Chapter 58
Chapter
Fifty-Eight
Junction Market was a cinder-block building with a metal awning over two pumps and a hand-painted sign for bait. On top of selling gas, they also sold fried chicken and pizza.
Wren parked at the edge of the lot and made it as far as the ice machine before a deputy stepped in front of her. “I’m afraid you can’t go inside, ma’am.”
“This is about my son.” Her voice came out sharper than she meant.
The deputy’s expression softened, but he didn’t move. “I know. But I need you to stay here.”
Wren stared through the front windows. Every part of her wanted to shove past him and go inside. Instead, she folded her arms tight against herself and looked through the window.
Prine stood at the counter with Luke and Nash beside her. A young clerk in a red polo hovered behind the register.
A monitor had been turned toward them. Wren couldn’t see what was on the screen. She could only see Prine’s face.
Cold rushed through Wren when she saw the FBI agent’s expression tighten.
“What just happened?” She stepped forward. “What did she see?”
The deputy moved in front of her, blocking her way. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go inside.”
“I need to know what she saw!”
Before they could argue any more, the store door opened, and Nash stepped out.
Wren searched his face as he crossed toward her. “What is it?”
“I thought I saw you out the window.” Nash stopped in front of her. “What are you doing here?”
“I have to know what’s going on!”
“You shouldn’t have come, Wren.”
“Please, Nash.” Her voice cracked. “I have to find my boy. Is there something on that footage?”
He sighed before taking her elbow and leading her away from the building. “They got a better look at the man.”
Her heart kicked harder. “His face?”
He shook his head. “No. But he was wearing the same cap as the man at the school. He kept his head down.”
Disappointment surged through her. “Then this doesn’t really tell us anything, does it?”
Nash glanced back toward the store. “Prine’s sending the footage to Knoxville to see if they can clarify any of the images.”
Wren swallowed. “What about this guy’s car?”
“They’re checking the exterior cameras now.”
The door opened again, and Luke stepped out carrying a sheet of paper. His eyes narrowed when he saw Wren.
“We told you to stay at the school,” he muttered.
“I know. But I couldn’t. And you’d do the same in my shoes.”
Luke didn’t argue. But the scowl remained on his face.
“Is that a copy of the receipt?” Wren asked, urgency pulsing through her blood. “What did he buy?”
He exhaled and looked down at the paper. “Bread. Milk. Peanut butter. And two bags of pickle-flavored sunflower seeds.”
For a second, Wren couldn’t breathe.
Mason wouldn’t eat any other kind. She’d tried. Ranch. Barbecue. Regular.
It was pickle or nothing. And they were his absolute favorite.
Her knees weakened, and Nash’s hand closed around her elbow.
“This man knows Mason. He bought those pickle-flavored sunflower seeds before he ever took my son.” Wren pressed a hand to her mouth.
“How many people know that Mason likes these sunflower seeds?” Luke asked.
“I don’t know. Plenty. He talks about them all the time. He takes them to soccer. Deja knows. His teachers probably know. Cody knows.” Her voice caught. “Anybody who spends time around him would know.”
Luke nodded slowly.
Wren turned toward him. “This wasn’t somebody grabbing Mason and figuring out what to do afterward. This was someone who already knew what Mason would eat. This has been planned, hasn’t it?”
Nash’s expression hardened. “That’s how it seems.”
Somehow, that affirmation didn’t make her feel any better.
Wren stood beside her car long after Luke went back inside Junction Market.
Across the lot, a deputy paced to his cruiser. Prine was on her phone near the gas pumps. Another officer carried a laptop from the store to one of the SUVs.
Everyone was doing something.
Everyone except her.
Wren folded her arms and stared through the store windows.
The clerk had gone back behind the counter. Luke stood beside him, looking at something on the monitor again.
Nash stayed a few feet away from her. “You can sit in the truck if you want. It’s warmer.”
“I don’t want to sit.”
“I figured you’d say that.”
Wren rubbed her hands over her arms, hating the helpless feeling bubbling inside her.
Prine crossed the lot toward them, phone still in her hand. “They’re pulling exterior footage from the store next door. There’s a chance they caught the vehicle coming in.”
Wren looked up fast. “A chance?”
“That’s all I can give you right now.”
“Do we know what direction he went?” Wren asked.
“Not yet.” Prine glanced toward the store. “Luke’s checking timestamps against the traffic cameras.”
Wren nodded.
Another maybe and not yet. Maybes and not-yets weren’t helping her right now.
As Prine walked away, Nash turned toward Wren. “You okay?”
“No.” She shoved one hand into her coat pocket. “But I’m starting to think we’re looking at this backward.”
His expression changed slightly. “How?”
Wren pulled her keys from her pocket. “Somebody took Christian ten years ago. Roy turns up dead right after Christian comes back. Now Mason is gone. I don’t believe those things are separate.”
He held her gaze. “Neither do I.”
“We need to look at the whole picture.” She nodded toward her car. “I’m going back to Paige’s. I want to ask her a few more questions.”
Nash frowned. “Roy’s niece? But Roy has been cleared.”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t know anything. Paige knew him better than anybody.” Wren started toward the driver’s side. “Maybe there’s something she remembers. Somewhere he went. Somebody he talked about. Something he was scared of.”
“Wren—”
“I need a lead right now. I need something. And talking to Paige again is my safest option. I can’t stand around here waiting for another camera to turn up nothing.”
Nash reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys. “Okay, but I’m driving.”
She’d expected an argument. “You don’t have to go with me.”
Nash glanced back at her. “I know. But I’m going to anyway.”