AS RATH DROVE through town, his eyes searched for Rachel’s car, for Rachel walking along the dark street. He tried her number again and again and got nothing.
Pulling down his drive, his cell phone lit up, buzzing. He snatched it. Rachel’s number shone in the dark of the Scout.
“Rachel,” Rath gasped into the phone.
Static broke up a voice.
“Rachel?”
“Dad?”
Rath pulled the Scout to a stop. “Rachel, where are you? What—”
“I’m at the Monadnock Motel.”
“I’ll send the police, I—”
“I’m all right, Dad. I saw you on TV. And. I’m so sorry, you must have thought—”
Rath sagged against the steering wheel, bewildered and elated, feeling scraped out and raw as he fought to gain his composure and keep his voice from breaking.
“Come home,” he said.