell have you been?"
"I went home. Then I hid in my neighbor's yard. Then, when I saw your car, I came back. And," he added, "I saw the Math Lady. But I got away."
"You-" I was fighting mightily to stay in control, keep my blood pressure down, and try to figure out what the hell happened. "But there was blood!"
"That was hers, not mine. I went home to get a book on Fibonacci numbers. Did you know that Fibonacci numbers are the most fascinating-"
"Stick to your story, Darcy."
"I knew the book by heart. But I wanted to prove it to you."
"Yes, yes. What happened when you saw the-I mean, Esther?"
"It was not a big deal," he said, shrugging. His modesty might be irritating, if I didn't know how unaware he was that he was doing anything. "When I saw her, I put some chicken wings in the microwave, but I left the aluminum foil in the box and started the oven. I knew that would start a fire." He looked down sheepishly. "Because I did it before."
"I know. I put it out, remember? What happened next?"
"I sat down on the floor and acted like I was scared and waited. A big fire came out of the oven, and the alarm went off, and I ran from the Math Lady with the knife. She shut off the microwave and put out the fire, and while she was doing it, I ran outside and hid. I did not mean to hurt her. I do not like to hurt anyone. But when I ran past her she tried to stab me so I dodged away from her and she fell and banged her forehead."
"The blood," I murmured. "Foreheads bleed profusely, even from a minor cut. But-are you telling me you went home just to get some book?"
"Yes. On Fibonacci numbers."
"And what have you been doing ever since?"
"Working out the math," he said, beaming from ear-to-ear. "I know where she's going to go next. I thought that we could stop her maybe, you and me. If we are not too late."