Page 45 of Come Find Me
The shoulder of the road is pretty narrow, dropping off to a grassy ditch, but from this angle it looks worse than it is. “Barely anyone ever drives this way at night.”
“That doesn’t make it any better,” he says, tightening his hold on the wheel.
This time, he slows down early enough to turn into my driveway on the first pass. “Turn off the headlights,” I tell him when he pulls off the road.
“What? No way. I’d really rather not end up wrapped around some tree.”
“Just go slow. I don’t want someone to call Joe and tell him someone’s here.”
“It’s almost one in the morning, and this is your property, right?” He looks my way and lets out a sigh. “When we’re closer to the house and I’m sure I can see, I will, okay?”
I hold my breath until we reach the roundabout in front of the house and he flicks the lights off. The house is a shadow in the night, with the moon hidden behind clouds. We exit the car as quietly as we can, which isn’t really quiet at all with the rocks and dirt kicking up in our wake.
I’ve got my flashlight with me, like usual, and keep it aimed low to the ground so no one will notice unless they’re already here. My bike is still hidden underneath the porch, and I mumble a thanks to whatever higher power was looking out for it while the prospective buyers were here.
Nolan is not nearly as good at stealth mode as he thinks, closing his car door too firmly, stepping too loudly, kicking at a pebble with every other step. “Shh,” I remind him.
“What?” he says.
I gesture to his feet, to the ground. The problem is sort of…all of him. He makes an impression. He leaves a mark. I give up and continue on, hoping for the best.
At the shed around back, the door squeaks when I push it open.
“I thought we were coming for your bike,” he whispers.
“While we’re here, I might as well check the new data,” I say, stepping inside.
Nolan flips the switch on the side of the wall, on impulse, but I flip it off again. “Trust me,” I whisper, thinking of Marco and Lydia and Sutton, who’ve been spending a lot of time out there.
Instead I turn on the computer screen, which illuminates us in the dark. Nolan’s face glows an eerie yellow, and his eyes keep darting around the room. “What is this place?” he whispers.
“A computer shed. That used to be a storage shed. That used to be a stable.”
“I see,” he says, like that makes perfect sense.
I download all the data we can get, storing it on my flash drive, then gesture to the box of Elliot’s things, left behind from when Lydia was in here. “Can we bring that with us, too?” I ask. I want to take advantage of the fact that we have a car. I want to spend some time looking through everything.
“Sure.” Nolan scoops it up, then pauses at the door, and I realize he’s waiting for me. Or he’s waiting for the flashlight.
“Just a sec.” I finish up, shut everything down, and follow him back outside, illuminating his path with my flashlight. I shine the light under the porch and wheel the bike out, walking it back to his car.
He pops the trunk, and I see a baseball bat wedged in the corner, along with his gear. He pushes it to the side, making room for Elliot’s things, then takes out a couple of bungee cords to secure my bike.
“Ready?” he asks as he closes the trunk.
But I stare up at the house, then back at Nolan’s car. “There are a few more things I want to grab. In the house.”
He pauses before nodding once.
“You don’t have to come in,” I add.
“I’ve already been in there,” he says, and I narrow my eyes at him over my shoulder. I knew he had beenatmy house, notinmy house.
“I know, I’m sorry.” He puts his hands up, surrendering.
“Okay, well. I left handprints all over the back window of your car to freak you out,” I say, since we’re in the confessing spirit.
“I sort of figured,” he says, and even in the dark, I can tell he’s grinning.
