Twilight had turned to dusk by the time the helicopter left, robbing them of the last hints of light. Grace had taken Creed on several paths, but stayed out of the woods. That surprised Creed. He thought for sure Will might have gone off to play in the forest. And now he felt a dread weighing down on his shoulders. As they continued to cross off all the reasons for a boy playing hooky on a day of adventure, all that remained were more sinister situations on the list.
When Creed and Grace finally made it over the highway to find and join Jason and Brodie, it was dark. A sliver of moonlight peeked through the canopy of trees, then disappeared behind clouds.
Darkness.
Creed could feel it like an ominous presence ready to undermine every decision and exaggerate every shadow as a threat. Experience nagged at him, told him their search got tougher without the benefit of daylight.
This neighborhood was completely different from the large estates across the highway. Here, small houses sat tight together with narrow driveways between them. And those driveways were filled with a variety of vehicles and trailers sometimes overflowing with other parked vehicles along the curbs.
Small front yards kept the front porches and front windows close to the streets, so that the yellow lights from inside leaked out and created shadows in the front yards. There were few sidewalks and even fewer streetlights.
Screen doors slapped. Dogs barked from behind chain-link fences. Somewhere an engine revved. The night birds and insects began their symphonies. The smell of someone’s dinner, greasy and partially burnt, wafted on the humid night air. A block over, Creed smelled cigarette smoke before he saw the cherry-red tip bobbing under the dark shadows of a carport.
He remembered parts of this neighborhood from when he and Jason had driven to Caleb Monroe’s house. The teenager’s parents weren’t the only ones not welcoming strangers. He had felt that from inside his Jeep that day. And it was even more unsettling walking through these streets now and in the dark. Though he couldn’t see them, he could feel their eyes following.
He was grateful he and Grace weren’t the only strangers drawing attention. Police cruisers dotted several streets as troopers and deputies knocked on doors. Some searched between the parked vehicles, sweeping beams from their flashlights to check the underbellies of trailers and pickups.
The one thing Creed noticed was that very few residents had come out to see what the commotion was or to offer help.
Now Jason explained how Scout had gone around in circles for several blocks.
“He kept going back to the same two houses,” Jason explained. “Only he was taking me there from different directions. At one of the houses, he led me right to the front door.”
“I contacted the sheriff,” Brodie told Creed. “A couple of deputies talked to a woman who lives there. She admitted her daughter knows Will from school. He’d ridden his bike over, but that was about a week ago.”
“What about the other house?”
“Scout wanted to go into the backyard. The gate was left open.”
“A deputy reported nobody was home. At least not yet,” Brodie said.
“I didn’t let him go into the yard.” Jason’s eyes darted around before he added, “I think we need to be careful. Just the looks we’ve been getting. These people don’t like having this kind of police presence in their neighborhood. And they consider us a part of the police.”
“Let’s stick close together, then. But give Scout a rest. I’ll see if Grace picks up the scent.” As Creed said this, he saw her nose poking the air and her head swaying back and forth. He didn’t need to ask her to find Will. She was already working the scent of him.
Before he followed, he glanced back at Brodie. “Is Grace headed in the same direction?” He didn’t want to repeat the circles Scout had just finished.
She checked her map again, then scanned the surrounding houses. “No, that was to our left. About three blocks over.”
Grace’s nose twitched now. She was ready to go, looking back at the two of them and impatiently tugging on the leash. She darted from street to curb, taking in any foliage—mostly patches of lawn and a few shrubs—then weaved up and down into front yards. She ignored dogs barking in her wake, as they clawed and jumped to get out of their fenced backyards.
Creed realized his fingers were checking for the pepper spray on his belt in case one of these dogs managed to get out. Tension prickled at the back of his neck. There was something familiar about this street.
It didn’t take long for Grace to race up a long driveway. She stood on hind legs and sniffed the back of a large crew cab pickup, then abruptly and calmly came to a halt. She sat down and looked up at Creed just as a voice behind them came out of the dark from the house’s front porch.
“Get that dog out of my driveway. And get that Pit bull the hell out of here.”
“Hold on, sir,” Brodie said from the street. “We’re searching for a little boy. A seven-year-old named—”
“Yeah, whatever. He isn’t here. Now get those frickin’ dogs off my property.”
“No problem,” Creed told him. “Come on, Grace.” He stalled, digging out her squeaky toy from his daypack. To Hank’s credit, he stood calmly at Brodie’s side, but Creed could hear a low, quiet growl as his eyes stayed on the man.
Creed tossed the toy for Grace to catch. Her prancing gave him enough time to get a good look at the pickup. A load of fertilizer bags stacked high in the bed. Then he noticed the sign on the vehicle’s door: MONROE LANDSCAPING.