to speak of. Or that we know of. Just a lipstick.”
Hobbs steepled his hands in front of his mouth. “Serial kidnapper? Is that even a thing? I don’t know. The only thing I do know is, I think this guy Westcott has a point, and I wonder if there are more girls we don’t know about.”
A violent chill ran along my spine. “Maybe we should email him? See if he gets back to us? He might not want to talk to us, but it’s worth a try.”
Hobbs took his phone back. “I’ll do it.”
“When you’re done, you take Jasmine Franks, who’s been missing for two months, and look at her Facebook page. I’ll take Kerry Carver and the other girl, Lisa Simons—who, by the way, has been missing for three months.”
As we both took to the task of scouring Facebook pages and Twitter timelines, a comfortable silence fell between us, the clack of my fingers on my keyboard the only interruption.
When my eyes became gritty and sore, I looked away from the computer, reaching up toward the ceiling to stretch my arms. “I’ve got a big fat bupkiss from these Facebook and Twitter pages. How about you?”
Hobbs squeezed his temples and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. “Same here. Other than the initial details of their alleged abductions, and the pleas for their safety and for the police to look into it, there’s not much else. There are tons of prayers being sent up and ‘I miss you’s’ posted, but nothing that sends up any smoke signals.”
Looking at the time on my laptop, my hot chocolate long gone cold, I realized it was almost two in the morning, and that made me yawn. “I’m going to send the girls’ parents a message on Facebook and see if they won’t talk to me.”
Hobbs reached across the table and laced his fingers with mine. “You’re exhausted. You need to get some rest, Hal.”
But not him. He looked fresh as a daisy. “How come you look like you just rolled out of bed after a refreshing twelve-hour nap?”
He shrugged and grinned sheepishly as he tucked his phone into his back pocket. “I’m a night owl, I guess. I’m used to being up this late.”
“Oh, yeah, I remember seeing the lights on in the cottage one night when I got up for some aspirin. It was pretty late, as I recall.”
“I like the night. We see eye to eye on a lot of things. The peace and quiet being one of them. No phones, no doorbells. It’s a great time to do a crossword puzzle.”
Chuckling, I understood. Running a busy factory, I spent the day with a lot of boisterous workers, not to mention some rather noisy machines. Peace and quiet was a small blessing from time to time.
“So let’s call it a day for the moment? Uncle Darling’s going to need all my attention tomorrow, with the way things are shaping up with Uncle Monty, but fingers crossed these girls’ parents will at least give me the time of day.”
Hobbs rose and grabbed his coat, pulling it over his arms. “Okey-dokey. I’ll do some more poking around online before I go to bed, but if you’re okay with it, I’ll be back tomorrow to help out.”
My heart clenched in my chest. “That would be really nice. I’ll make sure we have plenty of biscuits and gravy ready in your honor.”
He grinned, his expression surprised. “You know how to make biscuits and gravy?”
I didn’t, but I bet Atti did, and what good was magic if you couldn’t use it to make someone else happy? At least, that was how I planned to sell it to Atti.
“Don’t you worry your little cowboy head about what I know,” I said in a really bad Southern accent. “Just be back here for breakfast around nine or so.”
Making his way around the table, he grabbed my fingers and gave them a squeeze. “See you then, Hal. G’night.”
He whistled to Stephen King, who’d been lying by the fireplace in the dining room, and the next thing I heard was the jingle of the door as it closed. Then, for the moment, I was alone.
Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples.
“Headache, Poppet?” Atti asked, his deep voice resonating in my ear as he flew to my shoulder, his soft wings brushing against my forehead.
“Tension headache, I guess. Tension and worry about Uncle Monty and Uncle Darling. How are you?”
He brushed his wing along my cheek,