Type up a ticket for Steven . . . Steven Frelong. A oneway ticket to Newark. First class.
Without protest, Jamie did as the voice in her mind commanded. Then she leaned into the microphone on her desk and began to page Steven.
It took a few calls before Steven realized he was Steven Frelong. He felt himself fill with an overwhelming sense of panic. They’d found him! Eric and Rachel had come after him!
“Please pick up your ticket at the Mattituck Airlines counter.”
Steven sighed with relief. Now he understood what Marty had been up to. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten hold of a ticket, but he didn’t ask. He simply walked until he found the desk and took the folder from the clerk.
She was smiling, but her eyes had a weird, glassy quality about them. Her “Have a nice flight, thank you for flying Mattituck Airlines” was unusually forced.
The moment Steven walked away from the counter, Jamie snapped to. She blinked a few times, looking around herself. A feeling that she’d lost some time came over her, but she couldn’t explain it. Then someone came up to her counter and the incident was completely forgotten.
Steven opened the folder and read the information about his flight. He gasped, realizing he was to take off in twenty minutes.
I saw no need to waste time.
Boy, you sure didn’t Are you sure this will work?
Just tell them the story you told the waitress. The one about your parents working.
You were awake! Steven’s tone was accusatory.
Sort of. Go on, they’re calling your flight.
Steven hurried to find the right gate. He followed a line of passengers, mostly business people, through a safety check-in. He held his breath as he passed the security guard, certain the man would reach out and grab him and make him explain what he was doing there all by himself.
But as he boarded, the flight attendant gave him the same friendly greeting as everyone else. He found his seat and tucked his bag in the overhead compartment. The big comfortable seat made him realize how tired he was. He took off his jacket and rolled it into a pillow. Lifting the armrest, he laid himself down as best as he could. He felt a tap on his shoulder and sat up to see the stewardess smiling at him.
“Here’s a pillow, honey,” she said. “Is your seat belt fastened?”
“Uh-huh,” Steven said groggily.
The stewardess smiled again. If she had any questions about him traveling alone, she didn’t voice them. Steven didn’t know if it was because she’d seen many children travel alone or if it was Marty’s influence.
He closed his eyes and listened as the captain welcomed them aboard Mattituck Airlines flight 6072 to Newark. By the time the plane was taxiing into position, he was nearly asleep.
But he came awake very suddenly.
Marty!
I’m here! Why are you yelling?
Steven quieted the voice in his mind.
Marty, you made Tatiana see something in the woods, didn’t you?
Go back to sleep, Steven.
Didn’t you?
But either Marty wasn’t answering or Steven really did fall asleep, because there were no more thoughts in his head.
27
SAMANTHA AND JULIE were playing Scrabble when the sound of a car’s engine made Julie jump from her chair and run to the window.
“There’s a red car outside,” she said. “A man’s getting out.”
Samantha went to the window herself. Wil Sherer had parked his sixty-nine Firebird at the end of the driveway. As they watched, he stopped halfway to the house and called to the dogs. They bounded up to him, wagging their tails in the friendly manner typical of Labs. Wil rubbed their heads briskly, then picked up a stick and threw it. True to their second name, “retriever,” the dogs bounded after the stick. Lady brought it back.
Samantha went to the back door and opened it.
“I hadn’t expected to see you so soon,” she said.
“Hadn’t expected to have information this fast,” Wil replied.
He came inside. He’d shaved that morning, and Samantha thought he looked much nicer without the beard. From the front, his short haircut made him look conservative. It wasn’t until he turned profile that you saw the longer tresses dangling down his back.
His smile was genuine when he looked at Julie. Samantha could tell at once he was a man who really liked children. Julie warmed to him immediately. Like the dogs, she seemed to know he was someone she could trust.
“Hi, pretty,” he said. “You must be Julie.”
Julie giggled. “Uh-huh.”
“I’m Wil Sherer,” the detective said, holding out a hand. Julie took it shyly, then let go. “I’m a detective. Do you know about me?”
“I told her you were helping us find her family,” Samantha said.