In near disbelief, Susan hung on every word as Mark told his story. At times he stumbled, most often on the graphic details, and when he did, she held his hand; it seemed to help. When he finished, she had to lower her window and take in the crisp air. He did the same.
It was coming up on nine. Snow continued to fall. Susan felt those horrible eyes watching them. She wondered if Mark felt them, too.
“Tell me I’m crazy,” Mark said.
“The way things are going, I’m not the one to ask,” Susan said. She closed her window. Again she felt compelled to tell him everything. Again she stopped herself. “Mark?”
“Yeah.”
“Was Ellis crazy? I mean, before?”
Mark hesitated. “Maybe.”
“Is it possible that what happened to Ellis has anything to do with these missing kids?”
Mark shrugged limply. He seemed to be avoiding the question, rather than not knowing its answer.
“You think it does,” Susan said. “You wouldn’t have told me, otherwise.”
“I know it does, Susan. Somehow, it does.”