TEST TRIED TO run on the sidewalks, but it was not possible. If Jon Merryfield was truly going to see his Gregory and Scott, Test could run to their home in five minutes if she pushed it. But if she called ahead now and told them she was Merryfield’s assistant and he was running late, their reaction would tell her if Jon was expected by them or not.
She dialed 411 as she hurried. The number was unlisted.
Beneath the snow, the wet sidewalks were frozen and footing was hazardous. She slipped on the icy sidewalks, her heart heaving.
She was two blocks down from the house, across the street from the Village Fare, when she heard a man speaking loudly.
Jon Merryfield.
He stood just outside the light that lit up the area by the Dumpster, speaking into a cell phone.
He strapped a headlamp on his head, then took something from his jacket pocket. Test could not see what it was. Except that it briefly shone black and metallic before he slipped it back into his pocket.
Test ran across the street, slipping and falling as a truck trundled toward her, its headlights blinding her. She scrambled out of the way and got a purchase again as she rose to her feet and ran as swiftly as she could to the back of the Village Fare.
Jon was nowhere to be seen. All that remained were his footprints in the snow. They led straight into the dark woods; woods that were not navigable without the aid of a light.
Quick research had revealed that the thumbtack Test had found in the Merryfields’ yard, and the one stuck to the tree behind the restaurant, were used to mark trails in the woods so hunters could find their way to and from their deer stands in the dark. There were bound to be other tacks in the woods. Jon’s headlamp would reflect them, so he could find his way easily in the dark.
Without a light, Test would never catch him in. She tried her iPhone light, but it wasn’t bright enough. She needed to run all the way back around the woods to the schoolyard, take the long way.
She took off running.