Island of Lost Girls - Jennifer McMahon [66]
Jesus Christ! she said, dropping her end and pulling her hand up to inspect the cut. Peter, still in Lizzys room, set his end down as well.
Shit, he mumbled. If it came in through the door, its gotta come out. He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
Rhonda, who had brought the hurt hand to her mouth, was determined to stay on track.
Peter, she began, the taste of blood fresh on her tongue, I know you were at the Inn and Out Motel the day Ernie was kidnapped. And I think you were there with Lizzy.
He looked disconcerted. I was hiking in the state forest.
No, she told him. You were there. The license plate of your truck is listed on the registration for the room. You were there with Lizzyor some other young, dark-haired woman from out of state who happened to register asC. Hook , for Gods sakeand a little girl. A little girl who I think may have been Ernestine Florucci.
You cant be serious.
Just tell me the truth, Peter. Its time.
ButI am telling the truth, he insisted. I had nothing to do with what happened to Ernie. The first I even heard of it was when you called me that day.
But you were at the motel, Rhonda said.
Shit, Ronnie. Lets not do this. Just let it go, okay?
Rhonda turned and walked down the hall toward the bathroom.
Where are you going? he asked.
To wash out my cut.
And what am I supposed to do? he asked, peering at her over the jammed dresser. Im kind of stuck here.
I dont know, Peterfigure out how were going to get the dresser out. And while youre at it, you can think about telling me the truth when I get back. This isme , Peter. The one you used to tell everything to, remember?
The cut itself wasnt too bad, but the metal strike plate had been covered in some kind of black grease that Rhonda assumed probably didnt belong in an open wound. She turned on the hot water and found a cracked sliver of soap. The water stung, and she watched it turn pink in the bowl of the sink as it mixed with her blood. Then she looked down and gasped.
There, resting on the floor, tucked against the cabinet the sink was mounted on, was a pair of tiny red sneakers. Rhonda turned off the water, dried her hands, leaned down, and picked up one of the sneakers. It was dirty, the boxy white rubber toe scuffed to gray, the untied shoelaces broken and tied back together haphazardly. Ernies sneaker. Rhondas hands began to tremble.
You okay in there? Peter called from the bedroom. Youre not bleeding to death or anything, are you?
Im fine, Rhonda said. The soap stings, thats all.
Think, Rhonda, think.
If her shoes were here, then that meant Ernie was. Or had been at some point.
Oh my God, she mumbled as the reality of the situation finally hit her.
She patted Peters keys in her pocketthe keys shed found in the cemetery, which was only a ten-minute walk from here. And Aggies house was abandoned. He could easily keep a little girl in a place like this. The closest neighbors were Clem and Justine, and a quarter mile of thick woods separated them.
Are you gonna help me move this thing, or what? Peter called.
Coming, Rhonda shouted.
What next? She had to get help. Her cell phone was in the car. Shed get to it quickly, make the call, then come back in and stall for time. Ernie could be here, right here, somewhere in the house.
She went down the hall and opened the door to Peters old room. Checked the closet. Under the bed. Only dust bunnies. Had she seriously expected to find Ernie that easily?
What are you doing? Peter called.
Looking for a Band-Aid! I think theres one in my car. She moved to Daniel and Aggies old room, throwing open the closet door. Nothing. Cardboard boxes and abandoned clothing.
Rhonda, whats going on? Peter called from behind the dresser in the doorway down the hall.