The Night She Disappeared by April Henry Read Free Book Online Page A

find. Once we get off the main road, we don’t pass a single car. The roads are narrow, barely big enough for two cars to pass, with gravel shoulders. There’s no houses out here, no nothing. Just a sign, pockmarked with bullet holes, warning there’s a five-hundred-dollar fine for dumping trash. The road where the house supposedly was is next to what the Internet says is a Superfund site. Fifty years ago, companies dumped tar and creosote into the river before conveniently going bankrupt so they wouldn’t have to pay for any cleanup.
    I see something white in the distance, but it takes a while to recognize it. Someone has put up a white cross next to the road, the way people do to mark where someone died in a car accident. We park about twenty feet away. After getting out of the car, we walk toward it without saying anything. Our feet crunch on the gravel. The river rushes on our right, but I can’t see it.
    Looking at the cross is creepy. Crosses mean dead people, but no one has said Kayla’s dead. Maybe Kayla’s parents already know more than Pete, know that it is her blood, or have even already identified her body. I imagine her being pulled from the water, her skin so white it’s nearly violet, her tangled black hair covering her face.
    Kayla’s senior picture is glued to the center where the two wooden sticks meet. One arm of the cross says Kayla in purple glitter. The other arm says cutler. A purple teddy bear is propped at the base.
    “When I think of Kayla, I don’t think of white crosses or purple teddy bears,” I tell Gabie. Kayla never talked about religion, and she doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who still likes stuffed animals.
    “You never know.” Gabie takes a deep breath and her lips tremble. “Chase me.”
    I hear what she says, but I can’t understand it. Or I understand it all right, but I can’t believe it. “What?”
    “Chase me. Chase me down to the river.”
    I stop pretending I don’t know what she means. “It’s still light out,” I point out. “It was dark then. It’s not the same.”
    “Please,” she urges, “chase me.” She runs a few steps, stops. Her eyes are shiny.
    “That’s crazy. That’s sick. You heard the cop. He wanted Kayla.”
    Gabie shakes her head so hard her hair whips out. “I don’t think so.” Her face wrinkles up. She presses her fingers against her lips. She looks like she’s going to cry or throw up. “It was supposed to be me,” she whispers from behind her fingers.
    I puff air out of my lips. “But why do you want me to chase you?”
    “I’m freaking out, Drew! I can’t stop thinking about it. I need to know what it was like for Kayla.”

The Fourth Day
     
    Gabie
     
    I IMAGINE KAYLA running. I’ve seen her run the bases before. She’s fast. Tricky. She takes chances, takes a lead off the base, daring the pitcher to pick her off. She steals when she can. Always with a grin.
    In my mind’s eye, Kayla’s running into the dark, her hands in front of her, her breath coming in panicked gasps.
    But why did she get out of the car? She could have locked the doors or leaned on the horn; she could have used her cell phone or driven away. She could have run him over. I imagine her punching the gas, the satisfying thunk as he disappeared under her bumper.
    But instead Kayla got out of the car. And then she must have run. For whatever reason, she didn’t get back in. Maybe he was between her and the car. Or did she try, did Kayla try to stay in the car, and he dragged her out while she kicked and screamed? But then I remember how they found her purse, still sitting on the passenger seat, undisturbed. So whatever happened happened outside the car.
    Kayla set the parking brake. She got out of the car. Was she by herself then? But if she was by herself, why would she get the pizzas? There’s no house nearby. She would only do that if she thought she was with whoever had ordered them.
    Or did the guy grab them after he had done whatever he