“No.”
“Are you afraid someone is coming?”
The boy looked at the floor.
“Yes.”
Daniel sat across from him.
“Who?”
Eli's fingers tightened around the mug.
“The man who owns the house.”
Daniel stared at him.
“What house?”
Eli looked up.
“The blue-door house.”
Before Daniel could ask another question, headlights appeared at the end of the driveway.
Eli dropped his spoon.
His face went white.
He jumped from the chair.
“No.”
Daniel stood.
“Eli?”
“They found me.”
The boy ran toward the back door.
Daniel followed.
“Wait!”
Eli looked over his shoulder.
Then he whispered:
“Don't tell them I'm here.”
And disappeared into the darkness.
Daniel stood frozen.
Outside, a vehicle stopped near the farmhouse.
The engine remained running.
A man stepped out.
Daniel couldn't see his face clearly through the rain.
But he heard him shout.
“Daniel Reed!”
Daniel's blood went cold.
The man knew his name.
And suddenly Daniel understood that the boy hadn't accidentally found his house.
Someone had sent him here.
Someone who knew exactly where Daniel lived.
THE BLUE DOOR
Daniel turned off every light in the farmhouse.
He walked to the window and pulled the curtain back by half an inch.
The stranger stood beside a black pickup truck.
Tall.
Broad shoulders.
Dark coat.
He didn't hurry.
He simply stood in the rain as though he knew Daniel was watching.
Then he raised his voice.
“Mr. Reed, we're looking for a boy.”
Daniel said nothing.
The man waited.
“His name is Eli.”
Still nothing.
“We believe he came this way.”
Daniel glanced toward the hallway.
Eli was nowhere to be seen.
Then Sam growled.
Daniel looked down.
The dog was staring at the basement door.
Daniel's heart skipped.
He walked toward it.
The basement door was slightly open.
He pulled it wider.
“Eli?”
No answer.
Daniel descended the stairs.
The basement was dark.
Boxes filled the walls.
Old tools.
Christmas decorations.
Margaret's furniture.
Daniel switched on the light.
Nothing.
Then he heard breathing.
Behind the old furnace.
He moved carefully.
Eli was crouched there.
His knees were pressed against his chest.
“It's okay,” Daniel whispered.
The boy shook his head.
“No.”
Daniel crouched several feet away.
“The man outside says he's looking for you.”
Eli covered his ears.
“Don't let him take me.”
“I won't.”
The words came out before Daniel could think.
Eli stared at him.
Daniel realized the promise mattered.
So he repeated it.
“I won't let him take you.”
A vehicle door slammed outside.
Eli flinched.
Daniel sat on the basement floor.
“What is the blue door?”
The boy remained silent.
“You don't have to tell me everything.”
Eli looked at the metal key.
Finally he said:
“My mother told me never to open it.”
“Why?”
“Because there are things inside that people would kill for.”
Daniel felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.
“What things?”
Eli shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“Then why did you bring the key?”
“My mother gave it to me.”
“Where is she?”
Eli's eyes filled with tears.
“She told me to run.”
Daniel waited.
“She said if anything happened to her, I had to find Daniel Reed.”
Daniel stopped breathing.
“Why me?”
Eli pulled a folded piece of paper from inside his shirt.
He handed it to Daniel.
The paper was wet.
Daniel unfolded it carefully.
There was one sentence written in black ink.
If Eli reaches you, trust no one except Daniel Reed.
Below it was a name.
Anna Miller.
Daniel recognized the name.
His hands began to shake.
Anna Miller had been a young woman Daniel knew twenty years earlier.
She had worked at the county emergency office.
She had helped him during one of the worst wildfires in the region.
Daniel hadn't seen her in fifteen years.
He had heard she moved away.
He had never heard she had a son.
“Your mother's name is Anna?”
Eli nodded.
Daniel stared at the paper.
“What happened to her?”
Eli whispered:
“She disappeared three nights ago.”
Outside, the stranger shouted again.
“Daniel! Open the door!”
Daniel folded the paper.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Eli—”
“I don't want to be alone.”
Daniel looked at the boy.
Something about those words broke through his defenses.
“Okay.”
He stood.
“We'll stay together.”
Daniel climbed upstairs.
He opened the front door but kept the chain attached.
The stranger stood on the porch.
Up close, Daniel could see his face.
Forty years old.
Cold eyes.
Small scar across his cheek.
“Name?”
“Victor Hale.”
“Can I help you?”
“You can give me the boy.”
“I don't have any boy.”
Victor smiled.
“You're lying.”
Daniel's voice hardened.
“You're standing on my property at midnight during a storm. Unless you have a warrant, leave.”
Victor's smile disappeared.
“You don't understand what you're involved in.”
“I don't care.”
“You should.”
Victor leaned closer.
“Anna Miller stole something.”
Daniel said nothing.
“She took something from people who don't forgive theft.”
“Then call the police.”
Victor laughed.
“You think the police don't know?”
That sentence stayed with Daniel.
Victor stepped away.
“We'll be back.”
Daniel closed the door.