STONE SAT DOWN in the study with a book to await Holly’s return. Over the years he had found that if he distracted himself from a problem for a while, his subconscious seemed to work on it in the background, and it would become clearer.
He read on for half an hour, then became drowsy. He rested his head on the back of the chair for a moment, and shortly he was sound asleep.
When he awoke, the shadows were long outside, and he looked at his watch: nearly seven o’clock. Mabel Hotchkiss came into the room.
“Excuse me, Stone, but will you and Holly be dining in tonight?”
“Yes, I think we will,” Stone said, standing up and stretching. “I was asleep for a while. Did Holly come back from her run?”
“I’ve been in the kitchen, so I haven’t seen her,” Mabel replied.
Stone sat down, picked up the phone and pressed the page button. “Holly? Are you in the house?” He could hear the echo of his voice around the place. “Holly?”
He hung up, then picked up the phone again and called her cell phone. He was shunted immediately to her voice mail.
“It’s Stone,” he said. “I’m worried about you. Please call me the minute you get this message. If I’m not in, try my cell phone.” He hung up.
Holly had been gone way too long, he reckoned. He grabbed his cell phone from the desk, then left and backed the MG out of the garage. At the end of the driveway, he stopped and wondered which way she had gone. A right turn would take her toward the village; he turned left, assuming she would want empty roads.
He drove along the road at a steady twenty miles an hour, checking every driveway as he passed. As he came around a curve he saw Holly down the road, running toward him, apparently just returning home. Where the hell had she been?
He slowed to a stop and pulled over, letting her run on toward him, vaguely angry with her for having worried him. As she ran, she pushed her sweatshirt hood off her head, and she wasn’t Holly. She was a teenaged boy. He flagged the boy down.
“Evening,” he said. “My name is Stone Barrington.”
“Oh, yes,” the boy said, “from the Stone house. I’m Tyler Morrow.” They shook hands. He appeared to be sixteen or seventeen.
“Have you seen another runner along your route?” Stone asked.
“A couple of them,” Tyler replied. “A man and a woman; I didn’t know either of them, which is unusual around here.”
“Were they together?”
“No. I saw them separately.”
“Can you describe the woman?”
“Oh, let’s see: mid-twenties, dark hair, five-three or-four, slim.”
Not Holly. “Are you sure you didn’t see another woman? I’m looking for a friend of mine who runs out this way.”
“Nope. Just the two.”
“Thanks very much, Tyler. If you should encounter a woman in her late thirties or early forties, five-nine, a hundred and thirty pounds, medium brown hair, will you please ask her if her name is Holly, and if it is, ask her to call Stone on his cell phone right away?”
“Sure. Be glad to.” With a wave, Tyler Morrow continued on his way.
Stone put the car in gear and began his search anew. He drove all the way to the southern tip of the island, checking every side road and driveway, seeing no sign of Holly. He turned the car around and got out his cell phone. No signal, low battery.
On his way back he turned down every side road and checked it, and by the time he got back to the house it was dark and lights were on inside. He garaged the car and let himself in. “Holly?” he yelled. “Are you home?”
Mabel came out of the kitchen. “I was just upstairs putting away some linens, and she wasn’t anywhere up there,” she said.
“Thank you, Mabel.”
“What time will you want dinner?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to eat until Holly is back. Can you put dinner in the fridge for us, and we’ll heat it up later?”
“It’s beef stew,” she said. “You can heat it in the microwave.”
Stone went to the phone and called Sergeant Young.
“This is Sergeant Tom Young,” a recorded voice said. “Please leave a message, and I’ll call you back as soon as I get in.”
“Sergeant, this is Stone Barrington. Holly Barker has not returned from her run, and I’m very concerned. I’m not sure exactly how long she’s been gone, but it’s several hours, and she’s never stayed out this long when running. I think you should let your search parties know about her. Please call me at your first opportunity.” He hung up, and his eyes came to rest on the coffee table. Holly’s cell phone was there. He picked it up and saw that it was switched off. She had no way to communicate.
He put the phone down and called Ed Rawls.
“Rawls,” the big man drawled.
“Ed, it’s Stone. You’ve heard about the two missing women?”
“They’re not missing anymore,” Rawls said. “They found the first body this morning. I’ve just come back from working with one of the search parties. Somebody in a boat who was patrolling the beach found the second body in the water a hundred yards out early this evening.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Stone said.
“Why did you call?”
“Holly is missing. She went out for a run hours ago and never came back. At least, I assume she went running; she didn’t take a car.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Rawls said.