When

by Victoria Laurie

  “Are you sure now?” I asked, crossing my fingers.

  He shut the file, but I could tell immediately that he wasn’t going to give in quite that easy. Pointing to the file again he said, “Like I said, Maddie, I’m going to give that to your uncle. He’ll file a motion to have the case against Schroder kicked out for lack of evidence, and while he’s doing that, we’ll have a talk with the DA and tell him not to fight it.”

  It was a long time before I could say anything. At last I stood up and whispered, “Thank you, Agent Faraday. Thank you very much.”

  “Don’t thank me, Maddie. Until we catch this guy, we’ll continue to keep an eye on both you and Schroder.”

  I pressed my lips together and looked at the floor. “Okay. I guess that’s fair.”

  There was a knock on Faraday’s door, and I lifted my chin to see Agent Wallace standing there with his coat on and a somber expression. “We got another missing kid, Mack.”

  Faraday paled. “When?”

  Wallace glanced warily at me but kept talking. “Call just came in. A thirteen-year-old from Poplar Hollow was supposed to meet his mother at their house at three fifteen for a doctor’s appointment. Kid never showed and was last seen leaving school about ten minutes before three.”

  Faraday glanced at his watch. “It’s only twenty after four,” he said. “Is she sure he didn’t just forget?”

  “The kid asked his teacher if he could leave class five minutes early so he could make it home in time. The mom started calling his phone over and over, and then she went out to look for him. She said she heard his ringtone and found his cell on the sidewalk—but no sign of him.”

  “Name?” Faraday asked.

  “Nathan Murphy.”

  I sucked in a breath.

  “You know him?” Faraday and Wallace both asked me.

  “Sort of,” I said. “I used to babysit for his little brother.”

  Faraday stood and eyed me keenly. “You remember his deathdate, Maddie?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t. But I don’t think I ever met him. I mean, I only babysat for the family when Nathan couldn’t watch his little brother.”

  Faraday got up and grabbed his coat from the hook in the corner of the room. “Call your uncle. Tell him that we’ll want to talk to the two of you in a few hours.”

  I started to shake my head. “It wasn’t me! I’ve been here the whole time, Agent Faraday!”

  He shrugged into his coat and put a hand on my shoulder. “I know. Go home for now and tell your uncle that we’ll need to see you in a couple of hours, and he should be present. I’ll call him with the time.”

  And with that, Faraday and Wallace swept out of the room.

  Donny was so furious with me that he hung up in the middle of the conversation. He arrived at the house red-faced and still so angry that I didn’t know if I should let him inside. “Open the door!” he yelled from the back step.

  I took a deep breath and undid the lock. He barreled in and gripped me by the shoulders. “Do you know what you’ve done?” he roared. “How could you have gone down there without me?”

  I waited while Donny paced back and forth in the kitchen, yelling about how anything I said to Faraday could be used against me, and how I’d now be lucky if he could keep me out of jail, and how I’d likely jeopardized Stubby’s freedom, too…and then his cell rang. “What?” he snapped, not even bothering to look at the caller ID.

  His expression changed within half a minute as he listened to the caller. “Thanks for calling, Barb. That’s great news.” He hung up and tapped his chin with the phone, his eyes faraway until he turned his gaze back to me, but now he didn’t appear at all angry—merely stunned. “What did you say to them?”

  “Nothing, Donny, I swear. I just had Faraday test me.”

  Donny scratched his head. “Yeah, well that must’ve been a hell of a test, Maddie, because that was the assistant DA. She’s dropping the case against Arnold. He’ll be free to go after they process the paperwork, which should be sometime tomorrow.”

  I felt a smile burst onto my face, and I was about to rush forward to hug Donny when his phone rang again. This time he squinted at the caller ID before answering. “Donny Fynn,” he said crisply.

  I waited through the short call to learn that it was Faraday. He was ready to meet and wanted us to come down to the bureau offices as soon as possible. Donny told him he’d be there as soon as he could.

  “What do you think they want?” I asked.

  “Faraday didn’t give me any specifics except to say that he thought we could help.”

  “Do you think it’s a trap?” I asked, more because Donny looked very worried than because I didn’t trust Faraday. The truth was, after sitting with him in his office and seeing that he’d been true to his word about telling the DA to drop the case against Stubby, I thought I could finally trust the agent.

  “A trap?” Donny repeated. “I’m not sure, kiddo, but if you don’t want to go, we won’t. It’s up to you.”

  I thought about it for a minute before I made up my mind. “Let’s go. But if you think they want to try and trap me, don’t let me talk.”

  Donny eyed me through half-lidded eyes. “Like that’s worked so well before.”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I had to, though, Donny. Stubby really needed my help, and I was the one who got him into this mess in the first place.”

  Donny sighed and came over to give me a brief hug. “For the record, Maddie, you didn’t get anyone into this mess. Stubby decided all on his own to go see Payton. And if I recall, you told me you even tried to warn him about contacting her.”

  “It’s still not his fault,” I replied stubbornly.

  Donny eyed me soberly. “It’s not yours, either.”

  We made it to the bureau offices before six. Donny had called Mrs. Schroder on the way over, and I’d heard her happy sobs through the phone. Donny promised her to have his office call the jail and hound them until Stubby was released the next day. “I’ll try and get it expedited as quickly as I can, Mary Anne.”

  When Donny hung up I realized he was a little emotional, too. For such a tough guy, my uncle had a really sweet soft spot.

  We met Faraday and Wallace in Faraday’s office. They motioned for us to sit, and then Faraday took out a photograph and slid it toward me. It was a picture of a kid a couple of years younger than me with light blond hair and hazel eyes. I didn’t recognize his face, but I knew I must be staring at Nathan Murphy.

  “This is weird,” I said, looking up at the agents.

  “What?” Faraday said.

  “You want me to tell you if he’s dead, right?”

  Faraday nodded, and after a quick glance at Donny—who nodded, too—I said, “His deathdate isn’t until July twelfth, twenty seventy-seven.”

  They both seemed surprised. “Then where is he?” Wallace asked.

  Donny sat forward, probably sensing a trap, but I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  Wallace frowned. “I thought you were psychic?”

  I sighed because I’d been through this with him before. The whole thing had such a weird déjà vu quality about it, except for the fact that Nathan was going to live another sixty or so years. “I can only see his deathdate. Nothing else.”

  Wallace’s frown deepened. “Do you get anything off the photograph?” he pressed.

  “What else would she get off it?” Donny snapped. “She’s already told you the only thing she can see is his deathdate.”

  Wallace got defensive. “Hey, man, she’s the one that wants us to believe she’s got these abilities, not me, and how the hell am I supposed to know how all this freaky-deaky stuff works?”

  “You’re the ones calling us to the table!” Donny shot back. “She’s been honest with you from the start, and all you did was throw her best friend in jail and put her under the microscope for the past couple of weeks. The least you could do is to have a little respect for her abilities, Agent Wallace.”

 
Faraday held up his hands in a time-out gesture. “Hey!” he said sternly. “Can we agree to play nice for the remainder of the interview?”

  Donny and Wallace both shut up, settling for glaring hard at each other.

  Faraday looked from one to the other as if to make sure there’d be no more outbursts, then he focused on me. “See, the thing of it is, Maddie, we’re pretty sure Nathan was abducted. A woman walking her dog said she thought she heard a kid yelling, and turned to see a man hurrying to get into a pickup truck and drive away at a high rate of speed. She didn’t put it together until a neighbor told her that a kid two blocks over was missing.”

  I sat forward. “A pickup truck?” A cold prickle began to snake its way up my spine.

  “Yeah,” Faraday said. “Why? Does that mean something to you?”

  My mind flashed to all those incidents when I’d seen a dark pickup truck follow me or drive down my street.

  “What is it?” Donny asked, and I realized I hadn’t spoken in a few seconds.

  “A couple of weeks ago when I was out looking for Ma, a pickup truck chased me into the park, then the driver tried to cut me off at the other end, but I got away.”

  Donny nearly came all the way out of his chair. “When was this?” he demanded. I could see the fear on his face, and I wished I’d told him sooner.

  “About three weeks ago.”

  “Did you see the driver?” Wallace asked, but my mind drifted to another incident with what I was sure was the same vehicle.

  “No, but then I think I saw the truck again about a week later.”

  Faraday pulled a yellow pad out of the drawer of his desk and took up a pen. “Where?”

  “It drove down my street.”

  “Did you get a plate number?”

  I shook my head. “I was never close enough to read it.”

  Faraday continued to scribble as he asked me, “What color was the truck?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t really know. Every time I saw it, it was night. I think it might’ve been dark gray? But what I remember most was that it had this loud engine.”

  “That fits with what the witness told us,” Wallace said.

  Faraday looked up at me from his notes. “Are those the only two times you’ve seen this truck, Maddie?”

  I shrugged. “Yes?”

  “You don’t sound sure,” Faraday said.

  I sighed. “The truth is that I don’t know, sir. I mean, this past weekend I thought I saw the same truck on my street.”

  “What day and what time?”

  “Saturday, around four A.M.”

  “Jesus!” Donny hissed, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. I had a feeling I was going to get another lecture later.

  Faraday tapped the pen against the pad of paper. “You know what I don’t like?” he said to me.

  I squirmed. Did he think I was lying?

  “I don’t like that three of these victims seem to have a sort of loose connection to you, Maddie, and now we learn there’s been a mysterious truck cruising by your house and stalking you at the park.”

  Donny opened his mouth to protest, but Faraday held up his hand. “I’m not accusing her, counselor. I’m trying to tell you someone seems to have a fascination with your niece.”

  I felt a chill run through me. “Maddie,” Faraday continued, “do you think you might know this guy?”

  I shook my head, thinking he believed I knew who was abducting and killing these kids. “No, sir!”

  “When did you say you babysat for Nathan’s younger brother?” Faraday asked next, and I could tell he hadn’t given up chasing the lead.

  “Last summer. But it was only a couple of times, and then I went to Florida with Uncle Donny, and school started after that so I didn’t have time to sit for them anymore.”

  “Did you know Rob Carter? Or anyone related to him?”

  Again I shook my head. “No. I swear.”

  Wallace scooted his chair forward. “Have you met anyone recently who’s given you the creeps?” he asked. “Or anybody who might be upset with you? Like a client who didn’t get the news they were hoping for?”

  I opened my mouth to say no, but then I really thought about it. “Actually, there’re a couple of people.”

  Faraday’s brow rose. “A couple?”

  “Yeah. It’s been a rough few weeks with this investigation and stuff.”

  Faraday hovered his pen over his pad of paper. “Can you give me their names, Maddie?”

  A sideways glance at Donny told me it was okay. “Well, for one, there’s this really creepy teacher at school. He drives a pickup truck, too.”

  “Who?” Faraday pressed.

  “Mr. Chavez. He’s my math teacher and he walks me to fifth period every day, but he’s always right on my heels when we walk down the halls, like he wants to make me feel uncomfortable. And sometimes I hear him mutter mean things about me under his breath.”

  “Hold on,” Wallace said, leaning forward himself. “He walks you to fifth period? Why would a teacher escort you to class?”

  Donny cleared his throat. “Maddie had some trouble at school from both the students and the administration ever since word got out that you guys searched her home in connection with the murders of Payton and Tevon.”

  “Ah,” said Faraday, and I could tell that made him feel a little bit bad. “You say his name is Chavez?”

  I nodded. “Last week I heard him mutter something about being ticked off at me for getting Principal Harris fired.”

  “You got the principal fired?” Wallace repeated again.

  Donny held up his hand. “For the record, she didn’t get the principal fired. The superintendent looked into the matter of Maddie being bullied, and found Principal Harris culpable. He may have even encouraged the abuse.”

  Faraday’s eyes darkened and he turned to me. “He did?”

  I squirmed. “I think Harris really thought I was guilty. You know, ’cause you guys came to the school to interrogate me in his office, and then you arrested my best friend, and the news said that Stubby might’ve had a female accomplice.”

  Faraday sighed and made a note. “Do you know what kind of car Harris drives?”

  “A black SUV,” I said. “I also saw him drive by my house last week.”

  Donny’s face turned crimson. “Please be kidding,” he said.

  I shook my head. I was certain I’d seen him that same night I went out on the front porch to think and get the mail.

  “Are Chavez and Harris friends?” Faraday asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly.

  “Do either of them smoke?” Wallace asked.

  I recalled the smell of nicotine on Mr. Chavez’s breath as he walked me to class. “I think Mr. Chavez does.”

  Faraday made a few more notes before flipping the page. “Anyone else giving you trouble, Maddie? Or just these two?”

  “There’s Mario Rossi and Eric Anderson,” Donny suggested before I had a chance to answer.

  “Who’re they?” Faraday asked as he scribbled fast.

  “Two kids at Maddie’s school who roughed her up in a stairwell. They’ve been suspended.”

  Faraday’s hand paused when Donny said the words roughed up. He then pressed his lips together and without looking up he asked, “Any idea what kind of car they drive?”

  I thought back. “Mario sometimes drives his mom’s Jeep to school. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Eric driving a car.”

  “Anyone else?” Faraday said, his hand once again skipping across the page.

  I thought about Cathy and Mike. They were always giving me a hard time, but I seriously doubted either of them was capable of murder. And then someone else came to mind. “Well, there was Mr. Kelly’s son,” I said, recalling an angry phone call Ma had taken after I’d met with Mr. Kelly, the man with pancreatic cancer. “Ma got a call from him and he said that he was super mad at me for convincing his dad that there was no hope.”

  “W
hy the hell didn’t you tell me this, Maddie?” Donny barked. I could tell he was getting really upset that he knew only half of what’d been going on with me.

  “He called before any of this started,” I said, feeling my cheeks redden. “And mostly he yelled at Ma and hung up. He thought I’d talked his dad out of getting treatment to help fight the cancer.”

  “Did you?” Wallace asked.

  That took me by surprise and put me on the defensive. “No!”

  Wallace shrugged, like he didn’t care if he’d offended me or not. “Okay, if you say so.”

  I glared at him and turned away. “Is there anybody else?” Faraday asked, when the room fell into uncomfortable silence.

  I briefly entertained the idea of mentioning the creepy furniture delivery guy, Wes, but discarded it. He might’ve rattled me with his leers, but I didn’t think he was especially interested in me. He probably looked at most women like that. Plus, Wallace had really put me off with his comment and his attitude, so I shook my head.

  Faraday made a final note and said, “Thanks, Maddie. We’ll check all this out and be in touch.”

  NATHAN MURPHY WAS FOUND AT TWO A.M. I couldn’t sleep and heard Donny’s phone go off. Tiptoeing to the doorway of my bedroom, I listened to Donny on the phone with someone, and then I heard the floorboards creak when he got out of bed. “Did I wake you?” he asked, seeing me in the doorway.

  “I heard your phone.”

  Donny still had it in his hand. “Sorry,” he said. “They found Nathan in the woods.”

  I stiffened. How had I been wrong? His deathdate had been right on his forehead like everyone else’s. How had I misread it?

  Donny yawned and rubbed his face. “He’s alive, but he was hit hard enough over the head to fracture his skull. He was disoriented and fighting off hypothermia when somebody in one of the nearby houses heard him crying for help. They’ve got him at the hospital, but his brain is starting to swell and they had to put him into a medically induced coma. That was Faraday on the phone. He thought we should know.”

  I realized I’d been holding my breath, and I let the air out of my lungs in a rush. “He’ll make it,” I assured Donny, who grinned sideways at me.