Fifty-Seven

Trent and Bonnie continued to drive aimlessly around Milford.

"I'm sorry," Bonnie said. "This is starting to seem pointless."

"It's okay. I don't mind. You never know. We might get lucky, see something."

Bonnie slowly shook her head in dismay. "I just don't—"

The sound of an incoming text stopped her midsentence. Bonnie looked down, the phone already in her hand in case she received a call or message from her sister.

"What is it?" Trent asked.

"What the..."

"What?" Trent asked.

She raised the phone up briefly so he could see the screen. There was a number at the top, and then a text of just two words.

"Who's it from?" he said.

"I don't know."

"What's it say?" He hadn't been able to make out the message when Bonnie had flashed the screen at him.

She said, "There's typos, but I think it's meant to say Walnut Beach."

"Walnut Beach?"

Bonnie looked at him and nodded. "I know where that is."

"Me, too," he said, taking his foot off the gas and letting the car slow.

"It's him," she said. "It has to be Richard. He's sending a message. Has to be. Has to be Richard."

Trent nodded furiously. "That'd be my bet, too."

He brought the car to a stop, glanced in his side mirror, saw no car coming, and did a U-turn, tires squealing. Once the car was pointed in the right direction, he floored it.

"Call your sister," he said.

Bonnie was already on it. Marta answered on the second ring.

"Walnut Beach!" she shouted.

"What?" Marta said.

"We think we know where he is! Walnut Beach!"

Marta said, "How do you—"

"A text! I got a text!"

"From Richard?"

"Not his phone. But I bet it's him!"

"Okay, wherever you are, stay put and—"

"We're going there now."

"No, Bonnie, no, let us—"

"I'll text him back, tell him we're coming!"

"No!" Marta shouted. "If it's Richard, he must have done it secretly. If you send a text back—"

"Okay, okay, I won't," Bonnie said. "Trent and I are on our way!"

"Do not go—"

Bonnie ended the call.