Blackwood Read Online Free Page A

was too heavy for this early in the day, even for peak tourist season, which late summer wasn't. Big evacs didn't happen without a day or two's warning, though, and there weren't enough rental cars in the mix. Tourists took off when weather threatened, but plenty of locals, including Miranda and her dad, chose to ride out hurricanes the old-fashioned way, with sandbags, boarded-up windows, and peanut butter sandwiches.
      By the time she reached the edge of town and Manteo's box of a police station – bizarrely painted bright blue – she was convinced something was really, really wrong. The jail's parking lot was across the street, and way bigger than it would ever need to be. Only, the lot was full.
      At least a couple dozen people were milling around outside the jail. Slowing, she watched the woman who owned the town movie theater hug a bearded older man. They were both crying. A local TV van was parked half on the curb, a cameraman capturing the pair's worried embrace.
      She managed to find a spot a street over, and hurried back toward the jail. The people spilled onto the sidewalks around the station gave off fear and worry like a force field. She was about to make her way inside the jail when Chief Rawling emerged from the glass doors.
      A sleek-haired blonde reporter launched out of the van toward him, snapping her fingers for the cameraman to follow. She had giant blue eyes like an anime deer's. Miranda had seen her in person before, when she'd come to the theater to announce the winners of random prizes. But Miranda couldn't remember her name. Blondie would do for a nickname. Wait. Scratch that. Blondie had been her mom's favorite band. Blue Doe . That was better.
      Blue Doe approached Chief Rawling, leaning into her right hand to cradle her earpiece and signaling for him to stop walking. He looked like he was having a very bad day. He was as put together as usual – black hair clipped short, face clean-shaven, navy uniform pressed – but deep lines cut into his forehead and around his mouth.
      The chief had always been nice to Miranda, one of the few people in town who didn't treat her or her dad like outcasts. He had that problem child of his own – so what if hers was her dad? – or at least Phillips had been a problem before his parents shipped him off to juvenile delinquent school. Miranda flushed thinking of Phillips. Her memory of him that day at school stayed sharp as a film she could replay at any time. So did the memory of how he'd looked at her later, like he understood how she felt. It wasn't fair he could look at her like that after what he'd done.
      Behind Miranda, someone choked down a sob. She put away thoughts of the chief's trouble-making son and shifted a few steps closer to hear better. The crowd quieted when Blue Doe held up a finger, signaling the interview was about to begin.
      "Live in three, two…" Blue Doe said. She put on an important voice, "Chief Rawling, what can you tell us about the events of this morning? Is this a mass kidnapping? Is it a terrorist action? A hoax?"
      What in the world was Blue Doe talking about?
      Chief Rawling rubbed his forehead then lowered his hand, visibly remembering he was on camera. "We're not sure at this point, beyond reports of a large number of missing people."
       A large number of missing people.
      "How many citizens of Roanoke Island are believed missing at this point?"
      "We've had about a hundred missing persons call-ins this morning, but that number is extremely preliminary. Most of those people will probably turn up," Chief Rawling said.
       Most of those people will probably turn up.
      "Should people leave the island?"
      "It's too early to recommend that people leave. What we need now is for people to let us know if a loved one is missing, and to report any unusual activity. I'm sorry, but I also need to ask everyone to please wait at the courthouse. We need to keep this building free for police