Blindsighted (Grant County #1) - Karin Slaughter Page 0,115

in the same room together. Moon had said that Wright had let himself go in prison, that the chiseled threat to his body had been replaced by soft fat, but Sara still saw him as she had that day twelve years ago. His skin was tight to his bones, his veins sticking out along his arms. His expression was a carved study in hatred, his teeth gritting in a menacing smile as he raped her.

Sara gave an involuntary shudder. Her life for the last twelve years had been spent blocking Wright out of her mind, and having him back now, in whatever form, be it through Jeffrey or a stupid postcard, was making her feel violated all over again. She hated Jeffrey for that, mostly because he was the only one who could suffer any impact from her hatred.

“Hold on,” Jeb said, snapping her out of her reflection. Jeb cupped his hand to his ear, listening. The thumping noise was still there as water dripped into the downspout.

“This is going to drive me crazy,” he said, over the thump, thump, thump of the water.

“I can see that,” she said, thinking that five minutes of the dripping sound was already giving her a headache.

Jeb came down off the ladder, tucking the hammer back into his belt. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” she answered. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

She took a deep breath, then said, “About our rain check.” She looked up at the sky. “Why don’t you come over to the house around two for a late lunch? I’ll get some takeout from the deli in Madison.”

He smiled, an unexpected nervous edge to his voice. “Yeah,” he answered. “That sounds great.”

26

Jeffrey tried to keep his focus on driving, but there was too much going on in his mind to concentrate. He had not slept all night, and exhaustion was taking over his body. Even after pulling over to the side of the road for a thirty-minute nap, he still did not feel like his head was on straight. Too much was happening. Too many things were pulling him in different directions at the same time.

Mary Ann Moon had promised to subpoena the employment records from Grady Hospital dating back to the time Sara had worked there. Jeffrey prayed that the woman was as good as her word. She had estimated that the records would be available for Jeffrey’s perusal sometime Sunday afternoon. Jeffrey’s only hope was that a name from the hospital would sound familiar. Sara had never mentioned anyone from Grant working with her back in those days, but he still needed to ask her. Three calls to her house had gotten him her machine. He knew better than to leave a message for her to call. The tone of her voice last night had been enough to convince him that she would probably never talk to him again.

Jeffrey pulled the Town Car into the station parking lot. He needed to go home to shower and change, but he also had to show his face at work. His trip to Atlanta had taken more time than planned, and Jeffrey had missed the early morning briefing.

Frank Wallace was walking out the front door as Jeffrey put the car in park. Frank tossed a wave before walking around the car and getting in.

Frank said, “The kid’s missing.”

“Lena?”

Frank gave a nod as Jeffrey put the car in gear.

Jeffrey asked, “What happened?”

“Her uncle Hank called at the station looking for her. He said the last he saw of her she was in the kitchen right after that Matthews went south.”

“That was two days ago,” Jeffrey countered. “How the hell did this happen?”

“I left a message on her machine. I figured she was lying low. Didn’t you give her time off?”

“Yeah,” Jeffrey answered, feeling guilt wash over him. “Hank’s at her house?”

Frank gave another nod, slipping on his seat belt as Jeffrey pushed the car past eighty. Tension filled the car as they drove toward Lena’s house. When they got there, Hank Norton was sitting on the front porch waiting.

Hank jogged to the car. “Her bed hasn’t been slept in,” he said as a greeting. “I was at Nan Thomas’s house. Neither one of us had heard from her. We assumed she was with you.”

“She wasn’t,” Jeffrey said, offering the obvious. He walked into Lena’s house, scanning the front room for clues. The house had two stories, like most homes in the neighborhood. The kitchen, dining room, and living room were on the main level, with two bedrooms and