by Irene Hannon
Nothing had changed after their talk last week. She’d hoped a kinder, gentler approach would reach Thomma, but he hadn’t mentioned their conversation once or warmed up to Elisa.
And she had no idea what to try next.
Toby bounded over as she brushed the dirt off her slacks, and she gave him a distracted pet.
Those two girls inside could use some of his boundless energy and enthusiasm. They were both far too solemn and quiet.
“You want to come in or stay outside?” Mariam tossed the question to the dog as she ascended the steps.
He dashed over and scrambled up past her.
She chuckled. “I guess that is my answer.”
The instant she opened the door, he zipped through and charged down the hall.
No reason for her to follow and wake the girls. Toby would take care of that job.
As she closed the door and moved over to the counter, the beagle began to bark.
Mariam frowned.
He’d been much less prone to yap for no reason since Thomma had begun training him. Why would he revert to his old ways now?
“Toby! Kunn hadyaan!” Hopefully her son’s magic command would quiet him and he’d come running for a treat.
It didn’t work today.
She huffed out a breath.
Were the girls egging him on?
That wasn’t their usual style—but who knew what the two of them were up to, after that cookie pilfering stunt they’d pulled earlier in the week? It was fortunate she’d found the stash they’d been hoarding in Molly’s bedroom, or one of these days she’d have been dealing with two very sick youngsters after a cookie orgy.
“Toby! Come in here!”
He hurtled back down the hall and began dancing around her legs, barking at full volume.
She put her hands over her ears. “What is wrong with you today? Be quiet!”
He ran over to the hall, turned to her, and continued to bark.
When she didn’t respond, he dashed back and nipped at her pants leg.
“Toby! Stop that!” She waved him off.
He tried again, this time tugging on the fabric. Like he wanted her to follow him.
“Fine. I’ll come. I need to see what those girls are up to.”
He ran ahead, disappeared into Molly’s room—and fell silent.
At the threshold, she found him waiting beside the bed, panting as he twisted his head back and forth.
Now she understood what this was all about.
The girls weren’t in the room.
A tingle of panic raced along her spine.
But they had to be here somewhere.
They must be playing a game. Hiding and waiting for her to find them.
“Elisa! Molly! Come out!”
Even as she issued the order, her stomach began to churn.
And the roiling worsened after she looked in the closet, peered under the bed, and broadened her search to the whole house with no results.
If the girls were inside, they’d hidden themselves well.
She did another circuit, noting details that hadn’t registered on her first pass.
A slightly open drawer in Molly’s dresser.
The absence of Molly’s ratty blanket and Elisa’s Raggedy Ann doll.
Crumbs on the kitchen counter.
As a suspicion began to form . . . and gel . . . she pulled open several drawers in Molly’s room.
The clothing had been disturbed, and there were gaps.
Same with the clothes in her closet.
In the kitchen, she yanked open the refrigerator.
The jelly bottle and jar of peanut butter weren’t in their usual places.
All at once the reasons for the secret stash of cookies became clear.
Mariam closed the door and slumped against the counter as suspicion morphed to sickening certainty.
The girls had run away.
This was a disaster.
As Logan sped out of town toward home, he tried to put the brakes on his racing pulse.
Failed.
Molly was gone.
How could this have happened?
Susan hadn’t been able to get many details out of the distraught Mariam before she phoned him, but she’d promised to call the woman back and try again while he drove home.
Maybe the girls were somewhere on the property. Or had ventured down to the beach. Or were hiding in the house in a spot Mariam hadn’t checked, playing one of the make-believe games they liked to concoct.
Please God, let this have a simple resolution.
Even as he said the silent prayer, though, every instinct in his body told him they had, in fact, run away.
But why should that surprise him? He’d failed miserably in his efforts to connect with his niece, and she’d told him Elisa didn’t think her father loved her anymore.
There couldn’t be two better runaway candidates.
And while they were too little to get far on their own, there were people in the world who would find the temptation of two young girls alone hard to resist.
A wave of nausea swept over him, and he jammed the accelerator to the floor. If Lexie or one of her patrol officers wanted to give him a ticket, so be it. They were next on his list to call anyway if this wasn’t resolved within ten minutes.
He zoomed down his street, tires squealing as he swung into the driveway and barreled toward the back of the house. After setting the brake, he leaped from the car and ran for the door.
Mariam was waiting for him in the kitchen, cheeks moist, worry scoring her features.
“So sorry.” Her voice was shaky.
That answered his first question.
The girls hadn’t turned up.
His phone began to vibrate, and he yanked it off his belt. Susan. He slapped it to his ear. “I’m home. Did you get any more information?”
“A little.”
He listened as she explained in more detail what had transpired, along with the evidence that had led Mariam to conclude the girls had run away.
“Will you be available to translate? After I do a fast search myself, I’ll be calling the police. They’ll want to ask her some questions too.”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone contact Thomma?”
“Mariam tried, but he’s not answering his cell. He’s on the boat and must be out of range. She left a message.”
“Okay. Stand by for other calls.”
As he disconnected, he touched Mariam’s arm. If the girls had snuck out during their nap, this wasn’t her fault—and he didn’t want to add another burden to the many she already carried.
“We’ll find them. I look.” He pointed to his eyes and swept a hand around the house. “Here and beach.”
It was impossible to know if she’d understood all of that, but he didn’t have time to try and explain.
He did a fast but thorough pass through the house, as he was certain she’d done. But no one other than him would have noticed a key clue.
Molly’s Disney princess suitcase and backpack were missing.
His gut twisted.
That sealed the deal.
Short of hiking out to 101, though, there was only one other place the girls could have gone—and that was his next stop.
“I go to beach.” He motioned toward the water. “Stay here. Call if you see girls.” He tapped his phone and hers. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.” Angling his watch to her, he flashed the fingers of one hand three times.
She nodded.
He took off out the door, dashed around the hedge at the base of the driveway, and jogged toward the lavender beds behind Jeannette’s house.
Slowed.
If the girls had cut through the farm, might she have seen them?
Not likely. If she had, she would have stopped them or called Mariam.
But it was worth asking.
He knocked on the back door. Waited. Knocked again.
No answer.
She must be out.<
br />
Giving up, he sprinted down the path at the back of the property that led to the beach.
In less than five minutes, he emerged at the top of a dune that provided a sweeping view of the vast expanse of sand.
It was deserted.
So where were they?
That was a question he was going to need help answering.
Logan pulled out his phone and called the Hope Harbor police department.
As soon as he explained the situation to the woman who answered, she put him through to Lexie Graham Stone, who listened to the story, asked for a description of Molly and Elisa, and promised to be at his house within ten minutes.
“Is there anything I should do in the meantime?” Logan gave the empty beach another one-eighty.
“Find a recent photo of Molly and text it to me. Do you happen to have one of Elisa?”
“Yes. I took a shot of the two girls together a couple of weeks ago.”
“Perfect. Send that one. We’ll distribute it and the description you gave me of both girls immediately so police in surrounding areas can be on the lookout for them. Expect me soon.”
Logan hit the end button, slid the phone back into his pocket, and examined his trembling hands as a wave of guilt crashed over him.
This was all his fault.
If he’d gotten Molly some professional help sooner, this might never have happened.
She was hurting and sad and scared, and much as he’d hoped his love would help her heal, it hadn’t been enough.
And he should have admitted that weeks ago.
Now he could lose her for real.
The wind pummeled him as he stood at the top of the dune, and he lifted his gaze toward the heavens.
Please, Lord, help us find the girls. Molly’s the only family I have left, and I’ve come to love her as if she were my own daughter. I know she doesn’t believe that, but please help her realize how much I care for her—and give me another chance to prove it to her.
A drop of rain spattered against his cheek . . . almost like a teardrop.
As if God was crying.
A chill rippled through him.
Not the kind of reassurance he’d hoped his prayer would yield.
But he wasn’t going to let negative thoughts undermine his resolve.
They’d find the girls, and they were going to be just fine. Scared, maybe. Chilly and dirty, in all likelihood. But otherwise unharmed.
And once they got this incident behind them, he and Molly were going to find a way to become the family they both needed.
Whatever it took.
24
Why on earth had a police car traveling at high speed just swung into Logan’s driveway?
Mail in hand, Jeannette stared at the faint cloud of dust left in the wake of the cruiser.
That had been Lexie at the wheel, though the woman had been so intent on her driving she hadn’t even glanced toward the lavender farm.
Yet the siren on the car hadn’t been blaring.
What was going on?
Jeannette closed the door of the mailbox and shoved back her hair, still damp from the shower.
Should she go over? Offer her help?
Or would that come across as nosy, given her I-want-to-be-left-alone-so-keep-your-distance message to Logan in her kitchen last Saturday?
And if she did want to keep him at arm’s length, she ought to march back into her house and close the door.
As she tried to decide what to do, the other Hope Harbor police car topped the rise down the road and accelerated toward her. It too swerved into Logan’s driveway, Officer Jim Gleason behind the wheel, and disappeared with a crunch of gravel.
This wasn’t good.
No ambulance or fire truck had been dispatched—yet—but two police cars didn’t bode well.
And she couldn’t pretend she didn’t care.
She took a deep breath . . . let it out . . . and faced the truth.
Like it or not, Logan and Molly had managed to infiltrate her heart—and she couldn’t turn her back on them during an emergency.
As for what that meant after the crisis was over?
She had no idea.
But she’d borrow a page from Gone with the Wind and worry about that tomorrow.
Jeannette shoved the mail back into the box and hustled up Logan’s driveway.
The front door was open as she approached—and there was only one word to describe the scene inside.
Chaos.
Toby was barking and playing catch-me-if-you-can with Logan. Mariam was crying. Lexie was on the phone, one hand pressed to her free ear. Jim, leash in hand, was acting as running back for Logan as they tried to corral the beagle.
She scanned the room for Molly.
The girl was nowhere in sight.
A stomach-twisting sense of foreboding enveloped her.
“Jeannette!” Logan lost his focus on Toby for a millisecond, and the pup made his move.
But Jim was faster. He nabbed him and snapped on the leash. “You have a cage for this guy?”
“Yeah. First door on the right down the hall.” Logan’s gaze remained fixed on her as he crossed the room.
Only as he drew close, and the outside light fell on his face, did Jeannette pick up his pallor and the grooves of worry etched on his brow.
“What’s wrong?” She braced.
He pushed through the door to the porch. “Molly and Elisa ran away.”
“Oh no.” She pressed her palm to her mouth.
“Oh yes.” His tone and demeanor were grim. “From what we can gather, based on Susan’s conversation with Mariam, the girls took off while she was outside working in the garden during their nap.”
“You’re certain it’s a runaway situation?” Bad as that was, the alternative was worse.
“Ninety-nine percent. They packed a bag, made sandwiches, and took some personal items.”
“How long have they been gone?”
“No more than a couple of hours.”
“They can’t have gotten far.”
“Unless someone picked them up.”
He didn’t have to spell out what that could mean.
“Does Thomma know?”
“Mariam can’t reach him. He must be out of cell range. She left a message for him to call ASAP.”
“How can I help?”
“The fact you’re here helps more than you know.” He took her hand. Squeezed her fingers.
She squeezed back.
The barking inside grew muffled, and Jim reappeared. “The noise is contained—more or less.”
“Come in.” Logan opened the door and moved aside for her to precede him.
“Jeannette.” The chief shook her hand. “I was about to pay you a visit. Have you been home all afternoon?”
“Yes.”
“I knocked about twenty minutes ago, on my way to check the beach.” Logan arched an eyebrow.
“That must have been while I was in the shower.” She lifted a few damp strands of hair.
“Did you notice any unusual activity or see any strangers in the area this afternoon?” Lexie asked.
“No. It’s been very quiet.”
“I understand you watched Molly a few times. Did she say anything to you that would give us a clue as to why she ran away, or where she may have gone?”
“I know she was having some difficulty adjusting to all the changes in her life, but she never said anything about leaving. Other than telling me about her life in Missouri with her grandmother, and offering a few comments about the months she spent in San Francisco with Logan, she never mentioned any other places.”
“Okay.” Lexie directed her attention to Logan. “I’ve got a call into the Springfield PD, which has a K-9 unit with trailing capabilities, and I left a message with a private citizen in the Medford area who has a well-trained bloodhound and often assists law enforcement in search-and-rescue operations. However, travel time is close to three hours in the first case, three and a ha
lf in the second.”
“That’s too long. A ton of bad stuff can happen in three hours.” A muscle twitched in his cheek.
“I know. That’s why we’re going to put together some volunteer search parties to begin scouring the area. We’ve also sent law enforcement in our vicinity the photo and description you provided, and I gave it to Marci at the Herald. She’s sending an alert to the paper’s email list and soliciting volunteers to join the search. As soon as Susan calls me back, I want to ask Mariam a few more—” She pulled her phone off her belt. “Here she is now. Excuse me.”
Lexie crossed to Mariam, while Jim did a walk-through of the house.
“Let’s go outside again for a minute.” Logan took her arm and guided her back to the porch. Once away from all the activity inside, he faced her. “I can’t believe this is happening. I knew she was unhappy, but I didn’t think she was so miserable that she felt her only recourse was to run away.” His voice rasped, and he swallowed.
“I’m sorry, Logan.” She laid her hand on his arm. “And if it helps, I didn’t get the impression she had anything like this on her mind, either. I wonder if Elisa put her up to it? There’s a heavy load of sorrow in that child’s life too. Do you have any idea where they might go?”
His eyes grew bleak. “No. I don’t know enough about how Molly thinks to even make an educated guess. How sad is that?”
“It’s not like you haven’t tried to get her to open up and bond with you.”
One side of his mouth rose in a mirthless smile. “I seem to be batting zero on that score across the board.”
Lexie joined them on the porch, saving her from having to respond. “Jim’s going to give the house and yard a thorough going-over. I’ll head back to town and get the search parties organized.”
“I’ll go with you.” Logan pulled out his keys.
“I know you want to be involved, but someone should stay here in case the girls wander back.”
“I stay.” Mariam dabbed a tissue around her lashes and joined them.
“Logan?” Lexie deferred to him.
“That’s fine. I can’t just sit around waiting for news, and Mariam’s ankle isn’t strong enough yet for her to search anyway.”
“Sounds like a plan. Let’s gather at the high school. We’ll set up the command post in the gym. There’s more room there to map out some grids and assign teams as people show up.”
