Carrie jumped out of her car, at the end of Cayne Road. The last time she had heard from Henry was more than forty minutes ago; then she’d gone through a dead patch.
She locked on the two cars. Hofer’s, the one she had seen in the two videos. And a gray Buick—the car Henry said he was now driving.
They were both here.
She’d tried his cell a dozen times over the last twenty minutes—and now she felt herself getting scared.
She called Jack and told him her location. He told her not to do anything herself—that he would handle things now and she was not, by any means, to venture in there. But Carrie said sorry, she couldn’t promise him that right now.
She hung up with him begging her: “Carrie! Carrie, listen!”
Then she called 911 and reached the local police. As calmly as she could, she told them where she was and why she was there. The dispatcher on the other end seemed like she’d never handled any emergency of this magnitude before. No way she understood the gravity of what was happening.
Carrie told her, “You send a team out here now!”
Then, checking her gun, she made her way toward the main house. A red, run-down, ranch-style home. She saw the heavy Realtor’s lock on the front door. Didn’t see any sign of activity or lights inside.
She didn’t like what she was feeling.
Cautiously, she inched her way around back, toward the woods. Where Henry said Hofer’s shed would be.
It was dark in there and plenty creepy. Carrie went a step at a time through the dense brush and branches, which she had to clear out of the way. Her pulse pounded like a big bass drum inside her. She had never done anything remotely like this in her life.
She begged her hands to stop trembling.
There it was. Hofer’s shack. A thin glow of light coming from the window. She looked around. Henry, where are you?
“Henry?”
A feeling of dread fell over her as she slowly advanced. The door was ajar. She didn’t hear a sound coming from inside, which made her heart beat only faster. She thought about waiting for backup to arrive, then she thought something terrible might have already happened, and she couldn’t take it any longer.
She was ten feet from the door. Henry, you better not have done anything stupid in there …