The man mumbles something under his breath, then sighs. “Let me get you her number.”
We wait impatiently. I think none of us want to linger any longer than we have to at Zane’s little piece of hell on earth. No matter the details, the big picture is already clear, clear and yet dark like midnight.
***
I call Ms. Evans as we sit in the car. I’ve taken the passenger seat, leaving Asher and Tyler with Zane in the back. Their low voices as they talk to Zane, trying to get a reaction apart from “fuck off” from him, turn into background noise when the call connects.
“Hello? Who is this?”
“Ms. Evans? I got your number from your tenant here in Wausau.” And dammit, I don’t even know his name.
“Is it about the house? I’m afraid Mr. Thompson has a lease, and he’s a good tenant. I can’t end it.”
“I’m more interested in a previous tenant. Kenneth Shaw.” I hear her huff and forge on. “Please don’t hang up. I need to find him. It’s important. He, uh, he owes me money, and I—”
She laughs, a dry, sarcastic bark. “Good luck with that. That man, he’s a real piece of work.”
I glance at Rafe who’s watching me intently, fingers drumming on the steering wheel. “Oh? What did he do?”
“At first he seemed like a good tenant. Paid his rent on time, mowed the lawn, fixed the fences. He fostered children, too. He looked like a real nice guy, you know? But then he let everything fall in disrepair, was late in paying the rent, and kept bringing this other man over. Totally unacceptable, and the neighbors complained of noise, and…”
“And what?” I press when she doesn’t continue.
“And screams,” she says quietly. “I don’t know why I am telling you all this. What’s your name?”
“Dylan,” I say. “Dylan Hayes.”
“Mr. Hayes. I don’t want any trouble. I asked him to leave, and ended the lease the moment it became possible. I haven’t seen him since.”
“The man fostered kids. The neighbors heard screams. But you didn’t think to report that?”
“I said I didn’t want trouble,” she replies stiffly, and damn, way to go, Dylan, putting her on the defensive already. “Good day, Mr. Hayes.”
“Wait! Please.” I grip the dashboard. “Where can I find this guy? Please, Ms. Evans.”
“I don’t know where he is. Not like I keep in contact with old tenants.”
“Anything to help me find him? Did he say where he was going? Do you know…?” A flash of inspiration. “Do you know what car he has?”
“He had a white sedan, with a scratch on the side. And he said he’d moved to Madison. That’s all I can tell you.”
“Thank you, that’s—”
She’s hung up already.
But that’s okay. I’m in a fucking daze as I lower the phone from my ear and turn to the others. “Our guy is in Madison. He drives a white sedan with a scratch in the side. We gotta find him ASAP.”
Before he hurts any more kids. I don’t say it, but the horrified looks I receive from the guys tell me they’re thinking the same.
Shit just got real.
***
“He raped kids,” I whisper-shout at Rafe as we sit in Zane’s and Dakota’s living room. “He raped Zane, and beat him, cut him up, and burned him with cigarette—”
“I know, okay? I fucking know what he remembers, what his back looks like. But we still don’t have any goddamn proof of anything connecting this Kenneth to any of it.”
“The neighbors heard screams.”