“I’m afraid not,” Agent Santos said, glancing down at the little boy Margo held on her lap. He kept patting at his mother’s face, wiping away the tears. The other child was engrossed in a video game, all the while stealing looks at the adults in the room.
“Ma’am,” Agent Santo said gently. “In these situations, we find it vital to have someone here as a support to the families. Is there a family member or friend we can call?” Maybe it was the fact that Agent Santos was a woman, or perhaps because it was her status as an agent that made Margo listen.
Margo nodded and wrote down a phone number and a name on a scrap of paper. Agent Santos handed the slip of paper to the deputy. “Addie, take your brother into our bedroom and turn on the TV.”
“Okay, Mommy,” Addie said in a small voice and slipped from her chair and grabbed Toby by the hand and led him from the room.
“Oh, my God,” Margo rocked back and forth in her seat. “Oh, my God.” Agent Santos watched quietly as Kevin went behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders, but she shrugged them away. Margo cleared her throat. “Can you tell me what’s going on? The deputy couldn’t tell us much.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Allen,” Agent Santos took the seat across from her. “This is what we know. William and Lynne Doyle were killed last night. Their daughter, Josie, was shot. When law enforcement arrived on the scene, Ethan Doyle and your daughter weren’t there.”
Margo gripped her hands together tightly, pressing her fingernails into her skin, leaving behind half-moon indentations.
Agent Santos continued. “From what Josie Doyle could tell us, she lost sight of Becky. We’re acting on two possibilities right now. One, Becky ran away and is hiding somewhere, and two, the perpetrator took Becky with him.”
Behind Margo, Kevin continued to pace. She wanted to scream at him to hold still, for once in his life to stop moving. Instead, Margo bit the insides of her cheeks until she tasted blood.
“We have an Amber Alert out for a truck that is missing from the scene, and the picture you provided of Becky has gone out to all media outlets. Officers will continue to search the surrounding area and tomorrow, we will bring in search dogs.”
“Search dogs?” Kevin stopped in place. “Search dogs are used to find bodies, right? Do you think Becky’s dead?” he asked, his voice breaking.
“Shut up, Kevin,” Margo said softly.
He started pacing again, walking the length of the narrow galley kitchen, back and forth, back and forth. “That’s what dogs are used for. Finding bodies. Is there something you’re not telling us? Do you think she’s dead?”
“Shut up, Kevin,” Margo said again, slapping her hands on the table. The sharp crack filled the room. The sting radiated through her palms and into her wrists. It was a relief to feel the pain in Margo’s chest shift to her hands. She slammed them down again and again and again. Thwack, thwack, thwack.
She wanted the cheap plywood table to splinter into a million bits but still it held. Thwack, thwack, thwack. She curled her hands into fists and tried again. She felt a bone give in her left pinky, but still she pounded on the table. Kevin finally stopped moving and stood, frozen in place, staring at his wife as if she was a stranger. Addie ran into the room to see what was happening, her eyes wide with fear.
Agent Santos, laid her hands atop Margo’s so they were pinned to the table. Her skin felt cool against the heat of Margo’s. “I know,” Agent Santos said in a low voice. “I know.”
Margo looked into Agent Santos’s dark eyes and Margo knew that this woman had seen things. Terrible things. But there was something else—a tiny glint of hope. Margo latched on to that glimmer and held the agent’s gaze. It was going to be okay. It had to be okay.
Back at the sheriff’s office, Deputy Levi Robbins entered the shotgun into evidence and put out a be on the lookout or BOLO for Ethan Doyle’s Datsun truck, but something else was gnawing at his brain.
Brock Cutter and Ethan Doyle were friends. Josie said they had seen Brock earlier that evening. It was after 1:00 a.m. when he pulled Cutter over for speeding, and he was coming from the direction of the Doyle farm. Levi knew he should have spoken up about pulling Brock over but decided to wait until he heard what the kid had to say. Levi hoped he hadn’t missed something important.
He headed toward the Cutter farm but lucked out and saw what looked to be Brock’s truck parked at the gas station. Levi swung into the lot and pulled into a spot at the far corner. The heat rose from the concrete in waves and had putrefied whatever was in the garbage can so that it emitted a foul smell. Levi leaned against Brock’s truck and waited.