It's been five years since the sudden disappearance of Cora Cadigan's mother. Five years since the case was closed before it even began.
In the final summer before the end of high school, Cora knows it's her last opportunity to find the answers she...
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"Shit, where is my other shoe?"
It's just after ten in the night when Rhys Laderman's Range Rover stops at the end of my driveway.
After exchanging numbers at the diner the other night, he'd texted me before to set the plan in motion.
This was how it was going to go down; Rhys had informed me that his brother finished work at the station at nine-thirty. After that, Officer Peterson, a man in his late sixties would be on patrol at the station.
Officer Peterson, although a lovely guy was also someone who fell asleep everywhere. He was known to have narcolepsy, the illness where you can sleep at any given moment.
He was often found sleeping on the job but because of our small population, we couldn't be picky when it came to choosing our officers. Besides, Peterson wasn't a particularly bad cop. When he was awake, that is.
All that Rhys and I had to do was wait in the car until he fell asleep. It wouldn't take too long, he had told me.
The honk of Rhys' horn makes me jump, frowning. "Asshole," I mutter.
I knew working with Rhys would test my patience. I'd never been able to stand the sight of the guy.
I tie up my old converse, grab my phone and rush towards the door, locking it behind me.
One advantage of having a drunk for a father was the fact you never had to inform him that you were going out anywhere. He wasn't even awake to realise you were missing.
I jog down the driveway, squinting when my eyes are hit by Rhys blaring head lights.
"Hey! Idiot!" I greet him, "do you realise your high beams are on?"
"Nice to see you too," he mumbles, rolling his eyes. He turns his headlights down, draping one arm over the steering wheel.
I quickly scan his outfit. Besides the red baseball cap covering his ear-length brown hair, he's dressed in all black.
"The fucks with the ninja outfit?" I cock my eyebrow, staring unimpressively at him.
"Well at least I'm not wearing a yellow tank," he muses. "We're trying to blend in, not stand out."
