by Sara Shepard
Suddenly, the other line bleated. Maddox’s stomach lurched when he saw the number on the screen: Brett.
“Thomas, we’ll call you back,” Seneca said nervously. She switched to Brett’s call. “What?” she answered sharply, putting the call on speaker.
“Well?” Brett asked.
“Well what?” Seneca countered.
“Do you have something to tell me yet?”
“No.”
“You’re lying,” Brett spat. “I know you know. You’ve stopped. You know, and you’re not letting me in on it—and that’s not our agreement.”
“Dude, we’re not sure about anything yet.” Maddox felt annoyed at Brett’s hurry-up mentality. Just let us do our job, dude. The day isn’t over yet.
“If you’re lying, all bets are off. You know that, right?”
Maddox turned to Seneca, expecting her to freak out, but she’d gone silent, her eyes wide, her lips pursed. It was her Thinking Face. She barely registered when Brett hung up.
Maddox touched her arm. “What is it?”
Seneca’s brow furrowed. “There was something weird about Brett’s voice, don’t you think? He sounded less clear than usual—more like he did when he called us the very first time. There was a lot of whooshing. I think he’s in a car.”
“Okay…”
“So where is he driving to? Where’s Aerin? And did you hear how he said you’ve stopped? How does he know we’re not moving?” She looked up, startled. “Do you think he can see us? Do you think he’s tracking us somehow?”
Maddox’s skin started to crawl. It had definitely been weird that Brett had so confidently guessed that they’d been at the Lords’. He’d guessed that they’d spoken to Viola before they’d volunteered the information, too. Was he tracking them?
He turned to Madison. “Could Brett do that?”
Madison twisted her mouth. “He could triangulate us during a phone call in the same way we tried to triangulate him. There’s also software on the darkweb that puts a bug on someone else’s phone they’ve been in contact with, so they can follow them at all times. But that’s illegal and full of viruses. I wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.”
“Yeah, but Brett would,” Seneca said. She looked down in dismay. “Brett’s been contacting my phone. Meaning I’m the one he’s tracking.” She quickly turned her phone off and put it on the dashboard, as though even holding it would give Brett a clue about where they were. “And now he knows we’re in Breezy Sea. I led him right to us.”
“Even if it’s true, it’s not your fault,” Maddox said quickly. He peered out the window, though all he could see were the tops of the other cars in the lot. “We can’t let him find the house before we do. Otherwise he’ll have no reason to give Aerin back.”
He moved to jump out of the car, but Madison caught his arm. “Wait. If Brett is tracking Seneca’s phone by GPS, then maybe we can trick him and buy some time.” She reached over and turned the Jeep’s ignition. “Let’s drive to another lot, turn Seneca’s phone back on, and leave it in the front seat. Then we’ll walk back to Sea Tern to find the house. If Brett’s really tracking Seneca, he’ll come to the phone, not to us.”
“Good idea,” Seneca said shakily. Then she cocked her head. “Should one of us stay at the lot, then, in case he does show up? Maybe you, Maddox?”
“No freaking way,” Maddox said quickly.
“But—” Seneca protested.
“No,” Maddox pleaded. “Seneca, it’s not smart. We have to stay together.”
Seneca glanced at Madison for her opinion. She looked torn. “I see your point, but I think there’s safety in numbers. There’s no way I want to be in a parking lot, even a public one, with that creep all alone.”
Maddox pulled out of the lot. He found another parking area several blocks down the beach. It was equally packed, and he had an even harder time finding a spot, finally squeezing between the public bathroom and a humungous GMC that was taking up two spaces. He turned the car off, switched Seneca’s phone on again, and dropped it on his seat. Hopefully, their plan would work for a while. But Brett was smart. He’d figure it out soon enough.
They headed back to Sea Tern Lane on foot. The day was blisteringly hot—a half block in, sweat started to pour down Maddox’s back as though he’d just run the 800 at top speed. The first house had several cars with Pennsylvania license plates in the driveway and seemed large enough to sleep twenty people. The second and third houses were just as opulent, with three stories, multiple decks, and pimped-out golf carts, off-road vehicles, and boats in the driveways—Maddox couldn’t imagine Candace hiding in one of those. But one house stuck out like a sore thumb: It was a faded, unkempt yellow, way smaller than the others, and looked abandoned.
Maybe? Maddox thought, peering into its windows.
“Is this it?” Seneca whispered.
Maddox turned. To his surprise, she wasn’t looking at the yellow place but a large gray two-story across the street. It looked in better shape than the yellow one did, with a nicely manicured rock garden out front and a bicycle propped up against the garage.
“Look.” She pointed to heavy wind chimes swinging from the front porch. “Those were at the place where Brett was held, too. And there’s a shed in the back.”
Maddox shivered despite the heat. The shades were all closed, so there was no way of seeing what was happening inside. So they would watch and wait, then? He looked around for somewhere they could take cover. There was no way they could just stand here, staring—what if Brett drove by and noticed? But all the yards were gravel-topped no-man’s-lands.
Then he spied a speedboat covered with a blue tarp parked in the driveway next door. “If we climb in there, we’ll be able to watch the house without anyone seeing,” he murmured, pointing at it.
Madison looked at him like he was crazy. “What happens when the owner comes out?” She gestured to the cable that hitched the boat to an SUV. “Or what if they drive away with us inside?”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“I do.” Seneca walked up to Candace’s door. “We’re going to ring the bell.”
“Are you crazy?” He grabbed her shoulder. “Candace won’t just open the door for you!”
Seneca rounded on him. “Don’t you remember what Brett told us? She mentioned Brett to all the neighbors. Pretended to be a normal mom. Damien might be in hiding in there, but she isn’t. She knows what will arouse suspicion.” She wrenched from his grasp and started up the path again. “We’ll say we’re a cleaning crew. Or anything, really. Just so she opens the door and we see that it’s her.”
“But…” Maddox protested.
“We have to do something,” Seneca argued over her shoulder. “Aerin’s life is at stake, Maddox. We can’t just wait around!”
Suddenly, there was a loud clonk. They pivoted just as a large rock thudded to the ground against the house in question’s front siding. Madison was brushing off her hands and stepping back. “What?” she asked, noticing the shocked looks on their faces.
“Did you just throw a rock at her house?” Maddox cried.
Madison nodded. “A commotion might get Candace out on the porch, too.”
“Then we need to get out of here!” Maddox hissed, darting toward the boat next door. The last thing he wanted was for Candace to see them in the yard—then she’d know something was up.
They crouched behind the boat, relishing its cool shadow. A car whooshed past playing rap music; the driver thankfully didn’t notice them. Someone’s laugh spiraled from an open window. Maddox’s heart thudded in his ears. Finally, the front door of the house in question opened. A woman with big droopy eyes, sunken cheeks, and thin lips stepped onto the porch and looked around, trying to figure out the source of the sound. Despite her haggardness, her features matched the pictures in the Lords’ living room.
Candace.
Maddox gasped. Seneca made a gurgling throat sound. Madison clapped a hand over her mouth. It was ast
onishing that she was here, that this was real. As they watched, Candace frowned, grumbled, and then stepped back inside and slammed the door.
“Holy shit, holy shit,” Madison whispered, shaking out her hands.
Prickles were dancing across Maddox’s body. “We have to get out of here. If Brett’s close, we can’t risk him seeing us standing right in front of this house.”
“Back to the parking lot.” Seneca slipped out from behind the boat and started to run. “Then we call Brett. We have to play this just right.”
Maddox started to run, too. His head was churning. His heart was pounding fast. We’ve done it, he thought gleefully. They were going to get Aerin back. This nightmare was going to be over. But suddenly, in the calm, humid quiet, Maddox’s phone started to ring. He turned it over and looked down at the screen in horror.
Now Brett was calling him.
BRETT GNASHED HIS teeth as he pressed his phone to his ear. He was so angry he thought he might grind his teeth to pulp. Moments ago, he’d followed Seneca’s blinking GPS dot to a parking lot near the beach in Breezy Sea. When he’d seen Maddox’s Jeep parked there—and it had been a bitch to find, with all the freaking cars in the lot—he’d been thrilled. Well, well, well. His little tracker hadn’t failed him. And now that he’d found where they’d stopped, he didn’t need their help any longer—he’d figure out which house they were spying on and raid it on his own. He’d get his cake—Elizabeth—and eat it, too—Aerin.
So he’d crouched behind the putrid-smelling public bathroom, out of their line of sight, forming a plan. If the group was parked here, it probably meant they were watching a house nearby. He’d looked around. There was a house directly across the street from the parking lot, but there were towels hanging from a clothesline and a teenage girl talking on the phone on the upper deck. Definitely not Elizabeth’s place. The house behind that one was also filled with a family, and the one beyond that had three surfboards stacked on a station wagon in the driveway. Those were the only two properties visible from the parking lot.
Huh.
Brett stared hard at the Jeep once more, his nose wrinkling at the stupid New Balance bumper sticker on the back. It took him only a split second to realize something strange. There weren’t any shadows moving inside the windows. Brett blinked and squinted hard. The Jeep was…empty.
He sucked in a breath, then stepped closer. Nope. Not a single person inside. He peered through the windshield, careful not to leave any prints on the body. A cell phone lay faceup on the driver’s seat. It was Seneca’s phone—Brett remembered her mint-green case from when he’d fiddled with it in Avignon. She’d left it behind on purpose. To trick him.
He swallowed a scream. Just go, he told himself. Get out of here. Take Aerin. They’ve screwed you one too many times.
But the need to find Elizabeth taunted him. He decided to give them one more chance. And now he was calling Maddox. The phone rang once, then twice; Brett could feel his blood pressure climb with every passing second. If they don’t answer, they’re going to pay.
“Hello?” Maddox finally said.
Brett fumbled to bring the phone to his ear. For a moment, he was so blindly pissed, he couldn’t even speak. “You really think you’re going to outsmart me?”
“I…”
“Where are you? I need an address, now. I know you’re right in front of it. The rules have changed.”
“Wait.” Now it was Seneca on the line. “We have the address, but there’s no way we’re giving it to you unless you give us Aerin. End of story.”
Brett felt like the top of his head might pop off his skull. No. No. He wasn’t giving up Aerin. The perfect outcome was one in which he pulled Aerin out of the trunk after this was over. She’d be sick from the heat and the close quarters, but he’d lay her on the backseat, put a cool washcloth on her forehead, and shush her to sleep. They’d drive and drive, maybe returning to where they’d been, or maybe going somewhere else. The sky would be the limit. He’d be free to go wherever he pleased once Elizabeth wasn’t a millstone around his neck.
But the only way to get Elizabeth was to let go of that fantasy. Brett shut his eyes, despising that they’d cornered him. Still, it only took him a few moments to reach his decision.
“Fine,” he grumbled. “Meet me on the boardwalk. Take the ramp in the lot where your car’s parked.” At this point, he didn’t care that they knew he’d tracked them. “I’ll be in the fun house. But if you’re not here in ten minutes, you’ll never see us again.”
SENECA AND THE others had stopped on the corner next to a big sign marking Sea Tern and Ocean Drive. Over the dunes, she could see the roller coaster tracks dipping and winding. Another ride rumbled, and people screamed joyfully. Something dinged at the arcade.
He’s there, she thought with horror, staring at all the flashing and whooshing and flapping flags. Brett is right. Over. There.
“The fun house?” Madison whispered, her head tilted toward the boardwalk, too. “Are you kidding me?”
“Should we actually do what he wants?” Maddox asked.
“I don’t see another way.” Seneca rolled her shoulders back and hit the WALK button one more time. Finally, the light changed to green, and they crossed, their flip-flops smacking noisily against the pavement. Every few steps, Seneca thought she might faint. This was happening. Really happening. In mere minutes, she was going to see Brett. How was she going to control herself? How was she going to keep from pommeling him?
You have to, she told herself. Do what he asks, and we’ll get Aerin. Maybe we’ll get him, too.
They wove around a few beach stragglers pushing large carts full of chairs and toys up from the sand. Seneca’s nerves felt as prickly as the small cacti that lined the path. She cleared her throat. “Is anyone else waiting for the other shoe to drop? Brett seems surprised for once. He’s never agreed to our terms before.”
“And that makes you nervous?” Maddox asked.
“Maybe,” Seneca admitted. Things were never as they seemed with Brett—this might feel like a win, but there could be a twist in store. It felt like they were walking into a lion’s mouth, its sharp teeth bared, its stomach rumbling.
Madison fanned her face. “Should we call the police? Maybe tell them what’s going on, give them Candace’s address? I hate for Brett to just go in there, guns blazing. What if he hurts Damien?”
Seneca had thought about that, too. “I’m afraid Brett will figure it out. He plans for every eventuality. What if he sees it on our faces and doesn’t give us Aerin?”
“Let’s just see what we’re getting into first,” Maddox decided.
They turned to the right, where the boardwalk began. People were gathered in clumps along the wide wooden slats, laughing, flirting, milling around the junky shops. Colors swirled, the scent of burned popcorn singed Seneca’s nostrils, and the noisy arcade bloops were almost too overwhelming to bear. They walked past a strip of rides, all the stimuli blending together, everyone’s faces looking shadowed and macabre in the dying light. Then Seneca peered woozily past a busy hot dog stand whose great distinction was that they made the “biggest hot dog in all of Breezy Sea.” A large building next to it bore a mural of a hulking, ominous clown crouching over a set of double doors. The clown rested his hands on his knees in a lurking, Sumo sort of pose; his eyebrows were arched, his grin was nasty, and at that very moment, a little girl in pigtails was pointing at him and shrieking in terror. Written along the sides of the doors in dripping fluorescent-yellow paint read the words Fun House.
Seneca’s heart dropped to her knees.
Madison shakily extended a finger. “Have I ever mentioned that I am deathly, deathly afraid of clowns?”
They wended toward the entrance, ducking around families and teenagers and a man who was inexplicably wearing a Scream mask. Haunting, maniacal laughter wafted from a speaker positioned just above the clown’s pointed hat. Seneca stared through the fun house’s doors, but it was so dark inside she ha
d no idea what she was walking into. She grabbed for Maddox’s hand and squeezed it hard. She wondered if he could feel her pulse in her fingers as he squeezed back. Brett’s in there, her head kept hammering. He’s right there.
“Let’s do this,” Maddox said through gritted teeth.
They forged into the fun house. It was cooler inside—and clammier, too, so much so that Seneca felt like she’d broken into a cold sweat. The first room was oddly narrow and strangely bright, with striped walls, slanted checkerboard floors, and a ceiling that tilted upward the farther into it they walked. The Gravity Room, read a plaque on the wall. They all sidestepped precariously across. The blaring, awful laugh track seemed to be on repeat, and Seneca found herself casting desperate, trapped glances at the others. Where was Brett? Was this a trick?
They passed through a second doorway and entered a room full of mirrors. Seneca stopped, disoriented. The Seneca in the mirror mimicked her movements, but that girl was warped, widened, and stretched. Then a splash of blond hair across the room caught her eye, and she spun around. Someone was lurking around a bend. Maybe two someones. She sucked in a humid breath.
“There,” she whispered to the others.
She hurried across the floor, dozens of versions of herself streaming along like colorful ribbons. When she reached the corner, she saw a brown-haired guy in a black T-shirt and black shorts reflected in the mirror. Her heart stopped. Brett looked like anyone—not menacing, not evil. He stood casually, one foot propped against the wall. One arm was wrapped around a tall girl in a black hoodie, her blond hair spilling down her shoulders.
Aerin.
Seneca pressed her hand to her mouth. Brett whipped around, his reflection spying hers. Their eyes met in the mirror. The corner of Brett’s mouth curled up in a smirk. A sizzle traveled up Seneca’s spine. For a moment, she could only gawk. She couldn’t believe he’d made good on his promise. Actually, she couldn’t believe Brett was here at all, real. After all this time, she’d sort of mythologized him into a demon, an evil, otherworldly creature. There was something aggressive about the way he had his arm wrapped around Aerin’s waist. When Aerin saw the group, she let out a pained cry, but Brett tightened his grip and she stopped.