Page 41 of The Stranger
She slows the car to a quick, messy stop, and I fall out of my side, crawling across the wet snow toward Tibby’s side of the vehicle. She opens her door and stares down at me as if she thinks I’ve lost my mind.
Maybe I have. It would make more sense than what I suspect. What I now know.
Then again, no it wouldn’t, because suddenly, everything makes perfect sense. The picture forms in my mind with total clarity.
“What are you doing?” she shouts, waving a hand in my direction. “Get back in the car.”
I reach for Tibby’s hand, standing to my feet. “Come on.” I pull her, practically dragging her farther away. I’m half surprised she’s coming with me, shocked she isn’t refusing to listen to me now that she thinks I’m dangerous. I can only take that as a good sign. She must still trust me a little bit, even if she hates herself for it.
“What are you talking about?” She jerks her hand from my grasp. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?” She digs her feet into the snow, refusing to move another inch until I explain what’s going on. “Tell me what you’re freaking out about.”
“I…” I don’t even know how to explain it. There’s no possible way to put this into words without making her think I’m absolutely insane. Either that, or I’m lying to get her to trust me again. Thinking quickly, I shove the picture into her hand and drop to the ground, facing away from the car as Tony and Lori step out.
“What’s happening?” Tony shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth.
“Are you alright, hon?” Lori stands on her tiptoes, trying to get a better look from where they’re standing just a few feet away. “Did you get carsick?”
I wave away their questions. From the ground, hunched over as if I’m getting sick, I’m not listening. I’m only looking at Tibby as she stares down at the photo with wide eyes full of every question running through my own mind.
I know from the look on her face I’m not wrong. That she understands what it is, just the same as I did. The graduation portrait in her hand is of the unmistakable face of the boy from the news. The boy who went missing, whose family hasn’t heard from him in hours. The one Tibby worried was somehow connected to the motel.
Now I’m worried she might have been right.
I hope with everything in me, she understands that this must mean what I think it means. When she looks up at me finally, her jaw is slack.
“Is this…?”
She doesn’t have to finish the question. I nod and swallow.
“Walker…”
“I know.”
She looks down at the photo again. “Where did you find this?”
“It was in the pocket on the back of the seat.”
“And you think it means?—”
“I think it means exactly what you’re thinking, Tibby.” I take the photo from her, willing her to look up at me. When she does, I say the words that need to be said. Need to be processed and comprehended so we can move forward with our new reality. “Lori and Tony have been lying to us. This isn’t their car. The car we’re riding in belonged to the missing boy from the news. And I’d bet anything they know what happened to him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
BEFORE
It takes longer than usual to slow the car to a stop thanks to the road conditions, and the person in the hooded jacket clearly doesn’t want to be picked up, but it certainly beats the alternative, doesn’t it?
As I stop the car fully, I roll down the window and shout, “Hey! Are you okay?”
The person stops in their tracks. Their jeans are soaking wet at the bottom from the snow. They turn around slowly, and in the shadows, I can’t see their face until they lower the hood.
When he does, I get a better look at him. Greasy, gray hair, a round belly. A thick mustache.
He slowly walks back to the car and bends down to look at me, releasing a loud whistle. “Well, you sure are a sight for sore eyes.”
I giggle at the obvious attempt to flirt. “Thanks. Are you okay? The storm is supposed to get bad tonight. Can I give you a ride anywhere?”
“Nah. Thanks, sweetheart. I just live around the corner,” he says. “Walked down to check my neighbor’s mail while they’re out of town.”