Chapter 12: Look in the Hat

Carys drove fast and did not once touch the brake on the curves.

We took the county road at ninety, with gravel pinging off the underside and the old rifle sliding on the seat between us.

"It's two-forty," she said. "School lets out at three."

"Then we have twenty minutes."

"Dell said three."

"Dell said a lot of things," I said.

I held the burner phone in my fist.

It was dead quiet.

I had copied every text off it onto my own phone, and I had sent the whole thread to Carys's number and to the county prosecutor's office.

Whatever happened next, it would not die in a drawer.

The school sat at the edge of town, a low brick building with a flagpole and a row of yellow buses.

I told Carys to park at the far end of the lot.

"Five hundred feet," I said.

"You're not going to wait outside."

"No."

I got out.

I walked past the buses and through the front doors, and the court order went with me.

I did not care about the paper anymore.

The office was a small room with a counter.

A secretary in a cardigan looked up.

She saw my face and stood.

"Mr. Rawlins," she said. "You can't be here."

"Where is my daughter?"

"I'm going to have to call someone."

"Where is my daughter?" I said again, evenly.

She swallowed.

"Her mother signed her out at noon," she said. "She said it was a family emergency."

A coldness went through me.

"Which mother?" I asked. "Was there anyone with her?"

"Mrs. Rawlins was alone."

"Did she say where she was taking her?"

"To rehearsal, I think. For the rodeo."

"A rehearsal at noon, on a school day."

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