her.”
“Relax, Riley, and learn something. Read enough of their texts, and you can sound just like them. Carly, for instance. Especially when you send it from Carly’s phone.”
Hicks finished typing.
“Get in your car, Riley. We don’t have to find her. She’ll come to me.”
Hicks sent the text, and went to get Isabel.
51.
Isabel
The roiling, rushing crash of breaking waves thundered across the sand. Isabel huddled beneath the lifeguard stand, waiting for Joe. She had bundled herself in three of the thick terry robes, but they were already damp. She was cold. Isabel held her phone underneath the robes to keep it dry.
The lifeguard stand was an elevated wooden shack the size of a closet. It sat on posts four feet above the sand, allowing the lifeguards a better view of the surf. Now, at night, it sat shuttered and empty. Isabel sat between the posts, watching the mouth of an access path that emerged between two homes. Joe hadn’t mentioned the path, but here it was. The beach was so dark the path was swallowed in shadows.
Her phone vibrated with an incoming text.
A wave of relief hit her so hard she almost gasped.
Izzy assumed the text was from Joe, who had finally arrived, but when she checked her phone she saw a text from Carly.
Iz! Hey, gurl, I’m here! Where are you?
Isabel read the text twice, and felt totally confused. She typed a response.
Where here? I don’t understand.
A few seconds later, Carly responded.
The Bu! At PAN’s. I had to see it. And you!
But nobody’s here.
PAN was shorthand for Peter Alan Nelsen, which Izzy had used when they texted earlier.
Isabel felt a rush of panic. Her heart raced so fast she trembled.
You’re here? NOW???
Duh! At the door!
Which nobody answers!
GO! GET AWAY FROM THE HOUSE! RUN!
This isn’t funny. I drove all the way out here.
PLEASE go! Those men are coming.
They know I was there.
They’ll hurt you!
For real?
YES!!! RUN!
You’re scaring me.
RUN! Get away!
Now I’m really scared.
Where are you?
Go, baby! Get in your car, drive away! PLEASE!
I’m scared! Are you close?
I’ll come to you.
I’m waiting for Joe.
I’ll wait with you.
I’ll pick you up. PLEASE!
Carly would get herself killed if she didn’t leave.
Okay. Drive to the access path. It’s five houses away. There’s a sign.
Wait in the car. I’ll jump in.
xoxo
Isabel pushed to her feet and stumbled toward the path. The wet sand gave, and sucked at her feet, but once she reached the path, she moved quickly between the houses.
She popped out of the path at the edge of the PCH shoulder, looking for Carly’s Volkswagen. Peter’s house wasn’t far. This time of night, with almost no traffic, Carly should have been waiting.
Isabel stepped to the edge of the highway. She looked toward Peter’s, then turned, and looked behind her. Carly’s white Beetle was nowhere, and neither was Carly.
Isabel grew afraid. The highway seemed deserted. No cars approached, and she saw no other people. Joe had said he was close, but Joe hadn’t arrived. Isabel backed away from the shoulder. She wished she had never left the lifeguard stand. Joe told her to wait, and that’s where she should have stayed.
Isabel ran back along the path, but suddenly stopped. A shadow moved ahead. A man, coming toward her.
The man said, “Gotcha.”
Isabel turned, and slammed face-first into a second man.
The man threw his arms around her. Isabel screamed.
52.
Joe Pike
They rolled past Tuna Canyon on an empty black ribbon. PCH was deserted. As if people sensed something worse than rain was approaching. The wipers shhchoonked, shhchoonked, brushing aside a sprinkle.
Cole murmured in the Jeep’s quiet darkness.
“Close now. Quarter-mile. Ahead on the right.”
Pike saw a dim light, and called Isabel.
“We’re close. You okay?”
“I’m freezing.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
Pike hung up and called Braun.
“Quarter-mile east. You?”
“I’m a mile behind you.”
“The marshals?”
“Inbound.”
Cole said, “What about the sheriffs?”
“Two two-man cars. I hope this isn’t bullshit. DeLako gets cranky when I pull her away from her boyfriend.”
DeLako spoke in the background.
“Eat me.”
Pike slowed as the fish shack rolled into view. A single car sat beside the building, but Pike saw no one in or around it.
“We’ve got a car here. One vehicle.”
“Is it them?”
Stegner leaned forward to see.
“That’s Blanch.”
Cole said, “I don’t see anyone.”
“The car, not Blanch. That’s his car.”
Pike relayed the info to Braun.
“Stegner says it belongs to one of Hicks’s people. Looks empty.”
“Wait for us.”
“Isabel’s just ahead.”
“I’m right behind you. Wait.”
Pike didn’t want to wait.
“I’ll drive by and keep rolling.”
“Just wait. The marshals are right behind us.”
Pike drifted onto the shoulder and into the parking lot. Cole drew his pistol and