A noise? Anything?’
The boy glanced at his mother, then shook his head. ‘I was playing Zelda most of the day.’
‘What’s Zelda?’
‘One of his Nintendo games,’ Jack said.
Ellis felt Emma’s eyes on his back, but as he turned to face her she looked at her feet.
‘How about you, Emma? Do you have any idea where your sister might be?’
She shook her head.
‘Did you notice anything unusual on your way home from school today? Anything at all?’
‘No. I-I don’t think so.’
It looked like she had something to say.
‘You sure? The smallest detail might end up being helpful.’
‘I told you; I didn’t see anything.’
Nodding, Ellis stood and turned back to Sammy’s parents. ‘Can I see her room, please?’
Sammy’s bedroom was a magical mess of pastel pinks and deep purples. A big toy chest in one corner was bulging with stuffed animals. On the walls hung framed pictures of Sammy’s family, some childish drawings, a giant pink ‘S’ covered with silver glitter, and two movie posters: Honey, I Shrunk the Kids and The Little Mermaid.
There were more toys on the bed – a couple of dolls and more stuffed animals. Marked against the tangled, unmade bed covers was the vague outline of a small body. Ellis’s stomach churned.
He went to the window. It was large enough for a child to crawl through, but far too high for a two-year-old to reach. Even if Sammy had managed to grab hold of the ledge, she’d never be able to hoist herself up. Also, the drop on the other side was close to twelve feet. Considering there wasn’t the limp body of a little girl in the garden bed below, it was a pretty safe bet Sammy didn’t go out the window – at least not on her own. ‘So this was open when you came in?’
‘Wide open,’ Molly said. ‘I checked outside for boot prints below the window or marks from a ladder, but I couldn’t find anything.’
Jack shot a glance at Molly.
Ellis put his back to the window and looked across the room, through the bedroom door and into the hallway beyond. ‘And this door was closed when you put Sammy down for her nap?’
‘No,’ Jack said. ‘We never close the door. Sammy can’t reach the handle and she doesn’t like being locked in. Right, Molly?’
Molly kept her gaze on Ellis. ‘She was being especially cranky, so I …’
‘You shut the door?’ Jack said. ‘She hates it when you do that.’
‘You weren’t here and you never are.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Where were you when I called the drugstore?’
‘Can we please do this later?’
Ellis turned back to the window and looked out. From this vantage point he had a clear line of sight over to the Eckles’ house. Afternoon was slowly shifting into evening, and the darkness creeping in over Manson felt heavy.
A weathered length of cord had been used in place of a latch. Ellis untied it and swung the gate open with an eerie, horror-movie creak. The NO TRESPASSING sign rattled in place. He looked up at the Eckles’ house, set deep in the yard, and started to walk.
Ellis had crossed this yard some years earlier, flanked by seven armed deputies. They were there to arrest Patrick Eckles for aggravated assault. Patrick had beaten Roger Albom’s head in with a pool cue over at Cubby’s Bar, and nobody had been exactly sure why.
The porch light buzzed on, exposing a broken screen door and a dusty old sofa. As the front door opened, some base, primal instinct sent Ellis’s hand to his holstered .45. He didn’t need to produce the pistol; he just needed to remind himself it was there. And it wouldn’t hurt to remind whoever answered the door too.
Ellis squinted into the dark of the house. A small woman stepped outside and into the light, can of beer in one hand, cigarette in the other.
‘Evening, Mrs Eckles. Mind if I have a quick word?’
Ava Eckles was an unremarkable-looking woman with tangled blonde hair, wiry arms and a fat, protruding belly. She wore black leggings and an old, loose-fitting, pink T-shirt on which Ellis could just make out the words 2% Angel, 98% Naughty.
‘I figured someone would be stopping by eventually,’ Ava said, dragging on her cigarette. ‘I’ve been watching your men all going door-to-door. Ours was the only place they didn’t visit.’
‘I need to ask you about Sammy Went. Jack and Molly Went’s daughter from down the street – you know ’em?’
By way of an answer she tossed her cigarette into the yard and lit another one.
‘Sammy is missing, Mrs Eckles. Did you see or hear anything unusual this afternoon?’
She folded her arms across her chest. ‘Only interesting thing I ever see ’round here is on the TV, Sheriff.’
‘Did you notice any unusual cars or people you didn’t recognise?’
She sucked on her cigarette and shook her head.
‘And you were home all day?’
‘Do I look like the sort of woman who has any place to be?’
‘What about your boy, Travis?’
‘What about Travis?’
‘Did he see or hear anything strange this afternoon?’
‘You’d have to ask him.’
‘I’d like to,’ Ellis said. ‘Is he home?’
‘He’s working.’
‘Is he still at Clinical Cleaning?’
‘It’s honest work.’
‘Won’t get no argument from me.’
Ava took a step toward him. She was a foot shorter than Ellis but possessed an unpredictable wildness that put him on edge. ‘You sure have a hard-on for this family, don’t you, Sheriff?’
‘I—’
‘Little girl goes missing and you assume an Eckles has something to do with it. It’s not enough you locked up one of my sons, now you’re looking to lock up the other.’
‘We’re asking everyone in the street if they’ve—’
‘I think it’s time you called it a night, Sheriff. If you stick ’round I’m
