Momentarily overwhelmed, Natalie sat in the car and could feel her face throbbing with exhaustion. The neighborhood was ghostly at night. The wind howled cinematically, as if piped in through speakers hanging in the trees. Grace’s front yard sloped down toward the street, where the garbage cans were lined up for tomorrow morning’s pickup.
Okay. What was the best strategy? If Natalie searched Twitter or Instagram or Facebook long enough, she’d eventually find out where Ellie had gone tonight. Most teenagers wanted to be famous and posted pictures of themselves on their social media sites, especially at parties or events. If you combed through the comments section long enough, you might discover a secret social media account where teens posted pictures they didn’t want their mothers to see. But that would take time.
She decided to try a more direct route. Natalie had previously stored the girls’ numbers on her contact list, and now she tapped one of the names.
Sadie Myers picked up. “Hello?”
“This is Detective Lockhart, Ellie’s aunt. Please don’t hang up.”
“Aunt Natalie?” she whispered nervously.
“Where’s Ellie?”
“I don’t know.”
“Listen, Sadie, you aren’t in any trouble, okay? Do you understand?”
“Uh-huh,” she whispered.
Natalie could hear party noises in the background. “Where are you?”
“Um, with some friends.”
“Where?”
“At an old farm.”
“Have you heard from Ellie tonight?” she asked.
“No, I mean … yes, she was here. But she’s not anymore.”
Natalie’s heart rate spiked. “Where did she go?”
“They took off, the three of them … Ellie, India, and Berkley.”
“Where are you right now? What’s the address?”
Sadie gave her the information.
“Okay. Now listen very carefully. Don’t tell a soul that I’m coming,” Natalie said sternly. “Understand?”
Sadie was compliant. “I won’t. I promise.”
“Wait for me there,” she said and hung up.
Natalie sped across town and took a series of back roads through the woods until she came to a run-down farmstead on the west side of town, where dozens of cars were parked out front. Several rusty signs warned PRIVATE PROPERTY—KEEP OUT.
She got out of her car and scanned the abandoned farm. Nothing had changed in years. The weathered Gothic sat at the end of a weedy driveway. The barbed-wire fence was choked with nettles. The azaleas were in bloom. A tattered American flag waved in the damp breeze.
Natalie could hear booming music coming from behind the old Dutch barn. There weren’t any nearby neighbors to get alarmed at the noise, which made it the perfect place for an underage party. She headed across the field, while moonlight fell on the decrepit outbuildings and boarded-up sheds. The orchard had reverted to its natural state—wild fruit trees draped with climbing vines. By midsummer, the crab apples would ripen and fall to the ground, making a pulpy feast for the bees.
Natalie waded through the knee-high ryegrass while the moon disappeared behind the slate-gray clouds. She aimed her flashlight at the salvage cars in the yard, pieces of rust-eaten machinery and miscellaneous farm equipment. The party was in full swing out back. She could see the glow of the bonfire before she turned the corner of the barn.
The area was clogged with at least fifty kids. Earsplitting music throbbed in the air. Beer bottles and crumpled bags of leftovers from the Cheesecake Factory and Taco Bell were scattered around the bonfire.
Underage parties could be dangerous. Overdoses were common. When Natalie was a rookie on the night shift, she had been occasionally called to scenes like this one, where teenagers were “skittling,” taking random pills and falling unconscious. A girl had died while participating in the Strangulation Game—said to increase euphoria.
Now a bra winged through the air. There were puke stains in the grass. A group of girls were holding hands and swaying to the pounding bass line, lost in a trance of mesmerizing repetition. A group of boys tossed their beer bottles into the woods, shouting as the glass shattered.
Natalie didn’t want to cause a panic. If she flashed her badge, there could be a stampede, and someone might get hurt. She’d been trained to use discretion. Tonight, she would have to find Ellie first, and then she’d call Dispatch.
She passed a group of teenagers who were wandering around in the meadow, thumbing through their phones. Natalie scrutinized a dozen wasted faces, but couldn’t find Ellie’s face among them. A leggy girl in a black denim outfit was standing over by the sprawling Japanese maples, staring down at her phone with a disturbed look on her face.
“Sadie?”
She turned with stunned-raccoon eyes. “Hi, Aunt Natalie. I waited, just like you said.”
“Where is she?”
“They ghosted about fifteen minutes ago,” Sadie lisped.
“Do you have any idea where they went?”
“India said she wanted to teach Ellie a lesson.”
Natalie tried not to panic. “What lesson?”
Sadie’s eyes were glazed; she had a difficult time staying focused. “They were laughing at us,” she said defensively, “because we made the mistake of looking at cute puppies on YouTube. I guess that’s a crime now. Anyway, they got angry and said we needed to grow up. They were mad at Ellie for quitting the coven.” She shivered and hugged herself. “Ellie tried to reason with them, but they wouldn’t listen.”
Natalie clutched Sadie’s arm. “Where did they take her?”
The girl’s eyes widened with fear. “They told me not to tell. They said they’d get me next.”
Natalie softened her grip. “It’s okay. I’ll protect you. Where did they take her?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she confessed, “Abby’s Hex.”