Jeff knew he should have been tired, but he really was buzzed. ‘Thanks, Mom. A sandwich sounds perfect. You want me to make them?’
She waved him off. ‘I’m already up and it’s better if my hands are busy.’
I’m lucky, he thought, watching as she disappeared into the kitchen. A lot of parents wouldn’t have been so supportive, but his mother had always been his cheerleader.
That she was proud of him shouldn’t mean so much. He was sixteen, after all. In college, even. But down deep he felt like a little kid and her pride meant everything.
He looked at his phone, clutched in his hand. He’d kept himself from checking his email after the retraction article went live. It hadn’t even been an hour, after all. But he should check his blog followers and YouTube subscribers. It would suck if his numbers dropped before they could make use of them.
He opened his account, relieved to see that his retraction had been received well. Lots of comments. Most of them positive. Of course there were trolls, but there would always be trolls.
He swiped to see his email and smiled. Mrs Sokolov had sent him a message, filled with smiley face emojis. She was such a nice lady. He hoped that she and his mom could be friends. He replied to Irina Sokolov with his thanks, then noticed a new email.
The subject line read: Mercy Callahan. Hoping that it wasn’t anything bad – anything new that was bad, anyway – he opened it, read it, then read it again.
‘Mom?’ he called, then got up to find her in the kitchen. ‘I just got a weird email. It’s from a lady in Reno who says she knows a man who claims to be Mercy’s father. He wants to contact her.’
His mother frowned. ‘That is weird. And suspicious. What if it’s the man who tried to abduct her from the airport? The one who killed that poor old lady in New Orleans?’
Jeff read the email a third time. ‘The email was written by an Edie Arthur and says the man’s name is Amos Terrill. She gives a phone number that I can call to reach him.’ Quickly he did a reverse lookup on his phone. ‘It’s a public library in Reno.’
His mother shook her head hard. She’d grown pale. ‘Send it to the FBI, Jeffy. I don’t want you in the middle.’
‘Okay, Mom.’ He forwarded the message to Special Agent in Charge Molina, then read the message again. ‘I sent it to the FBI. But . . . what if it’s real?’
She was still shaking her head. ‘What if it is? You let that Molina woman take care of it.’
He was unsure. Something was pulling at him, the same thing that had told him there was a story in Mercy Callahan. He’d been right about that. Wrong about the story he’d told, but right to have pointed himself in her direction.
‘I’m going to call Mrs Sokolov,’ he said. ‘Just in case. She can ask Mercy what she wants to do about it.’
His mother let out a slow breath. ‘Okay. But only a phone call. You’re not leaving this house.’
He kissed her cheek. ‘Yes, ma’am.’ He dialed the number for the Sokolov house, smiling when his call was answered by the same voice as the day before. ‘Zoya? This is Jeff Bunker.’
‘Hi, Jeff.’ Her voice was warm and friendly. ‘I read your retraction. It’s good.’
He felt his cheeks heating. ‘Thanks. It was the right thing to do. But I’m calling about something else. Is your mother home yet?’
‘No, not yet. What’s going on?’
He told her about the email. ‘I sent it to Agent Molina, but thought . . . you know, what if it’s real?’
‘Did you say Amos?’ she asked. ‘And that he’s in Reno?’
‘Yes. Amos Terrill. And the number is the Reno library. Why?’
‘Hold on. I’m going to add my mom to this call. She’s in Reno right now with my sister Sasha.’
A moment later Irina Sokolov’s voice was on the line. ‘Read me the email, Jeff,’ she said briskly, but not unkindly. ‘Every single word.’
Twenty-four
Reno, Nevada
Tuesday, 18 April, 11.55 A.M.
‘I really appreciate this, ma’am,’ Amos said to Millie. Edie’s friend had well and truly taken him under her wing.
She grinned at him over the stack of books and magazines she’d brought him to read. ‘My pleasure. This is like a librarian’s dream. I get to guide you through thirty years of history.’
He had to smile at her enthusiasm. ‘I don’t think I’ll get through all these books today.’ He didn’t think he could get through them in a month. He’d never been the fastest reader, his limited skill even rustier after thirty years away from newspapers or even comic books. It was overwhelming indeed.
‘Then come back tomorrow. I can hold them for you behind the desk, and when you get an address I can get you a library card.’
He wasn’t sure which of her comments to reply to. By tomorrow he hoped to be talking to Mercy or Gideon. He could trust them. He hoped. And as for a permanent address, he had no idea where to start. ‘Thank you,’ was all he could think to say.
Her grin softened to a sympathetic smile. ‘It’s overwhelming, I know. But your little girl seems to be fitting in.’
Together they looked to the children’s section, where one of the other librarians had just finished a story-time circle for preschoolers. Abigail had sat in the back row, her attention riveted until the librarian had closed the book with a dramatic ‘The End’. Then Abigail had begged for ‘One more’.
Delighted, the woman had read another story, then tasked Abigail with reading to the children. His daughter was in her element, reading from Ramona the Pest, stopping to show the children the illustrations as the librarian had.
‘She’s taking her responsibilities very seriously,’ Amos said, his chest near to bursting with pride.
‘That she is,’ Millie said fondly. She glanced at the computer screen, still open to the email account that Edie had set up. ‘Still no reply?’
Amos shook his head. ‘I’m beginning to think I won’t get one. At least not today.’
Millie sighed. ‘What will you do?’
‘I don’t know. I need to . . .’ Write that letter to the police. Tell them about DJ. Tell them to warn Mercy, to protect her. He didn’t want to write it here and he was so tired that it was becoming difficult to even think of the words that he should say. ‘I guess I need to find a place to stay tonight.’ A safe place for them to sleep. ‘Can you point me to a low-cost hotel?’
‘I’ll run a search and print out a list of hotels in the area,’ Millie said.