Coincidentally But Eternally Connected

Speak To Me

I drove toward the address in Colville while Hope sent a quick text to the group letting them know she had to leave town for a "family emergency." She said Richy played along, but Jessy messaged her privately, asking what was really going on. Hope responded that she had a sick aunt in Des Moines, and explained that she and Jessy had made up the "sick aunt" code as a sort of distress signal to say there was danger and Hope had to leave. Jessy replied to be safe and left it at that.

Lilly, however, was more persistent. She called Hope's phone. "Why did you really leave? Are you and Jake safe?" she asked worriedly. Hope looked at me and sighed.

"Lilly, I can't really talk. I'm on a bus to Des Moines," she replied.

"Is Jake with you?"

"I'm sorry, Lilly, I can't talk. I'm doing my best to make everything better...for family," she emphasized with a pause. "Can you trust me and try to be patient?"

Lilly hiccupped, and my heart squeezed. "Please tell Jake that I...I want to see my big brother again," she said through sniffles.

"I'll try to pass the message along if I hear from him," Hope reassured her. "Take care of yourself, Lilly. We'll talk soon." Hope powered down her phone after that to limit our exposure. "Poor Lilly."

My jaw clenched. Between my two sisters, both had done things to endanger Hope and me. At this moment, I found more compassion for Lilly's actions than for Hannah's. But I was trying to keep an open mind.

We arrived at a run-down street in Colville. I drove slowly by the address on Dave Smith's driver's license. The house looked abandoned. But frankly, so did most of the others in this neighborhood. Many were boarded up. However, there was a car in the driveway, and it matched what we saw in the footage. I passed the house and circled the block; the street behind was equally destitute. 

"The house directly behind Smith's is boarded up," I commented to Hope.

She nodded. "Let's do this." As I searched for a spot to park, Hope unbuckled her seatbelt. She lifted a panel on the closet floor and revealed a safe. She unlocked it while relaying the code to me and then pulled out two handguns. "Glock 43 or M&P 380?" she asked me.

She had my preferred weapon with her? "God, I love you," I murmured. "I'll take the Glock, please." She smiled and handed me two full magazines along with the gun. We both ran safety checks and then slipped our weapons into concealed carry holsters under our sweatshirts. Hope also pulled out a small listening device, which fit into an innocuous-looking bag that I slung over my shoulder.

Then we pulled up our hoods, put on sunglasses, and left the van, walking hand-in-hand toward the house and talking about inane topics. We turned toward the boarded-up building as if we owned it and entered through the side gate. Once the gate closed behind us, we both slunk down low and stealthily moved through weeds and debris along the fence line. "Well, isn't this convenient?" Hope remarked quietly. There were boards missing in the fence between the two yards. We peeked through, found the yard empty, and all back windows boarded up.

I pulled out the listening device and attached the parabolic reflector to the transducer, then plugged in the headset. I offered it to Hope and she nodded and took it, aiming it through the hole in the fence and hitting the record button. The fewer solid objects between the mic and the sounds, the better.

I turned my back on her to watch our surroundings. I felt comfort from her leaning against me as I surveyed the yard and nearby houses. After a few moments, Hope tensed and I felt her reach up, presumably to slip the headphones off one of her ears. "There are three people in the house now. Hannah and two men. She called one of them David."