Missing

Chapter 9

Terry shook his head. "I don't-"

"Did you kill her?" My voice sounded strangely flat.

He looked up at me incredulously. "What?"

"Did you kill Sara?"

"What? No!"

I stepped toward him slowly, and he backed away. "Tell me what you did with her."

"I didn't do anything, man, I swear. You're-"

"You said you hadn't seen Sara in over twenty years. So how did you know she was living in Vegas?"

"I don't... you..."

"Terry." I had him backed against the car now. "Where is she?"

"I don't know, I swear. Look, she was here this morning, but she made me promise not to tell anyone."

"Why?"

He threw up his hands. "I have no idea. I mean, out of the blue she shows up on my curb, staring across the street at her old house. I didn't even recognize her at first, until she smiled at me. The smile, I recognized."

I stared at him, hard. "Then what?"

"Then I invited her inside for coffee, but she said she didn't want any. She was acting funny."

"Funny how?"

"I don't know... really jittery, I guess. Like she'd had eight shots of espresso."

Or eight Hershey bars, I thought.

"What exactly did she say to you?"

Terry rubbed his forehead. "Well, ah... I remember I asked her what she'd been up to, and she said she'd been living in Vegas for a while. And then I asked her if she wanted breakfast or anything, and she started mumbling."

"Mumbling what?" I asked, frowning.

"I couldn't catch it all. But it was mostly about saving a girl."

"What girl?"

"I don't know," he replied. "She was just mumbling about how she had to go, how she had to save a girl, and then she looked at me and said really clearly that I couldn't tell anyone that I'd seen her."

"And then?"

"And then she ran off." Terry sighed. "Look, I know I should've told you. But Sara, she looked so upset. And you showed up here and seemed like a nice enough guy, but you didn't even tell me your name, and I didn't know what to think."

"I... understand," I said finally. "And it's Grissom, by the way."

He nodded. "Is something wrong with Sara?"

"I don't know. I think so." I leaned against the car heavily. "It's been a rough month. She was kidnapped and left for dead, and it just... I guess it affected her even more than I suspected. And then yesterday, she just disappeared, while I was sleeping."

"That's kind of an understandable reaction, though," he reasoned. "I mean, wanting to get away for a while. Clear her head."

"It's not just that. She thinks she's cursed, somehow. And there's some kind of connection to a Tennyson poem. It's like she's obsessed with it."

"What poem?"

"The Lady of Shalott."

He raised his eyebrows. "Well, maybe I can help, then."

"How?"

"Well," he said, "I don't know much about investigating, but I teach high school English. If there's a clue in that poem, I can help you find it."

I followed Terry into his study, watching as he switched on his computer.

"I've got some books on Tennyson upstairs," he said, heading back toward the door. "They've got to have something on The Lady. I'll be right back. Feel free to check your email or whatever."

Email.

My eyes widening, I darted over to the desk, flicking my fingers impatiently as the computer started up. Finally it loaded completely, and I sat down, opening a new browser window.

Don't get your hopes up, I reminded myself.

But I'd already broken that rule, twenty times over. I'd put aside all my doubts and misgivings and let myself love her, let myself envision spending the rest of my life with her. When it came to Sara, I couldn't help but hope.

There were three new emails in my inbox. One from Ecklie, one promising me four more inches, and one from a familiar Yahoo account.

I was still staring at the screen when Terry came back in the room.

"What is it?" he asked, catching my expression.

"I got an email from Sara."

"Did you open it?"

He didn't understand, clearly. If I didn't open it, I could pretend it said she was at home waiting for me.

If I didn't open it, I could still hope.

But I forced myself to click on the message, and it opened full-screen.

I can't, Gil. Please trust me. This is for the best.

That was all it said. No messages of undying love and devotion, no clues as to where she was currently hiding. I let out a long breath of frustration, rubbing my cheek with my palm as I looked up at Terry.

He didn't look frustrated at all. In fact, his eyes were blazing with something like triumph. "Your name is Gil?"

"Yes."

"You said it was Grissom."

"That's my last name, I-"

"It's not a girl," he said excitedly, picking up one of the Tennyson books.

"What's not a-"

"When Sara was outside, when she was mumbling all that stuff, I thought she'd said she had to save a girl. But don't you get it?" At my blank expression he shook his head. "She was saying she had to save Gil."

"Save me from what?" I turned back to the computer screen. "I don't understand."

"I'm going to grab a pad of paper. One second." He left again, and I reread Sara's message. There was nothing there that could help me, nothing but those three sentences, and-

I blinked at the screen, pulling out my cell phone. It rang four times before he picked up, sounding groggy.

"Hello?"

"Greg? It's Grissom. I need your help with something."

"Grissom?" He sounded more awake now. "Have you found Sara?"

"No, but I have a lead. She sent me an email, from a Yahoo account. Can you trace the ISP number from that?"

"I'll do my best," Greg replied. I could hear him getting dressed. "I'll need the password to your email."

"Sure. You got a pen handy? It's a long one."

"Yeah, one sec."

Terry came back into the room as I waited.

"Okay," Greg said. "Shoot."

"Heliconius Sara Theudela," I told him, spelling it slowly.

"Geez, my password is boobs123," he muttered under his breath, then cleared his throat loudly. "I'll head over to the lab right now, Griss, see what we can dig up."

"Thank you, Greg." I closed the phone, turning to Terry. "You got something?"

"Yeah." He was writing quickly, filling up the page. "I think I figured out the curse."