Heartless (28 page)

I found the kitchen small, and mostly clean. Cabinets were polished, floors were swept, but everything was covered in that thin sheen of dust that settles on every surface of an empty house.

While the living room had been furnished, the kitchen was barren. Neither spoon nor knife, cup nor plate, graced its cabinets or drawers. The microwave stood empty. The refrigerator was empty, though it hummed quietly, standing guard, ready to do its job and make things cold as soon as someone moved back in. It seemed to long for a cheery souvenir magnet or even a cold bottle of beer.

I headed back to the living room with nothing new to share, into the room where bookshelves stood empty and closet doors hid absolutely nothing. Eli grew frustrated, shoving aside couch cushions and curtains hoping to find something, anything, that could lead us to Lucy. Finally, he flopped onto the couch, and Adam soon joined him.

“Nothing,” he said as he slid down beside Eli. “Absolutely nothing. Like I told you.” He looked satisfied.

“Ditto.” Eli leaned his forehead onto his hand, a gesture of defeat.

I’d just seen something, though. In a dark corner, hidden mostly behind the brick mantel that jutted out into the living room, stood a coat rack. At first glimpse it looked empty, but when I looked again, I saw something hanging from a hook, tucked away beside the bricks.

I walked over to it.

It was a cardigan, big and cable-knit. It was the brightest shade of orange I had ever seen.

Except, I had seen it before. I knew the cardigan. It happened to be the favorite cardigan of my favorite professor.

“Sondra,” I whispered, mostly to myself. “Sondra, Sandy.” I turned to Eli. “Holy crap, Eli, it’s Sondra Lewis!”

The men jumped to their feet.

“What did you say?” said Strong, walking to me. His face was white, his eyes were wide. He looked as though he’d seen a ghost.

“What do you mean?” echoed Eli, following.

I held out the sweater in front of me. “It all makes sense now!” I said. I was excited. “No professors ever go visit their students just for something stupid like the flu! She was checking up on me! Sondra Lewis, English Department! It’s how she knew my email, it’s how she knew where to find Lucy! Sondra is Sandy, and she’s my professor, and she’s the freaking bad guy!”

Strong’s face grew very red in the sunlight that poured in deceptively cheerful buckets through the open blinds. Eli smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Why didn’t we see it sooner? Jesus, Jo, teachers
don’t
make dorm calls. She was spying!”

“And nobody wears a sweater this bright and garish except for Sondra Lewis! She even talked about it the first time she wore it. Her sister, her
sister
, knitted it for her, but she said they’d had a falling out and hadn’t spoken in years. She sounded sad about it. This is her awful sweater!”

“Come on, guys.” Where Eli and I were excited, anxious and turning for the door, Strong was calm, cool behind that reddened face. “Look, I’m a cop, and my life is about evidence. An ugly sweater doesn’t make an innocent person a villain. What if you’re wrong? You’re standing here accusing someone just because you found an ugly sweater. The world is full of ugly sweaters. That doesn’t mean this one implicates your teacher!”

“Look,” I said. “I know you’re scared. I know you have rules to follow, and I know you want to find Lucy as bad as Eli and I do. But still, I
know
this. I
know
I’m right. Look at this sweater! No tag. Handmade. Sondra Lewis
is
our bad guy. Or at least, she’s one of them.”

I didn’t need further evidence. I’d been in the lab when the weird, disjointed voices spoke to us through the sound system. Now that I knew, I realized, one of those voices was her speaking. I could close my eyes and go back in time to the terror of those minutes, and the voice, though distorted, was hers. Her syntax. Her diction. Hers.

I knew.

And I had led her straight to Lucy.

Strong shrugged, unconvinced, but Eli stood strong by my side. “We have to find her,” he said. “Even if Jo’s wrong, and I don’t think she is, it won’t hurt anyone to talk to her, right? So can’t we go to her office? Like, now?”

“Yeah, let’s go!” I said. “Find her, and I bet we can find Lucy. Eli, what time is it?”

“One thirty. Tuesday.”

“Great!” I stepped up to Strong and looked up into his eyes. “She has office hours Tuesday from noon to four. I used to meet with her every week almost, just to chat and talk books and such. She’ll be there now. She’s always there. I can take you to her.”

Strong’s face cleared, the internal doubt storm past. He took a step back, looking apologetically at my lack of nose and crumbly face, and said, “I can even do you one better, if you’re sure. Are you sure?” I nodded. He took out his phone and dialed. “Williams, it’s Strong. Go ahead and put out an APB. We have a suspect in the missing girls case. Are you ready?” He turned and walked toward the front door, gesturing us to follow. “Okay. Sondra, s-o-n-d-r-a, Lewis, l-e-w-i-s. She’s an English professor at Smytheville. Look her up on the web site. Yep, we’re headed to her office now. Yes, I doubt we’ll need it but you better send some backup, just in case. Right. Yes. Okay, yeah. Out.” He turned back to us as we headed out into the snow. “You kids better be right, and this better lead us to Lucy. I’m done with red herrings.”

W
e reached Shepherd Hall in less than five minutes. I was positive Sondra Lewis, aka Sandy, would be waiting for us, heavily armed. I glanced around nervously, eyeing each student and professor who passed, before allowing myself to be pulled inside the building.

“But where’s your backup?” I asked Strong as he led the way through the automatic glass doors that parted, inviting us into the bustling classroom building.

“They’re on their way,” he responded, then tugged on my arm. I stumbled. Of course I stumbled. “Come on, let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

Wrapped in winter clothes from head to toe and flanked by Strong and Eli, my legs barely held me up. I wanted to crawl under the floor and hide. Around me, the building vibrated with energy and life as students walked the halls in between classes, chatting and debating in corners, the air humming with constant voices. Through the scarf, which I wore like a veil, I saw friends and classmates, and I struggled against the instinct to call out to them. Everyone gave us wide berth, from either the presence of a uniformed police officer, or the stench I emitted. I wasn’t sure I cared either way.

“This way,” I mumbled, forcing myself to take the lead. It was the best way to make sure I wouldn’t run. Not like I
could
run. My gait was zombie-like, lurching, and Eli kept a fistful of my coat in his hand at all times, rescuing me when I stumbled. Beside us Strong was stoic, silent.

I headed to the elevator, since Sondra Lewis’s office was on the fifth floor and my legs couldn’t handle the stairs. Like the Red Sea did for Moses, the sea of students parted for us as we pushed forward toward the shining metal door.

When the elevator arrived, we three climbed in. I pressed 5. Before the doors shut, a handful of giggling girls walked toward us. The first one stepped in, but made a terrible, ugly face. She turned away, pushing her friends back, as if they’d hit a force field. They left, but not before eyeing me with green-tinged, nauseated faces.

The doors closed.

“Do I really smell that bad?” I asked.

“Yeah, you do,” said Eli. “Positively ripe. Right now I’m just praying the elevator doesn’t get stuck. That would suck.”

The stars aligned in our direction for once; we didn’t get stuck. I heaved an unnecessary sigh of relief. Strong and Eli stared at me, and I’d have blushed, if I’d had blood with which to do it.

“What?” I said, opening my arms wise. “A girl’s gotta breathe sometimes.”

Then we rushed to Sondra’s office, the one with the vase of fresh flowers hanging on the wall outside. Normally they were fresh and sweet-smelling; now they were dried and withered. Like me.

Also, the door was closed.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “It’s never closed during office hours. Even when someone’s in there. She’s an open-door kind of professor.” I tried to knock, but my dried, gloved hands only succeeded in a muffled thud. “Professor Lewis? Are you in there? It’s Jo Hall.” But my voice was so quiet, so raw, I doubted she could hear me through the thick wooden door.

“Allow me,” said Strong. He nudged me aside and took hold of the doorknob. “Police, open up!”

This door, like the door at her old house, opened easily, but her office looked much more chaotic than the house. Student papers lay half-graded on her desk. Books sat piled in corners, topsy-turvy. A purse lay open on the ground.

Eli looked around and shrugged. “Looks like somebody left in a hurry.”

Strong stepped out to make yet another phone call, but Eli and I looked around.

I rifled through a few papers on her desk, where I found a memo matching the ones I’d seen back in the house. Same font, same paper. I thought of the folder of papers I’d left unread at the dorm and wondered what clues they held, if only I’d taken the time to read them.
This time
, I thought.
This time, I’ll read it right now.

From the Office of the OoA Advisory:

Re: The Search for Subject 632G-J

The search for Subject 632G-J has been successful in location. Subject is no longer at large, and is in custody, awaiting the arrival of our new founders. Agent AS keeping close tabs on Subject, simply awaiting the signal now to bring her into the facility.

Subject 645-L has been apprehended and awaits new equipment readiness to begin transfer. Subject is held at facility under lock, key, and constant guard.

Subject 651-S still thrives.

New founders are expected at 16:00 hours. Arranged pickup by Agent SL.

Cleanup efforts to begin at old facility as soon as police reports are properly filed.

Until then, continue to report to facility every three hours for check-ins. We need constant manpower on the streets to avoid any other untimely scenes.

All hands must be on deck at all times right now.

“O
h, you have got to be kidding me. What the hell
is
this? Some kind of bad sci-fi flick? Who
are
these assholes, anyway? And why the hell are they handing out paper memos? This is the twenty-first century!”

“What did you find?” Strong stood in the doorway, his face once again red and inflamed. For someone who’d just met her, he was definitely taking Lucy’s disappearance hard. It seemed every piece of news, each new discovery, was a salt in a raw, open wound. “Hand it over.”

I bristled, but did, and then watched his face get redder and his eyes grow wider as he stared at it, and Eli read over his shoulder. Both were silent, and then Eli looked at me, a smile
almost
appearing on the corners of his lips.

“I know, right?” I said. “Ridiculous. Don’t you just want to punch someone?”

Eli laughed. “Right now, I can’t remember the last time I
didn’t
want to punch someone. Actually, yes, I can. Last Wednesday, around midnight. That was probably the last time.”

I grinned at him, my face cracking and flaking. “I have that effect on people sometimes. You know, making them want to punch someone.”

He reached out and rubbed my shoulder. “Well, at least now we know we’re on the right track. Let’s get out of here. I can’t handle your stench in this little room.” He still smiled, though, and I knew why. It was a bit of a thrill, getting closer to finding our friend.

Everything’s going to be okay.

O
utside the office, Strong remained red, but his voice sounded calm. “I’ll call this in on the way out.” He reached out and took my arm and jerked me out of the office.

“Where are we going?” I said.

“To find Lucy. My buddies have a lead.”

T
he initial excitement I felt at finding a lead withered as Strong drove the car further and further away from school, from Primrose Path, and from everywhere we already knew was connected with finding Lucy. The day was passing by too fast. Lucy had already been gone for at least eight hours, and all the TV shows I’d ever seen said you only had forty-eight hours to find a kidnapping victim. After that, their survival rates plummeted.