When I get home, I pull out my key to unlock the door. I hold it without proceeding. There’s something wrong with the wood next to the handle. It’s popping up a little. I run my fingers over the bump. Luke said he could bust our door open in seconds. But maybe it has always been that way. Yes, it’s probably just in my head.
I turn the light on and drop my bag on the coffee table. I listen for Mandy. There’s only a dead hum. I walk down the hallway toward her room.
Her door is ajar. It’s never ajar. It’s closed when she leaves. It’s closed when she’s there.
I call her name. I press my hands against the walls and wait.
There’s no answer. I creak along the hallway, slowly, like I don’t want to find whatever is in Mandy’s room. And I don’t. Something is off. I know it before I know it.
What would Mandy have done? She’d call Zachary to confront him. She’d try to take the power back. It’s all about power. It’s all about shedding vulnerability and relinquishing fear.
But not when you’re up against a possible psycho.
Mandy’s desk chair is turned over. A glass of water is spilled on the carpet. The fibers are dented with the liquid. I bend down and hold my shaking hand to it. It’s damp. And her phone, it’s on her desk. My chest tightens. Wherever she is, she doesn’t have her phone.
I stare at her iPhone much longer than I should, before pulling out my own and calling Luke. Maybe I should call the cops first. But Luke is a cop. And he will take me seriously.
As I wait for him, I stare at the nightstand. Zachary’s notebook is gone.
Luke’s at my door ten minutes later. “I can’t stay long,” he starts. “Someone attacked Sally’s—”
He pauses in the doorframe, looking at my red, burnt knuckles, my smoky face. “Were you there?” He lifts my hand.
“Yeah,” I say. “But I’m fine.” And I am. It doesn’t hurt, much. And I’ll be shiny as new in a few hours. I don’t know if I can say the same for Mandy.
I shush him as he goes on about first aid and push him along ’til we’re in Mandy’s room. Thankfully, the potential crime scene focuses him. He looks over the area, asking if I’ve touched anything. Asking if Mandy has said anything. Asking if she’s acted strangely.
“No, not strange at all—oh except for getting purple eyes and being stuck in a quarantine where someone may be trying to kill us!” My voice is hoarse and I lean my head against the inside of the door and start bawling. I’m a hiccupping mess.
Luke holds me and brushes back my hair. “She may not even be missing. And if she is, we’ll find her, Quinn. I’ll find her.”
“Zachary took her,” I say, trying to keep my chin still. “I told Mandy he was behind it all. I’m sure Mandy confronted him and he must have taken her somewhere to shut her up.”
Luke’s eyes go hard. But he waits. I start talking with my hands and, amidst all the gesticulations and frantic thoughts, I’m somehow able to tell him what Rashid and I found. At the mention of Rashid, Luke’s lips move together and his arms cross, but he stays quiet. It’s freeing, being able to talk. Having him listen.
When I finish, I expect him to grab his phone and rush off to Zachary’s house to arrest him. That’s what’s supposed to happen. So why is he still standing there, looking at me?
“Quinn,” he says. “We’ll talk to Zachary. As soon as Mandy has been missing for twenty-four hours, we’ll investigate and he’ll be the first one on my list. Trust me.”
“That’s too long,” I say. “She’s in trouble, Luke. I know it.”
“Quinn,” he says patiently, with a big breath filling his chest. “Police resources are already stretched. And all I have here is a girl who forgot her phone in a messy room before she got a cup of joe and hunkered down somewhere to study. Hell, you told me yourself you saw her three hours ago.”
My mouth hangs open. I whimper. “She’s gone.”
Luke reaches for me. I step back. He sighs. “I’m sorry, Quinn. I’ll do what I can, of course. I’ll help you. But we can’t just arrest Zachary based on our hunches.”
Fine. Fight the battles you can win.
“So you can’t do anything about this,” I say, my wrists limp as my hands float around the room. “But you’re looking into Zachary about the disease, right?” My voice is growing gruff. My head is pounding.
I don’t understand why Luke’s shoulders round over his chest. “We are, but it’s slow going.” He shakes his head. “We got a warrant to look through his lab. We talked to health and human services about getting access to any research at Poe that might be related to the disease.”
“And you got it?” I ask.
“Well, not exactly,” Luke says, scratching his chin and looking at the ground.
“What?” I say.
“The NSA has moved to quash the warrant,” Luke says.
“The NSA? You mean the National Security Agency? What does this have to do with—”
“I don’t know, Quinn,” Luke says, hands on his hips. “They won’t let us look at his research. They say it has nothing to do with the disease, but Chief Erikson and I think the lot of them are full of shit.” He shrugs. “Still, as far as Zachary and his government-funded research goes, my hands are tied.”
My body feels like it weighs nothing. My legs decide they don’t want to work—I stumble and Luke catches me. He gets me to sit on the bed and he smooths my hair and brushes my cheek. “Quinn, listen to me. I never let a few hurdles get in my way. If Mandy’s missing, I’ll find her and I’ll deliver her back to this room safe as a tick on a dog with a stiff neck.”
I wish I could believe him.