“Chloe?” she called. Silence.
Reed shone his light around, picking up cobwebs and dead leaves accumulated in the corners. He saw a muddy boot print on the floor, but he couldn’t say when it had been left there. At the back, he found an actual wooden door. It might have led to the furnace room. He tugged, but it held fast. Not locked, he realized, but swollen shut from the humidity. “I’ve got something,” he said to Ellery. She appeared at his side to help him tug on the door. With both their weight, it lurched free, sending them stumbling backward.
The scent of urine coming from the room hit him hard. Ellery grabbed up her flashlight and he blurted, “Wait.” Just a few more seconds and there would be no denying what was on the other side.
Ellery reached the threshold and let out a horrified gasp. He braced himself as he looked over her shoulder. There in the corner was the cage from the picture, the door hanging open. Inside on the floor lay a small figure with blond hair, curled up and motionless. She had a plastic bag over her head. “Chloe,” Ellery called as she rushed over to her. “Oh God, no.” She fell to her knees, the flashlight going off-kilter as she grabbed up the girl from the cage. “It’s not real,” she said with utter relief. “It’s a mannequin.”
“What?”
“It’s a doll. Look.” She hauled out the mannequin to show him and he could see the face was painted on.
“What’s that?” Reed used his flashlight beam to point out another white card on the floor of the cage. Ellery pushed aside the doll to snatch it up. There was no name attached.
She opened the envelope to reveal a plain white index card inside. “‘Tell Teresa she’s too late.’”
Detective Osborne came thundering down the stairs with a pair of officers hot on his heels. “What’ve you got?”
“She’s not here!” Reed called out.
Osborne stuck his head into the room and made a face at the smell. “What’s that?” he asked, shining his light on the mannequin. Reed noticed for the first time that the doll was dressed in the pink shirt and denim shorts Chloe had been wearing when she disappeared.
“It’s a doll made up to look like Chloe,” Ellery said.
“Jeez, he’s a crazy fucker, isn’t he?”
“We’re going to need another forensic team to go through this place,” said Reed. “Maybe we can find something to indicate where he’s taken her next.”
“What, like a scavenger hunt?” Osborne asked, incredulous. “Follow the clues, find the prize?”
Ellery jumped to her feet at his words. “Yes,” she said. “Exactly.” She dashed out of the room without further explanation, so Reed had to chase after her.
“Where are you going?” he asked as she went back out of the house toward her SUV. It was still running with its lights on.
“I’m going to find Bobby Frick.”
“He could be anywhere.” Lisa had listed three usual locations for him: his home, his work, and the great outdoors. New England had thousands of acres of forest and mountain territory in which to disappear.
“That picture he had in his locker—I recognize the rock bridge. It’s the same one that’s visible in the shot he took with Lisa back at his apartment. That means the place must have special meaning for him, right?”
“Probable, yes,” he said, admiring her insight. “We could ask Lisa where the picture was taken.”
“We don’t have to. I know it. It’s Marble Arch Park out in western Massachusetts. Bump and I used to go hiking there sometimes when I lived in Woodbury.” She climbed into the car and waved him along impatiently. “Are you coming?”
He glanced back at the house, torn. “We should take backup.”
“Not them. Someone has to stay here for the forensic team. We can radio for more help on the road.”
Convinced, he climbed in with her. “Then let’s go.”
29
Near midnight, the slow roll of Ellery’s tires crunched over the grit and bits of gravel that comprised the parking lot for Marble Arch. Moonlight shone on the wet leaves, the air heavy with humidity. She felt the hair curling at the back of her neck as she got out of the car. “Look at that,” she said, nodding in the direction of a white van at the end of the lot. It sported Rhode Island plates and was the only other vehicle nearby.
She and Reed approached from the rear, crouching to avoid being seen in the mirrors in case anyone was inside. Reed pulled out his phone to run the plates while Ellery slid alongside the van up to the driver’s-side door. “Nothing visible here.” She tried the handle and found it unlocked. The inside smelled like cigarettes and fried food. She found a cheeseburger wrapper on the floor and a soda bottle in the cupholder.
“The van is stolen,” Reed reported from outside. “It was reported two days ago.”
Ellery released the lock on the van’s rear doors and went around to open them. “This is definitely him,” she said, shining her flashlight into the cargo space. “There’s the missing camera.”
“Not to mention a half-dozen burner phones and a roll of duct tape.” Reed trained his light on the inside of the door. “Is that blood?”
Ellery leaned in to inspect the red-brown smear. “Yes, I think so. Already dried.”
Reed turned to look at the vast swath of trees behind them. “We’re going to need a search team.”
“Good, call them.” She started for the path.
“Ellery, wait.” He jogged after her. “There’s ten thousand acres in there, with no light.”
“I have a light.” She waved her flashlight at him and continued heading for the head of the trail. “We can’t wait. You said it yourself—he’s suicidal, and from the looks of things, he wants to take Chloe with him.”
“I know you want to find her, but—”
She halted and whirled on him, aiming the light right in his eyes. “When you found Coben’s farmhouse, did you stop to call for backup?”
He shielded his face with one hand. “You know I didn’t.” A dozen movie and TV reenactments over the years had dramatized the pivotal moment when Reed broke into the old farmhouse and discovered Ellery nailed into a closet.
Satisfied, she turned again and strode toward the black maw of the trail. Behind her, she heard Reed on the phone relaying their location and the latest developments. The heady wet-earth scent of the forest enveloped her as the trees blocked out the moon from overhead. Bugs chattered at her, their electric hum giving the woods their own unique pulse. Lovesick frogs burped out a mating song in the darkness. She slapped at the mosquitos that thrilled to the arrival of fresh flesh, dive-bombing her bare arms with hungry, stinging tongues.
Quickening footsteps behind her made her heart miss a beat, and she whirled to find Reed hurrying up the trail after her. “It will take time to mobilize everyone in the middle of the night,” he whispered to her. “But they’re on the way.”
Ellery reached a branching point in the trail—go higher toward the marble arch or lower down near the water. She cast her light on the ground for some indication of which way to go, but hundreds of hikers had probably passed this spot in the last few days. “We should split up.”