The Devil Wore Sneakers (22 page)

Hank walked in and nodded to them as he stepped behind the bar. “Thanks, Sadie.”

“No problem. I’ll go stare at the zero screen orders.”

“How’s Bella doing, Hank?” Lucy asked after Sadie disappeared.

He shook his head. “She’s been talking more and more about Ryan. I don’t know if she can’t accept he’s dead or what’s going on with her.”

“Did you notice the black sedan on the street?”

“Yup, the feds are crawling all over Barley.” He moved closer to Lucy. “Want a tea?”

“No thanks. How did you hear about them?”

“Come to lunch or to Trivia Night. Everyone is talking about the suits. They’ve got the fire department dragging Squawking Geese Pond this afternoon and then the river in the center of town.”

“The ice isn’t out yet.”

“Guess they located a few spots where it looked like someone or something went through.”

Squawking Geese was near the spot where they’d found Ali’s phone and a mile from the castle. “I think I’ll check in with Liam.” Why hadn’t he mentioned the water search? She walked to the front window, glanced outside, and pushed Liam’s number. He didn’t answer.

When the beep alerted her to leave a message, she rambled out her fears about the FBI stalking him, staying away from Sullivan, and Ali in the freezing water, and then hung up.

* * *

Liam let up on the gas when he reached the town line. Another check in the mirror confirmed his tail was nowhere in sight. The GPS in his pocket rubbed against his thigh as a constant reminder that Sullivan was tracking him like he was prey. He’d heard the whispers and recognized the covert glances thrown his way when the searchers had gathered. What bothered him most was Lucy’s new voicemail.

Her message irritated him. Okay, she warned him not to do anything to get the FBI’s attention or get arrested by Sullivan. Reasonable request. On the other hand, what did she believe he’d do? Revisit the scene of his crime? Too late. He’d gone back to Ryan’s house with her and without her.

What really ate at him was her bus ticket. Until he’d held her ticket, he’d enjoyed fantasies of Lucy staying in Barley. Now he realized his chances with her grew less and less each day.

Then there was Sullivan. Again. Did he suspect Liam of some involvement in kidnapping Ali? Did he think Liam pretended to discover her phone in the woods because he was playing a game with the cops?

Liam drove past the search headquarters set up on the edge of Ryan’s wooded drive. He headed to the pull-over where he’d found Ali’s phone. At the bottom of the hill, a cruiser sat across both lanes, blocking the way. Hitting the brake, he slowed his pickup until he stopped before the vehicle.

Liam rolled down his window. The young officer who had shown up when he’d called in Ali’s cell phone approached him.

“Sir, the road is closed to traffic. You’ll have to detour around the back side of the mountain.”

“Is someone hurt?” The fire station’s pumper sat in the pull-over, a short walk to Squawking Geese Pond. At this time of year, a snowmobiler who stuck to the trails risked sinking into the mud or slipping into the trees. If they dared to cross the pond, they were guaranteed a trip through the ice.

“Search in process,” Officer Gary said, approaching the truck. “You’ll have to turn around.”

They were searching for Ali’s body. Liam nodded and reversed his pickup. In his rearview mirror, he spotted the Barley uniform retreating to the side.

The officer was on his phone, most likely, confirming that Liam McAllister had returned to another site connected to a crime.

Chapter 32

March 29

Liam spent the next morning in his office rereading online articles written about Father Matt Hastings. The press had released his picture as a person of interest in Ali Smith’s kidnapping.

The last time he’d read about Hastings, he’d become too disgusted to digest the facts. Now he was prepared.

The real Hastings had died after his acceptance into seminary school. Cause of demise was a head injury he suffered in a car accident.

His death was not a big event. He had no family or close friends to notice his rebirth. One article described the deceased as the perfect age and possessing the same physical attributes as the current, pseudo Matt Hastings. With the discovery that Matt of Hawick Falls was an imposter, the death of the true Hastings was being reexamined.

Liam absorbed each word about the torture and punishment suffered by Lisa Grant, Lucy’s friend and another teen Matt had captured. The knot in Liam’s gut tightened and hardened.

Images formed in his mind of chains and pain. At least Lisa had survived. The other abducted girl, Kara Linn, had not lived. Liam switched gears. He pulled up the stories about Ryan’s murder. Could the crimes be connected? One thing he knew with certainty: he wanted to punish Hastings for the girls, for hurting Lucy.

The knock on his door broke his concentration. “Come in.”

Lucy entered. She paused a few feet from him and clenched her hands together. “Sorry to interrupt. I talked to Hank at the bar…”

“We’ve met, Luce. What’s happened?”

“Hank turned on a local channel. The fire department divers are still dragging Squawking Geese Pond. It will be a long process. Because of the freezing water temperature, the divers stay down for only short periods of time.” Her voice was low and husky with emotion. She gulped a breath. “They’re showing a report on Ali after the commercial break.”

“Ali was in the pond?” Liam shoved away from the desk to comfort Lucy, but she held up her hand.

“I don’t know if she’s in the water. No one called you from the search center?”

“The volunteers don’t start for another hour.” He pulled out his cell, debating how much info he’d obtain from a call. He stuffed the phone in his pocket. “I’m headed out for a while.”

“Where are you going?” Lucy’s eyes widened.

“I need to get away. How about joining me? We’ll bring our chaperone and drive like we don’t have a worry and our biggest care is what’s for supper.”

“Sounds good, and Target loves riding in your truck.”

They walked into the bar area, where Hank and Sadie were gazing at the TV. The meteorologist cautioned the audience to be on the lookout for a hailstorm headed their way. The picture switched to the news anchor.

The newscaster commented on the weather and then introduced the next segment. A clip rolled on the screen, and the woman reporter narrated. “This scene was shot yesterday outside homicide victim Ryan Watson’s house, where the police were investigating a stolen vehicle.”

A video played of a tow truck with the out-of-state car on the flatbed. The truck was pulling out of Ryan’s driveway. “The police chief is not responding to requests for information about the Vermont car or how it connects to Ryan Watson. Your Barley news team has learned the car was reported missing from a residential home in Burlington, Vermont.”

A picture of Matt flashed onto the TV. The Moose crew slid glances toward Liam and Lucy.

“Yeah, it’s him,” Liam said, hoping Lucy’s name wouldn’t come up on the broadcast.

On the screen, the newsman’s voice continued. “Authorities are asking the public to be on the lookout for this man, last identified as Matthew Hastings, and to report any sighting to the tip line. Law enforcement stresses you should not approach or speak to him, as he may be dangerous. Hastings is wanted in connection with recent crimes in Barley.”

The camera switched to the image of the reporter standing near the Smiths’ garrison-style home. “In the search for Ali Smith, the fire department is requesting sonar devices used for ice fishing be lent and dropped off at the firehouse. Tomorrow the divers from Barley will join the New Hampshire Fish and Game Dive Team at Squawking Geese Pond. The pond is partially frozen. Ali Smith’s cell phone was discovered in the vicinity, leading investigators to the property.”

“Good luck with that,” Hank said. “The snowmobile trails cross the pond. I remember a few breaking through the ice in the past. One machine must still be at the bottom.”

“I hope they find nothing in the water.” Lucy gripped her folded arms against her chest.

“We should be happy the press isn’t standing outside the Moose.” Liam was even more grateful the reporters hadn’t included Lucy in their news update.

Sadie shook her head. “Can you imagine being that poor girl’s parents? You’re in hell, praying your daughter is found alive. The church is holding a prayer vigil tomorrow night. It’s going to be kinda like a candlelight vigil, but inside. Father Francis will speak. The whole town is attending. Can you come, Lucy?”

“Sure.” Lucy dragged her fingers through her hair. “I seem to miss out on the local news.”

“Count on us to fill you in on anything important,” Liam said, willing her to feel safe.

“Thanks, Liam.”

“I just heard about the prayer vigil myself,” the cook said.

“Hank, how’s Bella today?” Lucy leaned against the bar top.

The bartender grabbed a bottle of water. “I told her she should go to work and think about customers and gifts, but she keeps talking about Ryan and Ali. Now that the police are focused on Squawking Geese Pond, Bella wants to follow everything that happens.”

“Grief does strange things to people,” Sadie said.

“I’m sorry she’s having such a hard time. Let me know if I can help.” Lucy turned to Liam. “I’ll run up for Target and my jacket. I’ll be a second.” With a nod, she left.

Hank opened his water and drank a mouthful. “Boss, when does the search start today?”

“People will arrive after lunch.”

“I might have to take a day or two off. Bella’s kinda losing it. She told me Ryan stops by for visits at night.”

“Take whatever you need. I’ll fill in.” The man’s confession shook him. Bella sounded as if she needed a visit with a psychiatrist or a grief counselor.

In the hall, he met up with Lucy and Target. Color had returned to her face, and she seemed more composed. “Are you sure you want to go? The police won’t permit us near their work area.”

Target let out two barks.

“You heard our boss, ‘Yes, sir.’”

Main Street was empty as they drove down it. Lucy patted Target, who settled between them as usual.

“I bet everyone is glued to their TV set.” He threw her a speculative glance. Her free hand gripped the armrest on the door. “Lucy, you doing okay?”

She hesitated.

Was she about to announce she’d bought her ticket, the one he’d stowed in his glove compartment?

“Something is wrong with Bella,” she blurted.

“Bella?” He’d expected her to hit him with “I’m going away tomorrow. Matt Hastings is too close.”

“She believes Ryan is talking to her and that he can tell her where Ali has gone. She acts as if he’s alive and cheating on her with the high school student. Liam, I’m worried about her.”

“Hank’s concerned too. He told me in the bar about his sister’s dreams, hallucinations, or whatever they are. Maybe she needs a referral to a doctor.”

“I hope she gets the help she needs.” Lucy zipped up her fleece jacket to her chin. “So is the FBI following you?”

“The FBI is focused on Ali and Hastings, Luce. He won’t get away much longer.” Liam glanced in his rearview mirror again. No one was behind them. “Luce, I know you bought a ticket to leave Barley.”

She blinked at him. “Gage told you?”

“You dropped the ticket when you jumped in the truck. I put it in the glove compartment.”

“Gage gave it to me as a thank-you for alerting him to his fire. Though I’ll have to email my boss if I stay any longer.”

“You shouldn’t go home until they jail Hastings and the criminal or criminals who shot your brother. Hastings could follow you out of Barley. You’ll be better off at the Moose where you won’t be alone. Working at night at a hotel desk job isn’t safe.”

“Don’t remind me.” She stared out her side window. “I often feel him out there, watching me. I guess I’m as strange as Bella.” She shivered, leaned down, and buried her face in Target’s fur for a second.

When she raised her head, her eyes had lost their fear, but a light of speculation filled them. “Have you talked to your dad lately?”

“Dad? No. He’s busy with his life in Arizona, and I’m glad. He’s worked hard and deserves to take it easy.”

“Let’s talk about something light and entertaining. How about those Patriots, or Red Sox, or Bruins, or whatever sport is current?”

“You forgot Celtics.” He braked at the stop sign before turning onto the back road. A green tow truck sped past with the seal of New Hampshire on the side. The wind whipped part of the covering on the flatbed up in the air, revealing the contents: a crimson sports car.

“That car looks like Ali’s.” Lucy fastened her gaze on the vehicle.

Liam tracked the truck as it drove by them. “If it is Ali’s, the driver must be on his way to the state lab and avoiding the press by staying off the main routes.”

Lucy nodded, her lips folded inward.

So much for their carefree ride. He watched the patch of red disappear over a hill. The little sporty car once made Ali the center of attention in Barley. Now it served as a sad reminder of her abduction and possible death.