The River With a Crimson Current-The Mentalist

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Grace Van Pelt

"Check on Milly," Jane orders as he nears my desk. I frown and look up at him, not registering what he'd just said. "Now."

"Why? Is she okay?"

"No Grace. No, she's not. Just go."

I jump up and grab my jacket from the back of my chair.

"What's happened?" I ask urgently.

"Walk and talk," he says signalling the way. We quickly weave our way down the corridors heading to the elevator. "She just called-"

"What did she say?"

"She didn't."

"There's no time for riddles," I tell him, expressing my plea.

"She hung up before she said anything. But something's wrong... I can tell."

"We knew that before."

"No. Something is happening, probably as we speak. Just... Check on her."

I press the button for the elevator as he comes to a halt.

"Wait until Sam leaves, then go in," Jane says.

"What?! That could be days for all we know! Who knows what could happen!?" Is he insane?

"Trust me on this..."

"This is a little girl we're talking about Jane," my tone soft for a moment. Does he understand the sincerity of the situation?

"That is why I want you to trust me. Just do as I say." The doors ping open and I rush into them then turn round to face him. Isn't he coming?

"Van Pelt?!" Boss calls from somewhere along the corridor. Jane clearly tells from my expression-a rabbit caught in the headlights- that I didn't know which way to turn.

"Don't worry! I've got you covered," he quickly mutters then runs in the direction Boss had called, probably preparing a wacky excuse.

I slam the brakes on as I round the corner to her street. I put the car in park and lean back in my seat. What if Sam's already out? How do I tell? I fidget, desperately wanting to go in there and simply confront him, but for Milly's sake I don't. I take my chances and decide to wait for any sign of life. After ten minutes I notice my fingers tapping the steering wheel and left leg jigging on the spot, why am I so impatient? Exactly seven minutes and fourteen seconds later a man's figure exits the house. I sit up and watch him as he locks the door and drives off down the road.

When I get to the front door I pat my pockets trying to find a suitable object that could pick the lock, but with no luck I search the front of the house for a spare key. When I find nothing I stand at the door and stare at it as if it's magically going to open, then it occurs to me that I have a perfectly sized hairpin holding back some loose strands. I take it out and shove it in the lock, listening desperately for a click. Finally the door swings open and I quietly enter, checking behind me first. I glance at the empty living room on my way past and continue towards the stairs. When I reach the familiar door I notice the empty space where the wooden name plaque had been. I carefully take the brass handle and peep into the room being careful not to frighten her. What I see is something I wish upon nobody. Something I wish I'd never seen. But now I have, there's no way in hell I'm turning back...