So what had happened to change all that? Had they uncovered more victims? More missing girls, buried and forgotten? But surely, if that were the case, it would have been on the news.

Which left something else, something more recent.

She quickly ran through the reasons why that should be impossible.

She’d used a pay phone.

Anonymously.

With no witnesses around to see her.

It had to be the serial-killer case.

Her cell phone rang again, jolting her back to awareness. She leaned forward and pulled the phone toward her with one finger, as though it were something repulsive . . . something to fear. She glimpsed down at the screen.

It was the same number.

Violet was assaulted by the lingering, stomach-clenching sensation that she was missing something.

She briefly thought about answering it, to find out once and for all. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it, and, instead, she shoved the phone away.

She decided that, for now, ignorance really was bliss.

Chapter 7

By the time Jay finally showed up, Violet couldn’t wait to get out of her house. She was a nervous wreck from waiting around all afternoon, afraid that the FBI was going to call again. And even though she’d silenced her cell phone, there was nothing she could do about her home phone.

It only rang twice, but each time she practically jumped out of her skin, worrying about who might be on the other end.

Fortunately neither was her mysterious FBI caller. Once it was her dad calling to say he’d be home late from work. Typical. And the other was Jay, since he couldn’t reach her on her cell, telling Violet that he’d pick her up at six.

Violet was surprised that they were going out, mostly because she’d assumed they’d be staying in, “doing homework,” among other things. But apparently Jay had other plans.

She was waiting outside when he pulled up.

He hopped out of his car and held open the passenger-side door for her. Violet eyed him suspiciously; he was acting really weird.

“All set?” he asked when he got in again.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “You tell me. Where are we going?”

He grinned, trying to pull off laid-back but a little too anxious to sell it. “It’s a surprise.”

“Really? What is it?” Already she could feel the tension lifting. Jay was a great distraction.

“Do you understand the concept of ‘surprise,’ Violet? Telling you would kind of defeat the purpose.”

“Can I guess?” she asked, suddenly giddy.

Violet hated surprises. Christmases and birthdays had been like torture when she was a little girl. She would drop hint after hint about what she wanted, making long, elaborate lists for her parents, usually in numerical order. And after handing them over, she would resort to pleading, cajoling, and searching for whatever they’d gotten for her. She’d spent hours of her childhood combing through closets and scouring beneath beds in search of their secret hiding places, only to be disappointed that her parents had outsmarted her yet again.

A part of her—albeit a really, really small part—had even learned to dread the arrival of the holidays. She was certain it was some sort of sick Pavlovian response to the Christmas season, knowing that she would, once again, be afflicted by her crippling inability to wait patiently, while she counted down the days until the big fat man in the red suit made his annual appearance.

But tonight was different. Tonight she was with Jay, and almost everything, even a surprise, was tolerable when they were together.

He considered her request before answering, and she could tell he was enjoying this. Jay loved this particular weakness of hers. “You can guess, but I’m still not telling.”

“What if I guess right?”

“Then you’d be pretty freakin’ amazing.”

She pretended to be offended. “So, what if I don’t figure it out . . . ?”

His uneven grin made an appearance. “You’re still pretty freakin’ amazing, Violet.” He lifted her hand, pressing it lightly to his lips.

Violet felt herself blushing. She knew how to handle his teasing, but she still hadn’t gotten used to this gentler, sweeter side of him.

“You’re such a girl,” she chided, but somehow the words came out too soft . . . too tender, and ended up sounding like a compliment.

Jay just laughed. “So what does that make you, the guy?” He squeezed her hand even tighter, keeping it buried in his.

“Or some sort of lesbian,” she teased, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe we should try out a little girl-on-girl action.”

“Nice, Violet. Do you kiss your mom with that mouth?” His eyes glinted as he watched her.

She leaned closer to him in the darkness of the car’s interior. “No, but I’ll kiss you with it.”

He set her hand back in her lap. “Watch it, Vi, or I might pull over right now and we’ll never make it there.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Make it where?”

“Nice try, but you can’t distract me that easily. . . . It’s still a surprise.”

He drove the rest of the way in silence, pretending to ignore her, even though she knew she’d gotten to him. And then he flipped on his blinker and turned again, coming to a stop in the deserted parking lot of a lakefront park. It was an odd location for this time of year, made stranger by the darkness that was shrouding the crisp night.

Violet looked at him curiously. “What are we doing here?”