After checking over his shoulder, Gray planted his knee on the driver’s seat and popped open the glove box.
He pushed aside a pile of trash—candy wrapper, rubber bands, some crinkled paper, tissues—and found what he hoped was the registration for the car. Given that it was too dark, he smoothed out the piece of paper on the floor and pulled out his phone to take a picture. A quick flash lit up the cramped floorspace before Gray hurried to put everything back. He closed the door as soundlessly as he could and crept closer to the house wall.
Deep breaths.
Gray walked carefully toward the end of the house, and he saw Darius around the corner, not by the house, but at the edge of the road; the man was going through the mailbox.
Gray cursed the lack of light. Even the moon was useless.
He had to resort to another photo using the flash if he wanted a picture of the license plate at the back of the car.
He checked the house and the road once more, then took a quick shot.
“Hey,” Darius whispered. “Don’t do that.”
“I was being careful,” Gray whispered back. He pocketed his phone and returned to his inspection of the house. The first window on the front revealed a room so small that it should’ve been a closet. It was as if the two bedrooms had originally been one space, and then someone had put up a wall to split it into two. Whoever had drawn the short straw and gotten a closet for a room only had a single bed, a nightstand, and a chair. There was nothing else in there.
Gray dropped his gaze to the bottom of the window. Like everything else here, it had seen better days. The paint was peeling off, and some of the screws had come loose and rusted.
It was a house forgotten by the rest of the world, but it was no prison.
Jackie would be able to escape if he was here, which left two options. Basement or elsewhere, and Darius had only mentioned a basement very reluctantly. Technically plausible, yet kind of unlikely, because people didn’t build basements in the desert. The foundation was usually too rocky.
Gray moved on to the door next and deduced the same thing there. Escape was possible. The door was a shove or two from coming off its hinges.
As he went on to the last window, Darius joined him.
“I think he’s here,” Darius murmured under his breath. “Look into the hallway.”
Gray scanned the small kitchen first. There was a light in the window that seemed brighter than it probably was, and it showed mint-green cupboards, fading wallpaper, and a table with four chairs. Then he tilted his head to peer out into the hallway, and he narrowed his eyes at the floor. Poorly installed linoleum flooring with a plank wood design was curling up along the edges where the floor met the wall, but that wasn’t the only place. There was a cut-out square in the middle of the hall. A small rug had been thrown haphazardly on top but didn’t cover more than half of it. And coincidentally, a bump under the rug could only be one thing. A latch.
“You see it?”
Gray nodded. “It’s gotta be a basement.”
A shadow suddenly appeared across the floor, and Gray sucked in a breath and ducked down. At the same time, Darius dodged sideways and plastered himself to the house wall.
Gray peered up at him for direction.
Darius inched toward the window slowly, only to back away again. Then he pulled out his phone and rounded the corner of the house, though just for a second or two. Maybe he’d done it to shield the lit screen.
“Willow’s blowing up my phone.” He kept his voice down and tried glancing into the kitchen again. “He’s getting beer and—something. I can’t see. Maybe we should—wait.” He strained his neck to see better. “He’s heating something in the microwave.”
Gray sighed in frustration. “I wish we could get some confirmation.”
“I think we’re about to,” Darius murmured. “When I passed the living room, he was finishing his TV dinner. I don’t think this is for him.”
A silence followed, each second chipping away at Gray’s patience. Jackie hadn’t seen his parents since last year. If Gray remembered correctly, the guy had been kidnapped in August. Was it too long? Had Jackie reached his limit? It was a matter of time, nothing else. Everyone had a limit.
“Now,” Darius whispered. “He’s bringing the food to the basement. You