The Lost Brother Read online

  “Doubtful, bro,” I told imaginary Frank. “This Carrini dude might be some big expert and all. But so far he hasn’t managed to get Justin to remember much. At least not anything important.”

  Imaginary Frank nodded wisely, looking smug. I usually hated when he looked like that. But this time I was eager to hear what he—er, I—would say next.

  “Then perhaps it’s time to try something new,” I blurted out in my imaginary-Frank voice. “Dr. Carrini is being cautious, and that’s fine for his purposes. But we need a breakthrough. What if we took Justin back to the spot in town where he first reappeared last week? That might jar his memory enough so he—”

  “Joe! Who are you talking to in here?”

  I spun around, feeling my face go beet red. A pretty girl with dark, curly hair was standing there staring at me.

  “Chloe!” I blurted out. “Uh, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  Yeah. That much was obvious.

  Chloe looked a little confused. She was a friendly candy striper we’d met on our first visit to the hospital. Really friendly. Especially toward Frank. For some reason, girls always go for him. It’s really annoying.

  “Listen,” I said. “I know it probably looks like I was standing here talking to myself, but—”

  “It’s okay, Joe.” Her face went all gooey and sympathetic. “I heard what happened at the park this morning. You must be super freaked out and worried. I came to let you know Dr. Carrini just finished. If you want to see Justin, come on in. But I should warn you, he’s pretty tired.”

  “I know how he feels.”

  That was the truth. I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since arriving in Idaho.

  She shot me that sympathetic smile again. “I hope you’ll let me know when you find Frank,” she said. “I have the day off from the hospital tomorrow, but please call me on my cell if he turns up, okay? If I don’t answer, just leave a message.”

  Before I could respond, my own cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I grabbed it, with a flash of crazy hope that it was Frank calling. That somehow this was all some big misunderstanding and he’d just gotten lost on his way to the latrine or something.

  But no. The caller ID screen read BAILEY COOPER.

  “Hurry,” Chloe said, already hurrying off down the hall. “Justin looked ready to fall asleep when Dr. C. left.”

  I tucked the phone back into my pocket. If Bailey had found anything important, she would have called Rich first. Whatever she wanted to talk to me about could wait.

  Jogging a few steps, I caught up with Chloe. Dr. Carrini was leaning on the counter at the nurses’ station, writing notes on a chart. I nodded politely and scooted into Justin’s room.

  Justin was lying in his bed looking pale and kind of sleepy. Nobody who didn’t know better would guess what had happened to him. He looked like an ordinary kid in his late teens. Maybe in the hospital to repair a high school football injury. Or to have his appendix out. Something normal like that.

  But I knew better. His case was anything but normal. And if you knew where to look, you could see it. The hint of wildness in his eyes.

  Yeah. Definitely not normal.

  “Hi, Joe,” he said with a yawn as Chloe straightened his blanket. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you, Justin,” I said. “Did anyone tell you the news?”

  He yawned again, deeper this time. “What news?” His voice was already sounding fainter.

  “About my brother Frank. He went missing this morning. Like, early this morning, probably when it was still dark out. . . .”

  “Aaaaaaaaaah!” Justin suddenly sat bolt upright, letting out an unearthly shriek. His eyes had gone wide and were staring right past me. “The darkness! The darkness!”

  “What?” I traded a glance with Chloe, who looked as startled and confused as I felt.

  Out in the hall, I already heard voices and running feet. A second later Dr. Carrini burst in, along with a nurse or two.

  “I remember! I remember!” Justin babbled, tears rolling down his cheeks and his hands clenched on the bedclothes. “The dark place. Oh, it was horrible!”

  “Back away, please,” Carrini said sternly to Chloe and me. He hurried forward, producing a syringe from his pocket. With a practiced move, he uncapped it and plunged it into Justin’s upper arm.

  A second later Justin slumped forward, his eyes drooping shut. He let out a sigh, relaxing his death grip on the sheet.

  Carrini turned to glare at me. “What did you say to him?” he demanded. “I won’t have outsiders upsetting my patient! Who gave you permission to come in here, anyway?”

  “Look,” I blurted out, too on edge myself to be polite. “I didn’t mean to upset anyone, but I’m pretty upset right now myself, okay? In case you didn’t hear, my brother disappeared from the park this morning, and I really need to figure out what happened to him!”

  Carrini looked surprised. “He did?” he said. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you find him soon.”

  Okay, that made me feel pretty stupid for losing it like that. “Thanks,” I murmured, slinking out of the room.

  Stopping in the hall outside, I wondered what to do next. I pulled out my phone, but Bailey hadn’t left a message. Guess it hadn’t been anything important after all.

  I yawned. My busy morning and lack of sleep was catching up with me. There was only one solution to that. I needed some serious caffeine. And something to eat. It was almost lunchtime by now.

  I headed to the hospital cafeteria. It was nearly as deserted as the waiting room had been. I grabbed a banana, then headed for the coffee station out near the tables.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Rich said from behind me just as I reached for the coffeepot. “Looks like you needed some coffee too.”

  “For sure.” I poured my own cup, then filled the one he held up. “Have a second to talk?”

  “Sure.”

  We sat down and started to discuss the case. Not that there was much to discuss. Rich had just checked in on Officer Donnelly, who was still unconscious and probably would be for a while yet. I mentioned Bailey’s call, but Rich hadn’t heard from her. He also hadn’t heard from the cops searching the park, which meant they probably hadn’t found anything yet.

  “No surprise there,” I said ruefully, taking a sip of my coffee. “Whoever did this seems to be pretty good at—”

  I cut myself off as a college-age kid rushed into the cafeteria. I’d never seen him before, and probably wouldn’t have paid any attention to him now.

  Except for one thing. He was brandishing a huge butcher knife!

  Racing up to one of the cafeteria workers, he waved the knife at her in a threatening way.

  “I heard Justin Greer is in the hospital!” the kid shouted. “I demand to talk to Justin Greer! Right now!”

  Seeing the Light

  I jumped as an overhead light clicked on. The glare was blinding at first, forcing me to squeeze my eyes shut as I staggered to my feet. But finally I was able to crack them open and take my first real look around.

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed since the window in the door had opened and closed. Like I said, it was hard to keep track. Especially since I was pretty sure I’d zoned out for a while.

  Blinking rapidly to help my eyes finish adjusting, I stared at my surroundings. I wasn’t sure how long this light would last.

  Bare cement walls, check. Small cot, check. Metal door with no handle or hinges showing, check.

  Glancing up, I saw the overhead light glaring down from a ceiling at least fifteen feet over my head. The bulb was encased in a metal cage. Beside it was a grate that looked like some kind of speaker.

  As my eyes slid down the wall again, they stopped on something. I blinked, still having trouble focusing after so long in total darkness. Leaning on the bed, I peered at the whitewashed wall near the pillow.

  Someone had scratched something into the wall’s hard surface. It looked like the notch marks someon
e might make to keep track of passing days—like the ones in prison cells all over the world.

  Someone had been marking time in here before me. If I was here much longer, I might have to try that myself.

  I was about to turn away when I saw more markings beneath the first ones. These were even fainter, partially obscured by the rumpled blanket and pillow. I had to actually kneel on the cot and push the bedding aside to get a good look.

  When I did, I let out a gasp. The first line was a single word: LOST. And below that, fainter still, a name: LUKE.

  My mind immediately flashed to the list of Misty Falls Lost victims. One of them was a boy named Luke!

  “Whoa,” I whispered, trying to wrap my head around what this meant. Could that same Luke have been held here in this room, just as I was being held now?

  Almost involuntarily, my eyes darted around the tiny room. As if I was expecting to see a little boy peering out at me from some shadowy corner.

  Then I got ahold of myself again. Okay, this whole case was pretty creepy. But I wasn’t going to give in to that. I had to stay focused.

  CLANG!

  I spun around, almost falling off the cot. The door had just swung partly open!

  “Hey!” I yelled, lunging forward.

  ZZZZZP.

  I had to stop short to avoid tripping over something that had just slid in through the partially open door. A tray. I couldn’t see who’d slid it in, since the door opened toward me, blocking any view of whatever was outside.

  CLANG!

  The door swung shut again. I leaped forward and grabbed at it, my knuckles scraping painfully on the metal. But it was no good. I collapsed against the door as I heard a bolt slide shut on the other side.

  “Please!” I called. “Who’s there? Why are you keeping me here?”

  No answer. I just leaned there for a second, feeling hopeless. Then I turned to look down at the tray.

  There was food on it. A sandwich on a paper plate. An apple. A plastic cup of water. A thin paper napkin.

  My stomach let out a sudden grumble. I realized I was ravenous. How long had it been since I’d eaten? I had no idea, but my digestive system was telling me it had been way too long.

  I picked up the tray and stared at the food. It smelled delicious. The sandwich was tuna salad—one of my favorites. My fingers twitched, ready to pick up the sandwich and cram it into my mouth.

  “No,” I whispered, setting the tray down again.

  I was famished. And still a little groggy. But I hadn’t completely lost my mind—or my ATAC training. And that training warned me to be suspicious. What if this meal was drugged?

  I could survive being hungry for a while longer. If I passed out again due to some weird tranquilizer, I might never get out of here.

  Sitting down on the edge of the cot, I stared at the door. The scent of tuna drifted through the air, making my stomach grumble constantly, but I did my best to ignore it.

  If someone opened that door again, I wanted to be ready.

  More time passed. How much? You got me.

  I was trying to stay alert. But it wasn’t easy. I caught myself dozing off a few times. Each time it was harder to pull myself out of it.

  CLANG!

  I jerked awake, realizing I’d done it again. Springing forward, I crashed into the door, scrabbling for the edge, planning to yank it open and face whoever was out there.

  Oops. The door was still shut tight.

  Then I realized where the clanging noise had come from this time. The little window. It was open again! A set of eyes was peering in.

  “Hello?” I called. “Who’s there?”

  The eyes pulled back. I pressed my face to the window and looked out.

  A little girl who looked about ten years old was standing in a featureless hallway outside. She stared at me with wide blue eyes. Her long, auburn hair was braided into pigtails.

  “Who are you?” she asked, her high-pitched voice muffled by the thick metal door. “Are you staying here now?”

  “I’m Frank,” I called back. “Who are you?”

  She didn’t answer for a second as she looked up and down the hall. Then her big blue eyes returned to me.

  “Do you know where my brother is?” she asked, sounding plaintive now. “They won’t tell me. Have you seen him?”

  “Where are we?” I asked. “What is this place?”

  “I really want to find my brother,” the little girl said with a sigh. “Are you sure you don’t know where he is? I thought you might know.”

  “Um, I’m not sure,” I said, just wanting to keep her talking. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Alice.”

  I gasped. That was another name from the victims’ list! Alice was the name of a little girl who’d disappeared five or six years ago while she was on a nature walk with her teenage brother. The brother had been unconscious when they’d found him, with no idea where his sister had gone.

  Unless I missed my guess, I was talking to another of the Misty Falls Lost!

  New Suspicions

  Rich was a pro. I’m no slouch either, thanks to my ATAC training. It took the two of us only seconds to grab the college-age kid and wrestle the knife out of his hand.

  “Hey!” he yelped as Rich whipped his hands around behind his back. “Let me go!”

  “Sorry, son,” Rich said in his best sheriff’s drawl. “Afraid I can’t do that. Not until you tell me exactly what you were hoping to accomplish by waving that blade around at innocent people.”

  The kid sort of slumped against his restraint, probably realizing it was pointless to struggle. He was average height and weight with reddish brown hair. He didn’t stand a chance against Rich, who probably outweighed him by almost a hundred pounds.

  “I need to talk to Justin Greer,” he said, sounding kind of sullen. “I just heard he was here, and I really, really need to talk to him.”

  “Mind telling me why?” said Rich.

  The kid stared at him. Then he glanced around at the cafeteria workers and other onlookers.

  “It’s private,” he said after a second. “But it’s, like, really important, okay?”

  “If it’s that important, you’d better spill it,” I said. “Maybe we can help. Are you a friend of Justin’s or something?”

  The kid turned to stare at me. “Who are you?”

  “Don’t bother, Joe,” Rich growled. “He’s probably just another true-crime junkie. We’ve had a few of ’em show up here over the years.”

  “Hang on,” I said as Rich started to wrestle the kid toward the door. The detective rolled his eyes impatiently but stopped. I smiled at the kid. “My name’s Joe,” I told him. “What’s yours?”

  For a second I didn’t think he was going to answer. Finally he spit out, “Stanley.”

  “Cool. So, Stanley, where are you from?” I asked.

  This time the pause was even longer. “Seattle,” he said at last.

  “What brings you out here to see Justin?” I asked, trying to sound friendly. “Did you know him before he disappeared?”

  Stanley seemed to have run out of answers. At least ones he was willing to share. No matter what Rich and I said after that, he refused to give us any more information.

  “You might as well lock me up or whatever,” he told Rich at last with a frown.

  Rich shrugged. “Your wish is my command. Few hours cooling off in the pokey might jog your memory.” He glanced at me. “You want a ride into town?”

  “No thanks, I’m okay,” I said.

  I watched him drag Stanley off. Weird. Was the kid really a true-crime fan, like the cop thought? Or could something else be going on here?

  “But what?” I whispered to myself. Stanley was several years older than Justin, so it seemed unlikely they’d been best buddies before the disappearance. So what was this kid after? Should he be on my suspect list?

  I pulled out my phone, tempted to shoot off an e-mail to ask HQ to look into it. But what would I say?
I hadn’t thought to snap a photo of the guy, and I didn’t even know his last name. . . .

  I sighed, deciding I needed a little more to go on before getting ATAC involved with this one. Even HQ couldn’t do much with what I had so far.

  While I had my phone out, I clicked through the missed-call list to get Bailey’s number, then tried to call her back. No answer—it went straight to voice mail. I left a quick message, then hung up.

  I walked back to my cooling coffee and chugged it, trying to decide what to do next. Should I head into town, follow up on this Stanley thing? It seemed too weird to dismiss completely. But I wasn’t sure how it could possibly relate to Frank’s disappearance. And I didn’t want to get caught up with some red herring while my brother’s trail went cold.

  Figuring Stanley could wait, I decided to try to track down Bailey. Just because she wasn’t answering her phone didn’t mean she wasn’t around. Cell coverage was pretty spotty out at the park. The only reason my phone worked there was because it was ATAC-issue and pretty tricked out. Maybe Bailey was out in the wilderness somewhere with no signal. Probably telling the animals how great they were and how much people stank.

  I bit my lip as I thought back on her comments earlier. She’d all but admitted she was trying to solve the case of the Misty Falls Lost herself. What if she’d found something? What if that was why she’d tried to call me?

  Then again, maybe she wasn’t trying to help at all. Frank and I had already wondered if Farley might have had an accomplice. What if that accomplice was Bailey?

  Sure, she’d come right out to help look for Frank. But now that I thought about it, she was the one who’d been doing most of the tracking. What if she’d purposely led us astray?

  “At least this time I have a last name,” I murmured as I texted a quick message to HQ.

  They got back to me before I finished my second cup of coffee. Apparently Bailey wasn’t too hard to research.

  Most of the info ATAC turned up I already knew or could have guessed. All except the stuff about Bailey being orphaned at age five. That was about the age of several of the abductees. Was there a connection?