GONE by McMann Lisa

Author:McMann, Lisa [McMann, Lisa]
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2010-05-21T18:06:29+00:00

MONDAY

August 7, 2006, 10:35 a.m.

A dream catcher. Her father. Just like her.

Unbelievable.

Janie slips into her running clothes and makes her way to the bus stop. Takes it to the last stop on the edge of town. And runs the rest of the way.

Things in the country are so much slower than they are in town. Janie’s feet slap the pavement as she runs along, the whole world seemingly coming to a stop before her eyes. Row after row of ripe corn begs to be harvested—Janie can see the soft brown tassels go by in a blur as she runs.

Her glasses slip down on her nose from the sweat, and she is reminded yet again that she needs to take in the sights for as long as she can. It makes her sick to think about losing all of this, so she absorbs it, one step after another, until her mind wanders again.

She hears the buzz of tree frogs and remembers how, when she was little, she used to think that the intense buzz was not an animal, but the sound of electrical wires, bustling with energy. When she learned the noise came from frogs, she didn’t believe it.

Still doesn’t.

After all, she’s never actually seen one.

And as she sucks in stale, humid air, the faint odor of cow manure becomes common. Alongside it is the sickly sweet smell of wildflowers and the searing hint of recent road patching.

Janie’s mind is clear and her purpose is sure when she reaches the long, overgrown driveway of Henry’s house. She slows to a walk, trying to cool down.

Just as she reaches the clearing, her cell phone buzzes in her pocket. She ignores it, knowing it’s probably Cabel. Needs to think. To do this alone. She opens the door and steps inside the house.

That eerie feeling comes over her—the one that makes her shiver and feel a little bit dizzy and sick all at the same time when being somewhere overtly quiet and extremely off-limits. Janie huffs, still winded, and the noise breaks the silence. “Talk to me, Henry, you creepy little strangler,” Janie says softly. “Show me how I can help you.”

She walks to the kitchen, wipes her sweaty forehead on a kitchen towel and grabs a glass from the cupboard. Turns on the faucet. The water chokes and spurts out, a lovely rust color until it run clears a moment later. Janie lets it run for a minute and then fills the glass. Drinks it, the tepid water not quite raunchy enough to make her gag.

She decides to tackle the computer first. Boots it up and realizes that it’s on dial-up. Not surprising for way out here in the country, but still totally annoying. “Talk to me,” she mutters again, tapping her fingers impatiently on the table.

First, she looks through his bookmarks. Immediately finds Henry’s online store account and logs in, his username and password unprotected, already filled in. Janie peruses the online store, called Dottie’s Place. Finds a collection of odd, unrelated

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