by Tracy Weber
Rainbow closed the silverware drawer and reached for a sauce pan. “Mom was gone too long this time. She’s been on benders before, but only for a day or two. Three at the most. By the time I left, she was gone over two weeks. I tried to find her, but she wasn’t in any of her normal places. That was almost three months ago. I was planning to go back when she did.”
“How do you know she’s not back already?”
“When she isn’t strung out, she’s not a terrible mother. If she’d come home and I wasn’t there, she would have messaged me on Instagram, especially now that school’s in session.”
“She wouldn’t call you?”
“My cell phone stopped working shortly after I ran. The one I have now is a burner. Mom doesn’t have the number.” There was a long pause. When the teen spoke again, her voice was so soft, I could barely hear it. “I’m afraid she’s so far gone now that she’ll never come back. I can’t live with Dean if she’s not there.”
“Living with your stepfather is that hard?” I asked.
“It’s unbearable.”
I lowered my voice. “Rainbow, does he hit you?”
“Sometimes, but I can handle that.”
I consciously kept my expression neutral, but my entire body vibrated. “What can’t you handle?”
She didn’t answer, at least not directly. “I used to sneak out to see Jace sometimes. Dean caught me, and he took the lock off my room. He claimed he did it because he needed to keep an eye on me.” She finished drying the pan and set it on the stove. “I woke up the next night, and he was standing over my bed, staring at me.”
“Did he … ” I was afraid to finish the question.
Rainbow twisted the dish towel between her hands. “No. I screamed, and he left. But I wasn’t about to give him a second chance. Jace and I took off the next day.”
I stared into her eyes, trying to discern whether or not she was telling the truth. The shadows behind them indicated that she wasn’t, at least not completely. I suspected, however, that any lies were ones of omission. Her real story might be worse.
“Rainbow, you have rights. If your stepfather hurt you, we can call Child Protective Services. You won’t have to go back to him.”
“So I can get stuck in the foster system? I’m better off on the street.”
I wasn’t so sure. “What about your biological father?”
“What about him? Mom got pregnant at sixteen, and she wasn’t exactly the Virgin Mary. She has no idea who my bio dad is. For most of my life, it was just Mom and me. Then it was Mom, me, and Master Sergeant Sicko. Now it’s just me.”
She tossed the towel on the counter. “I’m tired of talking. Are we done here?”
The answer, of course, was no. We weren’t even close to finished. But I’d already pushed Rainbow pretty hard. One more nudge and I might lose her. “Sure. Let’s grab some sheets, and I’ll make up the sofa bed for you. It’s actually pretty comfortable.”
It was a great plan. Or it would have been, if Michael hadn’t been pacing the living room like a caged mountain lion. Bella lay near the fireplace, eyes worriedly tracking him.
“Michael, would you please grab a set of clean sheets? Rainbow’s ready for bed.” Her real name, Rain, still felt foreign to me.
Michael stopped pacing and glared. “Kate, I need to talk to you.” He paused for emphasis. “Alone.” Another pause. “Now.”
Rainbow tensed. I smiled, hoping to reassure her. “Your clothes are probably done washing. Why don’t you toss them in the dryer? There are fresh sheets in the linen closet upstairs.” I pointed to the sofa. “Pull this out and make it up. Michael and I will chat in the office. We’ll only be a few minutes.”
She glanced at the front door, as if mentally planning an escape route.
“You’re safe here,” I assured her. “I promise.”
Michael marched into the office. Mouse awoke from her nap on the desk, growled at Michael, hiss-spat at me, then tore into the living room. “Don’t try to touch the cat, Rainbow!” I called. “She’s not as nice as Bella.”
I turned to close the door, then reconsidered and left it halfway open. If Rainbow decided to bolt, I wanted to hear it.
Michael lowered his voice, but his tone was decidedly cranky. “Who is that kid and why is she staying at our house?”
I told Michael everything that I knew so far. That I’d met Rainbow at Teen Path HOME, that she was a sixteen-year-old runaway from Tacoma, that her boyfriend had taken off with their camping supplies, that her mother was missing, and that she’d had an altercation with her abusive stepfather today.
“How do you know anything she told you is true?” he asked.
“I guess I don’t. But what was I supposed to do? She was soaked, and it’s freezing outside. Would you seriously want me to leave her out there alone?” Michael didn’t answer. “Besides, Bella likes her. I trust Bella.”
“Are you insane? Bella’s a dog! She hates Sam, for god’s sake. Sam’s one of the nicest people we know.”
“That’s different. Sam has a mustache.” My words sounded ridiculous, but I believed them. Bella had her share of quirks. She sometimes hated perfectly nice people for no discernible reason. But the reverse had never been true. Put simply, Bella wasn’t fond of everyone, but when she did like someone, they deserved to be liked. Period.
“Didn’t your billfold get stolen at that teen center?” Michael asked. “Are you positive this Rainbow kid didn’t take it?”
“You’re right, Michael. Rainbow might have stolen my wallet. Or someone else might have taken it. Or I might have lost it. Or it might be in my car somewhere. What does it matter? What do we have in this house that’s worth taking? Food? The thirty bucks or so we have in cash?” I pointed to my ancient computer. “She won’t get any money hocking this, and it’s worth twice as much as our television. Do you have a hidden stash of gold somewhere you haven’t told me about?” Three silent seconds passed. “Look, I’m not saying that we should keep Rainbow here permanently. Just a few days until I—”
“A few days!” Michael exclaimed. “Kate, listen to yourself. That girl is a teenage runaway. Keeping her here is illegal. We could get charged for harboring a minor and lord knows what else. If she won’t go back to her family, you have to call the police.”
I shook my head. “No. I promised to help her.”
“And you will. By connecting her with the authorities.”
I didn’t reply, but the look I gave him spoke volumes.
“Kate, be reasonable. Say we keep her here for a day, a week, even a month. How does that help her? She’ll end up back on the streets. You know that.”
Unfortunately, I did.
Michael grasped my shoulders in both hands. “We have to be the adults here. If Rainbow’s being abused at home, Child Protective Services will get involved. They deal with these kinds of situations every day. We don’t. You need to leave it to the professionals.”
I hated what Michael was saying, mainly because I knew he was right. I stared at the carpet, willing myself to come up with a different solution. I couldn’t.
“Okay,” I said.
“Okay what?”
I met his eyes, frustrated. “Okay, I’ll call the police, but—”
A sound halfway between a sob and a squeak came from the doorway. A betrayed-looking Rainbow stood behind the partially closed door, clutching my feral calico tightly against her chest.
My first reaction was astonishment. How did she manage to pick up Mouse without needing stitches?
My second was horror. How much of Michael’s and my conversation had Rainbow overheard? How much had she misunderstood?
I’d been about to tell Michael that I’d call the police, but not until tomorrow, after Dale and Dharma arrived, and only if Rainbow agreed. I’d hoped that together, we could come up with a plan tha
t was truly in Rainbow’s best interests.
Rainbow’s voice shook. “You lied. You promised me, no cops.” She set the cat on the floor and backed two steps away. Mouse hissed at me, then bolted.
I took a cautious step toward her. “You didn’t let me finish.”
“Don’t come near me,” she yelled. “You lied to me, just like Jace!” She reached for the doorknob and pulled. The door slammed between us.
Michael and I stared at each other, mouths open in surprised guilt.
“Well, that went well,” I said drolly. “Any other great ideas?” A second door slammed, and I jumped. “The front door! She’s running.”
By the time we got to the living room, Rainbow—and her backpack—were gone. Bella stood on her hind legs, scratching at the front door and whining. Rain flooded the windows.
“Michael, she doesn’t have a coat.” Rainbow’s clothes, including her coat, were still whirling around in my dryer.
“We’ll find her,” he said.
We grabbed our jackets, clipped on Bella’s leash, and jogged out to the sidewalk. I kneeled next to my canine buddy, soaking my knees in icy rainwater. “Which way did she go, girl?”
Bella cocked her head and stared at me, bewildered.
Out of sheer desperation, I tried a different command. “Find it!”
As trained, Bella dropped her nose to the ground and searched for a cookie.
“She doesn’t know what you want, Kate.”
“We have to do something.”
Michael pointed at my Honda. “Rainbow can’t have gotten far. Get your keys and we’ll drive around and look for her.”
Michael and Bella searched our neighbors’ yards while I ran inside to grab my car keys. My purse sat on the floor, next to the opened sofa bed. I rummaged through it, pulling out items one at a time. Lip gloss, chewing gum, wallet, keys. “Yes!” I examined them more carefully and groaned. Damn. The studio keys. I continued searching. Hairbrush, wallet, pens …
I froze.
Wallet?
I laid the second wallet next to the first. The first one was new, almost empty. This one was worn. It bulged with business cards, credit cards, and miscellaneous grocery receipts. Everything except the cash was still there. I pulled out the beloved photo of Dad, Dharma, and me, and held it to my lips.
Rainbow had stolen my wallet. She must have had it in her pack all along. Why had she kept it? Better yet, why had she gone inside my purse to put it back?
I realized the answer to the second question, and my stomach dropped to my knees. Oh no. The gun. I’d been so concerned about my keys that I hadn’t noticed Rainbow’s gun was missing. She must have snagged it while Michael and I were arguing in the office. How could I have been stupid enough to leave her alone with my purse?
Michael opened the door. “Kate! Are you coming?”
My husband was a strict gun control advocate. Now wasn’t the time to admit that I’d brought a semiautomatic into our house. Especially a semiautomatic that was now missing. “I can’t find my keys.”
He pointed to my left. “Isn’t that them on the end table?”
Damn. They’d been there all along. Rainbow must have tossed them on the end table when she pulled out the sofa bed. I scooped them up and joined Michael at the door. “Let’s go.”
Michael, Bella, and I drove around Ballard for over an hour, but we didn’t find Rainbow. I shouldn’t have been surprised. A few-block walk any direction would have taken her to a bus stop. A couple of bucks or the flash of a Metro pass, and she could be anywhere.
But would it be somewhere dry?
My conscience plagued me. Rainbow wasn’t dressed to spend the night outside in this deluge. With no coat and no shelter, would she even survive?
We finally gave up and went home. I gathered Rainbow’s now-dry clothes, my stash of vegan protein bars, and the fifty-seven dollars in cash Michael and I had between us and placed it all inside a plastic container. I set the container on the doorstep and taped a sign with the word Rainbow on top, like a frightened pet parent trying to lure home a runaway kitten. I deluded myself that she’d find it. Maybe she hadn’t gone far. Maybe she was hiding nearby, watching Michael and me.
When I got up at seven the next morning, the prior night’s rain had moved on, replaced by dense, eerie fog. The plastic container still sat, unopened, on my doorstep.
Michael placed his hand on my shoulder. “Maybe she had another coat in her backpack.”
“Maybe.” I doubted it, though. A second coat would have taken up too much room. I hoped she still had the money she’d stolen from me. If she had money, she could at least get a hot meal.
Michael left for Pete’s Pet’s at seven-thirty. He promised to drive around the neighborhood to look for Rainbow, then gave me a sheepish look. “I know you’ll probably spend most of the day searching for her. I want to find her, too. But don’t forget that Dale and Dharma are coming in from Orcas Island tonight. They’ll be here by five.”
I promised to be home by four-thirty. I ground and incubated Bella’s kibble, fed a tin of organic tuna cat food to Mouse, and checked that damned container at least five hundred times. At nine, I opened it up again, took out the cash, and returned the rest of my offering to the doorstep. If Rainbow came back, she’d at least get the clothes and the food. I needed the money for parking.
Bella danced near her leash as I shrugged on my coat, clearly hoping to come with me.
I ruffled her ears. “Sorry, Bella. You’ll have to let Mouse entertain you. Only service dogs are allowed.” I left my disappointed canine buddy behind and headed for Teen Path HOME.
eleven
I maneuvered through rush hour traffic to Teen Path HOME knowing three things for certain. One: Rainbow wouldn’t be there. She wouldn’t risk going anywhere near Teen Path HOME while her stepfather was looking for her. Two: Once I told Gabriel that I’d ignored his edict and taken Rainbow home with me, I likely wouldn’t be invited back either. Three: Neither of the above mattered.
I was desperate to find Rainbow, and Teen Path HOME seemed like the most logical place to start. The staff must know where to look for runaway teens. If not, the youth at the center definitely did. I sprang for an expensive parking spot two blocks away and rushed to the center. Half a block into my journey, I turned right and froze. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
Police cruisers pulsed red and white warnings into the mist and blocked Teen Path HOME’s street from both ends. Yellow crime scene tape cordoned off the center’s entrance. A crowd of people loitered around it. Near the loading zone, a group of about fifteen teens huddled around something on the ground that I couldn’t see. Chuck stood outside the crime scene tape, arguing with a police officer. Vonnie, the art teacher, stood nearby, sobbing. A frustrated-looking officer appeared to be questioning her. I didn’t see Gabriel, but that wasn’t surprising. As the facility’s director, he was likely inside with the police.
The group of teens parted, exposing a yellow lab wearing a green vest. It was Hope. Nicole kneeled on the ground next to her. She saw me, waved, and handed Hope’s leash to one of the teens. As she maneuvered toward me, Nicole wore a somber expression.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” I said. “I thought you and Hope came on Wednesdays.”
“We don’t keep a set schedule. I try to mix it up so Hope can interact with more people.” She pointed to the gathered crowd. “As you can see, mornings are busy.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know, at least not for sure. The police had already blocked off the entrance when I got here. They’re not letting anybody inside, and they aren’t saying why.”
“You say you don’t know for sure. Does that mean you have an idea?”
She frowned. “People are talking, but you know how rumors are. It’s like that telephone game. They’re usually wildl
y inaccurate.”
“Tell me anyway. What are people saying?”
She glanced at the entrance, then at her shoes. “That someone found a body when they opened up this morning.”
Concern about Rainbow sparked to alarm. “A body? Whose?”
“I have no idea. Like I said, the police aren’t talking. I almost left, but I figured if the rumors are right and someone was murdered, people will need a therapy dog today more than ever.” As if proving her point, a ponytailed girl, no older than fourteen, kneeled, wrapped her arms around Hope, and murmured into her fur.
“Murdered?” I asked.
Nicole frowned. “I assume so. The police wouldn’t barricade the block for a heart attack, would they?” Her expression turned pensive. “I guess it could be a suicide.”
The word “suicide” yanked my mind back to Rainbow. She’d told me she’d rather kill herself than go back to her stepfather. That was just teenage melodrama, right?
I frowned at the cordoned-off entrance. Whatever had happened here—suicide, murder, accident, or spontaneous combustion—I damned sure was going to find out. I pointed at Chuck, who was still browbeating a patrol officer. “Let me see if they’ll tell me anything.”
I pushed my way through the crowd and sidled up to the crime scene tape. The officer left Chuck mid-complaint and blocked me. “I’m sorry, ma’am. You’ll have to stand back.”
“I work here.”
“As I told this gentleman, no one can enter the building until—”
A familiar voice cut off the rest of his sentence. “Kate? Is that you?”
A petite and pretty woman with long, dark hair strode up to me. Detective Martinez. I’d met Martinez the night of my friend George’s murder. She’d also investigated the stabbing death of Nicole’s stepfather. Nicole’s instincts had been right. If Martinez was on site, the police suspected murder.
“I should probably say I’m surprised to see you,” Martinez said, “but I’m not. I’m beginning to think you’re a murder scene groupie. I catch myself looking for you sometimes.”
