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universe dropping us a reminder of Amy’s abduction, just to get us thinking along those lines?”
    I shrugged and averted my eyes. “If you believe in that sort of thing.”
    “You mean the sort of thing you put in your books and then tell me is bullshit, Rachel?”
    I shrugged. “You’re the one who keeps trying to convince me it might not be.”
    “So you’ve decided to believe me, then?”
    Tipping my head to one side, I said, “I was just trying it out. You’re right. It’s bullshit.” Then I took a big breath. “But if that is Stephanie Mattheson’s phone, then it’s probably safe to say she didn’t run away just to ditch her coach and worry her parents.”
    “You’re right about that.”
    “There’s a drugstore around the corner, and I’ll bet we can find a ten-pack of those styluses.” I frowned. “Styli?”
    He was looking at the road near the grate, though, all but ignoring me. So I looked, too. There was a parking meter there. Probably had been a few dozen vehicles in and out since the night before last, when this had gone down.
    Or maybe not.
    He pulled out his own phone and took a few close-up shots of the area, while I looked up and down the sidewalks and road, wondering how this chick could’ve been snatched against her will without someone seeing something. I mean, it wasn’t a busy place, but it wasn’t deserted, either.
    And then I thought of Amy again. Stupid, I know, but there was something bugging me, itching at my brain. I kept feeling just like I’d felt last Thanksgiving morning, when Amy’s mother had called to tell me she’d never made it home, and I had known— just known —that something awful had happened.
    We’d tracked Amy down before it had gone from awful to fatal. One of her abductors was still with her when Mason and I caught up. Now he was with the angels. (I know, but I don’t believe in hell, even for jerks like him.) We’d never tracked down the other one.
    Mason nudged me with an elbow. “You seeing what I’m seeing?”
    I wasn’t, so I looked where he was looking, down the block to the next corner. “There’s a camera on that traffic light at the intersection. Snaps automatically when someone runs the light.”
    “Fuckin’ cops. You’re like Big Brother, you know that?”
    “Not the point.”
    I nodded. “I know it’s not. What is the point is what difference does it make? What are the chances the kidnapper ran the light?”
    “If he was going that way? Pretty good, actually. People get all hopped up during the commission of a crime. Adrenaline’s surging, they’re nervous, jumpy, in full-blown fight-or-flight mode.”
    “Walking textbook,” I accused.
    “What? It’s as good as you wanting to check the phone for photos.”
    “I do not want to check the phone for photos. I want to see who she’s been talking to. Blind women do not snap a lot of pictures, Einstein.”
    “I knew that.” He picked up the pace as we hustled to the end of the block, and Myrtle jogged along happily for most of the way, then started snuffing at me as if to say, Enough with the running, already. Do I look like a sprinter to you? “I was teasing about that Einstein thing,” I said, slowing my pace to accommodate my bulldog.
    “I know you were.”
    “Could you get the traffic-light photos without making the case official? I know Judge Howie wants to keep it under the radar.”
    “Yeah, except it won’t do any good. Look at the camera.”
    “What?” I looked. It had what looked like a bullet hole in its lens. “Shit.”
    Mason turned in a slow frustrated circle. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
    “Like what?”
    “I don’t know. The judge. Something was off about him.”
    I frowned at him. That again, I thought. “So? Elaborate already. In what way was something off?”
    “I don’t know. I wasn’t ready. He’s an old friend of Chief Sub’s, and I was expecting another power lunch, not an off-the-books case. I didn’t have my game