found a couple of things. That sign Adam made—Missouri or Bust— was on the kitchen floor over there. There are triangles drawn on the back—like those quilt symbols you made with the kids.”
A small gasp came through the phone. “Hold on. I’ve got the book here.” He heard shuffling. “I’ve got it. How are the triangles arranged?”
He held the paper in the sunlight. The markings were reddish brown, the lines smudged, like they’d been drawn with a finger. In the morning heat, a faint scent wafted from the paper. Cinnamon. Adam. God, let this please tell us something. Tears blocked his vision. He blinked them away and took a deep breath. “Two opposite corners are shaded…triangles. The other two aren’t. There’s a square in the middle made of two white and two brown triangles that meet in the center.”
Pages shuffled. “Are there four white and four colored all together?”
“Yes.”
“It’s…if I got it right, it’s called broken dishes. It says it refers to a signal that involves broken crockery at some future landmark.”
“Broken crockery? That doesn’t make sense.”
“But maybe it will. Tell the police. Have you talked to them?”
“They just got here.”
“Tell them. I don’t know what it means, but tell them.”
Topher opened the back door and waved for him to come in. “I have to go.”
“If there’s anything…”
“I will.”
The crunch of gravel under the tires woke Adam. It was light out. He’d told himself to stay awake. “Where are we?”
“We’re camping. We’re going to have fun. It’s what families do.”
A picnic table outside his window was the only sign of civilization. Ben had backed the Suburban onto the cement pad of a campsite. From the backseat, all Adam could see was trees. No campers. No tents. Nobody camps on a Monday. Still, there had to be someone around. “I have to pee.”
“Wake up your sister. We’ll take a walk. Holding hands like happy families do.”
When they came back from the bathroom, Ben sat on the picnic table bench with his elbow on Lexi’s hand. “Get out the food.” He looked at Adam and pointed to the back of the Suburban.
Adam nodded. This was his chance. At the very least he could pull his backpack closer to the door so he could grab it later. Ben had to fall asleep sometime. As he opened the door, he realized his hands had quit shaking a long time ago. He wasn’t scared anymore. Maybe God took it away, or maybe he was just too mad to be scared. They’d get away, he knew they could. He just had to be smart and wait for the right time.
“Bring me that green bag.”
Adam stared at the green bag. “I think I put it in front with the cooler.”
“Get it.”
The bag didn’t weigh much. He picked it up by the loop handles and tossed it over the back of the seat, praying it wouldn’t make a sound. It didn’t. Before he shut the back door, his hand slipped into his backpack and pulled out his knife. Was Ben really dumb enough to think he wouldn’t try? As the red plastic hit his palm, the idea flashed like a picture in a book. He walked along the side of the car, opened the passenger side door, and the knife.
He crouched low over the seat. God, let this work. He jammed the thin, tapered file into the ignition as far as it would go then yanked it to the side as hard as he could. It broke. Thank God. With the half inch of file left, he shoved the piece of metal in deep. Irretrievable.
Reaching between the seats, he snagged the green bag.
Ben had his hand out, ready to grab it when he walked around the back of the Suburban. “Got a little treat for my kiddies.” He took the bag and pulled out a bottle.
Adam recognized the green liquid.
NyQuil.
Emily paced between two double beds and an old TV, back and forth from window to door, willing her phone to ring. She’d gotten the room because she was too scared to drive home after so long without sleep. Now that she was here, she wished she was on her way. Strange that home was the word that immediately came to mind.
“Lord, You know exactly where they are. You see them. Keep them safe. Don’t let them be scared or—” Her phone rang. She flipped it open without looking at it.
“We found something else. Might be nothing. “Jake was hoarse, but there was a lift to his voice she