He continued on, “Have you seen anyone strange around town, Wendy? Has anyone been following you? Bothering you at all?”
She could feel the tremor starting, barely a quiver in the center of her chest. “No, no, nothing like that,” Wendy said. A rough shudder jolted her shoulders.
Detective James leaned forward in his seat. “Are you sure?” he asked, snagging her in his gaze. “Wendy—” His eyes flicked to the edge of his desk. His brows drew together.
Wendy looked down. She held a pen, poised as if about to write something down. Her hand shook furiously, the tip a mere inch from the desk, bobbing through the air as if writing on its own.
Or drawing.
Wendy slammed the pen down.
She shoved her hands under her thighs.
Detective James watched her, expression unreadable.
Wendy made herself stare back. She took slow, deliberate breaths.
After a long pause, Detective James asked, “Have you seen Peter since he went missing from the hospital?”
“No.” She hesitated. “Do you think he had something to do with this?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking.
He considered her question before responding. “Right now, all we know is that kids are going missing—disappearing from their homes—and that this boy, Peter, also went missing. While, currently, I can’t say that we’ve recovered enough evidence to make any connections…” He said it in a way that sounded very rehearsed. “What we can say is that you and Peter were, at one point, in the same place. We don’t know in what capacity, but we can’t deny that all of these disappearances could be connected, because the two of you are connected. It’s possible that he’s being held captive with the other children who have gone missing.”
Wendy chewed on her bottom lip. So, they still weren’t sure what to make of Peter. That was reassuring. Hell, she still didn’t know quite what to make of him, either. Peter wasn’t being accused of anything yet, which was good. They were even considering that maybe he was a victim.
One way or another, everything kept leading back to her. Back to her brothers. Back to what happened in the woods.
Detective James’s expression hardened. He braced his elbows on the desk. “There is a very real possibility that whoever took those missing kids also took Peter, and could have taken you and your brothers. You need to be careful, Wendy,” he said in a low and even tone. “This isn’t a game, and this isn’t just about you anymore.”
Wendy wanted to snap at him, to remind him it had never been just about her. It had been about her and John and Michael. It angered her, the way people kept talking about them as if they were gone for good.
He pulled out a card from his pocket and handed it to Wendy. “If you think of anything that could help, see anyone suspicious, see Alex or Peter, or need help, call me.”
Wendy took his card. The corner was sharp and poked into her finger. She took a deep breath and nodded. “I will.”
CHAPTER 13
Bubblegum
The police station was only a few blocks from the hospital, but Wendy’s dad still insisted on driving her there. He kept looking over but didn’t say anything until they pulled up to the entrance.
He turned to face her, expression stern. “No more leaving the house alone,” he told her.
Wendy nodded. She knew it was best not to try arguing with him, especially about this. All the missing kids, cops, detectives, and mentions of her brothers were making him even more intense than usual, and she couldn’t blame him. Honestly, she thought he would be drinking more, but she’d noticed that the recycling bin was noticeably less full.
“No more staying out past dark, lock the house up when your mom and I aren’t there, and keep your phone on you at all times. If we call, I expect you to pick up immediately,” her father ordered. He held up a finger and pointed it at her. “Do you understand me?”
Wendy nodded and wiped her sweaty palms on her shorts. “Yeah, Dad,” she said, not wanting to say anything to anger him further.
Great. Now she would need to be more careful sneaking around with Peter. Her father would be on alert, noticing more and asking questions. She was surrounded by interrogators. Her parents had only her best interests at heart, but still, there were things she needed to do without them.
For a moment, her father stared at her, his face still etched with a deep frown. Wendy thought he was going to say something more, but then he let out a huff of air, sat back, and gave her a curt nod.
Taking that as her cue to leave, Wendy climbed out of the car. She walked to the glass doors of the back entrance, as if she were going to go inside. She turned and waved to her dad.