"You know, serial killers, the guys who bump off hookers."
Cyn considered. “Did you make the 911 call?"
"How?” he scoffed.
"So how'd the cops know to come?"
The boy shrugged. “Someone else called them, I guess."
"Did you talk to the police? Tell them what you saw?"
"Fuck no. I split when I heard the sirens. Didn't go far, in case they weren't coming here, but then they did, so...” He shrugged again.
Cyn stared at the ground, thinking hard. The killer had probably called it in. And why would he do that? Because he wanted it reported before the sun came up, because he wanted the cops to think vampire. She stood slowly, reaching into her backpack. “When's the last time you ate?” she asked casually.
Another shrug.
She pulled out several gift certificates for McDonalds, along with Liz's picture. She handed him the coupons. “Get yourself some food, share it if you want, but be sure you eat some of it yourself.” She flipped the photo. “Have you seen this girl?"
The boy glanced at the photo, but didn't say anything.
"You won't believe this, but I'm trying to help her."
"How do I know that?"
"You don't. Listen, I understand if you don't want to talk to me, but...” She found one of Luci's cards and held it out. “If you see the girl in the picture, give her this number. Tell her to call. Tell her Mirabelle says it's time for the cows to come home. That's important. She'll know what it means."
He gave Cyn a look that said he doubted her sanity. “Cows?"
"Yeah, I know, but tell her anyway. If you see her, that is."
He studied Luci's card with its information on the runaway shelter. “I've heard of this place,” he said, gesturing with the card.
"Yeah?"
"It's supposed to be all right."
"It is."
"Maybe I could call too?"
"Absolutely.” Cyn handed over a few more cards. “There's always room."
"I'm not saying I will."
"Nope. But just in case."
"That's right. Just in case."
Cyn walked away, thinking he might go to the shelter, knowing he probably wouldn't. But hoping he'd at least use the food coupons and not trade them away for booze or drugs. Can't save them all, Cyn.
She walked back to her truck slowly, tired and discouraged. She hated the runaway cases. These kids never wanted to talk to anyone, and with good reason, but it made her job much more difficult when she really did want to help out. She reached the Land Rover and beeped the locks open, throwing her backpack across the seat. On the other hand, this kid had seemed to recognize Liz's picture. Maybe he'd pass on the message. Maybe Liz would know her sister was looking for her and get in touch. Maybe.
The rising sun glared in her rearview mirror all the way back to Malibu. She pulled into the cool darkness of her garage with relief and closed the door behind her, shutting out the daylight. Ten minutes later, she was in her own bed, with the quiet sounds of the ocean lulling her to sleep. She told herself she didn't care if she dreamed or not. But it was a lie.
Chapter Twenty-eight
She woke up less than an hour later with the vague memory of a helicopter zooming down the beach. Irritated, she turned away from the open door and pulled the blanket up, determined to sink back into unconsciousness. After her third restless roll, she surrendered, throwing back the covers in disgust. She could never go back to sleep once she woke up and her mind started churning.