“No, I haven’t been looking out,” Denise said, her warm tone shifting slightly. “But Marlene, I did see Rick’s construction truck parked over at the county credit union around three. I thought he was supposed to be working the north site today.”
My hand tightened on the receiver, my left ring finger rubbing against the plastic casing. “The credit union is five miles past his job.”
“Maybe he had to draw some cash for materials,” Denise said, though her voice lacked its usual certainty. “Is Hannah still at her lesson?”
“She was supposed to be home forty minutes ago,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper.
I hung up the phone without saying goodbye. The drive to Mrs. Gable’s house took less than four minutes, but the old woman’s porch was dark, and her front door remained closed when I knocked. When Mrs. Gable finally answered, wearing her housecoat, she looked at me with confusion and told me Hannah had left her living room at precisely five o’clock.
