Missing - Adam Nicholls (ready player one ebook txt) 📗
- Author: Adam Nicholls
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Book online «Missing - Adam Nicholls (ready player one ebook txt) 📗». Author Adam Nicholls
Sandra pushed back the kitchen stool and moved to a drawer. She pulled out a brown envelope and slid it across the counter.
“What’s this?”
“Divorce papers. I was going to wait until you’d closed your case, but… you know.”
“Oh, well thank you so much for being the mature one in all this.” Mason felt that rage burning up his insides again. He wanted to scream, throw things, maybe even march upstairs and beat the living shit out of Joshua.
But a soft, delicate voice from behind soothed him in a heartbeat.
“Dad?”
Mason turned to see Amy standing in the doorway.
She ran to him, hugging his waist. She’d washed off her makeup, and she’d dyed her hair back to its original color. Even her pajamas were cutesy. It was like she’d been restored to her former self. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too, sweetheart. Hey, wanna go see a movie tomorrow?”
“Can it be that new vampire movie?” she asked, beaming.
“Whatever that is, sure.” He mussed her hair like he used to do when she was five years old. “I’ll pick you up at nine.” Now the brown envelope no longer seemed important, and it was only then Mason realized the sole reason he’d been happy with his family was because of Amy. Sandra had little, perhaps nothing, to do with it.
For the next hour they sat and talked about school, and even Sandra laughed a little. For that one hour, they were a family again, and Mason didn’t even think about the Lullaby Killer until he left the house.
Now, he thought as he got back in his car and waved to Amy, who stood watching from her bedroom window…
Now to find Marvin Wendell.
Evie Black started the new day with research.
Last night’s events had already leaked to the press. As promised, she’d had nothing to do with it, so found herself only reading the rival sites, most of them filled with details about how private investigator Mason Black had found the Carter twin. Thankfully, Evie wasn’t mentioned, but she still read with pride that her brother was well respected. She’d always hoped—not quite expected, but hoped—he would grow up to be something of a success. After what had happened to their parents, any kind of motivation should have been hard to come by. But Mason seemed to have managed, and managed well.
Crime Online had little to say about the details of the case, as they had a habit of being vague rather than filling in the blanks with their imagination. First Cut, on the other hand, had much more to express, including an interview with one Vincent Romero.
Drawn in by the headline—FRIEND OF LULLABY KILLER SPEAKS OUT—Evie clicked and watched the interview. She hadn’t known him by name, but he was the clerk of the motel and claimed he’d been friends with the killer for a couple of years.
The video showed Romero, who seemed to be trying not to grin.
“I didn’t know his real name or that he was a killer,” he told the camera in a fake display of shame. “I only knew he was a press researcher, kind of quiet and a little strange.” His whole performance was probably just to draw attention to his business. The world was full of attention-seeking con artists, and Evie was sick of them.
Reaching for her phone, she found Mason’s number and dialed.
“Hey, Evie.”
“The clerk lied to us.”
“What?” Mason sounded as if he was still waking up.
“He was interviewed for a news channel. Says he had dinners with the killer, drinks with him after work some nights. This has been going on for…” Evie scrolled through the page. “… a couple years, apparently.”
“Wait, what? Slow down.” Mason grunted, as if was just getting out of bed. “He said he didn’t know the guy.”
“Well, now he says otherwise.”
“Could he be glory-seeking?”
“Maybe,” Evie said, walking around the room and filling her purse with things she might need for the day. “But wouldn’t you like to know for sure?”
Mason huffed, clearing his throat. “Right. You coming?”
“You bet your ass I am.”
Mason picked her up in a hurry. This time he was driving, and he wasn’t holding back. Flooring it, they tore up the road and got there in no time, climbed out, and stormed toward the clerk’s office.
“Already open for business,” Evie said, pointing at the motel room where they’d recovered Ryan Carter only yesterday. “Makes you sick, doesn’t it?”
Mason shook his head in disbelief and burst into the office. “I have a bone to pick with you,” he said as he barged between two customers at the counter. He was vaguely aware of Evie behind him, showing the customers out and making them aware of the recent murders on site.
“What the hell do you want?”
“I want to know why you lied to us.”
Romero sat down behind the counter, made a pfft noise, and turned away from them. “What’re you talking about?”
“You said you’d only exchanged a few words with Wendell.” Mason realized the clerk didn’t know the name, so corrected himself to what had been signed in the ledger. “Brahm, I mean. Now you’re telling the press you were friends. You’d better start telling some goddamn truths. I’ve come too far for you to be tripping me up.”
“Whatever.” The clerked waved a hand. “That was just to increase business.”
Evie stepped forward. “You said you knew he was a press researcher. How could you have possibly known that?”
Romero looked at her, moving his mouth like he was searching for an answer. “Go fuck yourself, little girl.”
Something inside Mason snapped. Without thinking he lunged over the counter and grabbed the man’s tie. With his other hand, he reached for the nearby stapler, dragged Romero closer, and whacked a staple into the desk beside his cheek.
The man cried out in terror. “You crazy shit!”
“I’m going to get a whole lot crazier if you don’t stop fucking with us.”
“All right!” He put his hands up, shaking. “All right. He brings whores here, okay? I-I didn’t want to say anything because I don’t want the police to find out.”
“We knew about the whores.” Mason dragged him closer. “What we want to know is why here?”
“What do you mean? He needs somewhere private.”
“But why here, especially? You’re miles out of town. There’re hundreds of places to stay before you reach this shithole dive.” Mason saw Evie fingering through some paperwork from the counter, totally relaxed.
“For God’s sake,” Romero cried. “I offer him discounts for continued use. He can’t do it at home. His m-mother wouldn’t approve. Now let me go!”
Mason tightened his grip, pulling him farther over the counter. “The killer doesn’t live with his mom.”
“Yes he does!” Romero cried. “I swear!”
Mason thought back to when they’d met Mrs. Wendell, and to how relaxed and unconcerned she’d been. Now it’d been brought to his attention, she had seemed unsurprised. As if she knew about him. As if she were protecting him.
“If you’re lying, I’ll be back. Evie?” Mason pushed the owner back into his chair, almost toppling it. He straightened himself out, dusting off the sleeves of his trench coat.
“Yep?”
“Let’s go.”
Mason killed the engine and reached into the glove compartment for the revolver.
“And what exactly do you plan to do with that?” Evie asked, pushing her glasses up her nose. She’d never liked guns. Not since a sex-obsessed creep had tried
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