“You don’t get to decide, okay? Stay out of this.” Amber gets in the van and angrily backs out.
The drive to the cabin is tense and silent. Neither speaks for several miles. Bree stares angrily outside, her helmet still on.
“You okay?”
“You never let me do anything.”
“That’s not true. This is the only thing I don’t want you doing.”
“Why? Because it’s fun? I never have any fun, except when you’re not around.”
“That’s not fair.” Amber pulls up to a red light. “I’m doing my best here, Bree. I really am.”
“Dad would let me have a kart!”
“Well, Dad’s not here, is he?” Amber thumps her thumbs against the steering wheel, completely unprepared for Bree’s next remark
“I hate you! I wish you had died instead of Dad!”
The words slice into Amber, taking her breath away.
She turns to Bree, who is unbuckling her seat belt. “What are you doing?”
Bree grabs the door handle and launches out of the car, leaving the door wide-open.
“BREE!” The light turns green. The car behind her honks its horn. Bree runs a few feet ahead, then jerks in front of Amber’s van without looking. The car behind her lays on the horn again, and then veers out from behind her. Bree dashes across the street at the same time the driver accelerates on Amber’s left, heading straight for Bree crossing its path. Amber can see the inescapable collision coming.
“BREE! BREE!”
In the split second before Bree steps in his path, the driver sees Bree and slams on the brakes. Bree whooshes by, narrowly missing the car’s front bumper. Unfazed, she doesn’t even look back as she pounds across the street. Amber watches her disappear into the neighborhood as she fumbles to release her seat belt.
The driver yells a profanity at Amber and speeds away. Amber’s heart races, and she leaps from the van. She blinks back frightened tears. Where did Bree go?
chapter fifty-four
Matt’s Dead
FOR THE NEXT twenty minutes, Amber wildly traverses the streets in her van, searching for Bree. They are only blocks from the cabin, so after she has combed the neighborhood, Amber heads home, hoping Bree went there.
Storming through the front door, Amber immediately spots Bree’s helmet tossed aside on the floor. She’s here. Thank God!
“Bree? Bree! Where are you?” Amber dashes to the back and sees the door to their bedroom closed. She tries the knob. Locked.
“Bree. Open this door. Are you okay?” She bangs on the door. “Get out here right now.”
She listens. Silence. “Bree. Come on. You almost got hit back there. I need to know if you’re okay!”
More silence. Amber grows impatient, pacing in small steps in front of the door. She raps on it again, harder.
“Open this door right now, young lady!”
Nothing.
“I’m breaking the door, Bree. If you’re in there, get away from the door. Okay? On three.”
Amber steps back. “One. Two. Three!” She slams her body into the flimsy door. It splinters off its hinges and crashes to the floor. Amber bolts in.
A breeze whips the flimsy curtains in and out of a wide-open window. Matt isn’t on the sill. She looks to the floor. Dirt spilled everywhere. The once green little sprout is now a dried, brown corkscrew. Amber knows in this moment that Bree is gone.
“BREE!” She leans out the window, yelling into the world. Peering down, she can see little tennis-shoe prints leading away from the house and across the yard.
Amber rushes back out into the street, frantically searching for her daughter.
“BREE! BREE!” Her voice reaches hysterical levels as she circles her yard in random directions. Finally, collapsing in a heap on the front lawn, Amber reaches for her phone. It only rings twice on the other end before—
“Karena. I need you.”
chapter fifty-five
The Search
AMBER SITS UNDER a tent set up in the church parking lot to shelter her and the volunteer searchers from the steady rain pelting down. It’s been five hours now, and no Bree. Amber’s stomach, emptied by several rounds of vomiting, spasms in the void. Her tears have long since dried up, replaced by fright and a pounding headache. Flanking her with wool blankets are Karena and Bridgette, who nestle in close.
“You should go warm up inside,” says Karena. “I’m worried you’re getting sick.”
But Amber refuses with a deadened look. “If Bree is outside somewhere, then I’m going to suffer with her.”
“At least drink some tea.” Bridgette hands her a thermos. Amber tries to choke down a few sips.
After a minute, Rosie, Amber’s friends from the diner, and a good handful of church members circle around Amber. Nelson wheels from group to group, passing out flashlights. Cody and Joe diligently hand out water bottles. Pastor Williams steps into the tent holding a picture of Bree.
“Okay, everyone, as most of you know, we’re looking for this little girl.” He holds up the photograph. “Breeanne Hill. Or Bree, as we call her.”
At this, fresh tears start to flow down Amber’s cheeks. Bridgette squeezes her close.
“We’re going to start by canvassing the area in a five-mile radius from the Hills’ cabin. I want you to divide into groups of three to five. There are maps that outline which group is searching which quadrant. Talk to neighbors. Talk to anyone you see on the street. Ask to look in yards, sheds, barns, vehicles. Be nosy! Police have posted an Amber Alert. So make everyone you know aware of this. Okay? You’ve got your supplies. Flashlights. Hand warmers. Water bottles. Stay with your party. Keep in touch, and call in if you find anything. Anything! You can call the police number directly. Karena and I will also be here working the phones. Any questions?”
The group mumbles a collective no.
“Okay, pray as you search, people. We’re gonna bring our Bree home tonight!” Pastor Williams nods reassuringly to Amber. The groups move hastily to their vehicles, and a stream of headlights convoys out of the parking lot into the night.
Pastor Williams joins Amber, Karena, and Bridgette. He leads them in a prayer over Amber. But Amber doesn’t close her eyes. She just stares helplessly into the darkness as the rain picks up, cascading in sheets from the inky sky.
chapter fifty-six
Afraid to Know
FROM THE CORNER of the tent, Cody watches Amber, her pain so palpable that it actually makes his heart ache. He starts toward her. “Amber, I’m so sorry. We’re gonna find her. I promise.”
Amber slants her gaze to Cody, but no words form. Cody lingers, struggling to offer more, when Joe intervenes. “Don’t worry, hon. We’re going to find that little stinker. Got it?” He gives Amber a wink, and he’s sure for a second that her eyes believe him.
Joe grabs Cody, pulling him out of the tent. “You’ll do her more good looking for Bree. Let’s head out, okay?”
“Yeah. You’re right.” Cody steals a glance back at Amber, who has buried her head in the blanket. Just then, Nelson wheels up to him.
“Hey. I was wondering if I can hitch a ride with you guys. The legs aren’t much help right now, but my eyes are good,” he says with an eager smile.
“Yeah, man. Of course.”
“Why don’t you guys take Cody’s Firebird, and I’ll ramble behind in my truck. We can cover more ground that way,” Joe suggests, and he heads off to his old Ford pickup.
Cody leads Nelson to his Firebird and helps him into the passenger seat. They take off out of the parking lot and cruise slowly down the street, windows open. On high alert. Cody keeps his gaze bent for any signs of Bree as the rain splats through the open window. He doesn’t care how wet he gets. All that matters is getting Bree back.
After a few blocks, Cody tries to take the edge off. “I hear you were in Darren’s unit.”
Nelson scans the lawns, sidewalks, and trees in the same way he once scanned the buildings in Afghanistan
for insurgents. “Yeah. I was transferred there about a month before he was killed.”
“Did you know him well?”
“Better than most.” Cody detects painful memories lodged in his voice. “He saved my life.”
“Really. Wow!” Cody is hesitant to ask, but does anyway. “What happened?”
Nelson is silent. “Hey. Over there. I saw something move.”
“Where?” Cody slows.
“In the bushes by that house.”
Cody stops the car in the middle of the street. He and Nelson shine their flashlights in the direction of a mulberry bush alongside a house. He catches a glimpse of black fur as it slips between the slates of a white picket fence and disappears.
“Cat,” says Cody, flipping his light off. He continues on. “Does Amber know what happened with you and Darren?”
“I really doubt it. Every time I try to talk to her, she avoids me like the plague.”
“Maybe she’s afraid to know.”
“Seems like it,” says Nelson.
“Would it help her to know the truth?”
“I think it would. But she’s got to be ready to hear it.”
“But I mean, if you have the key to relieving some of this pain she’s going through, then . . .”
“Look, man. I’ve tried. Let’s focus on finding Bree. Okay?”
Cody nods. He gets it. He’s pushed too far, too fast. Nelson’s right. The best and only thing Amber needs right now is Bree.
chapter fifty-seven
Finding Out on Facebook
PATTI IS TUCKED serenely into her king-size bed between the folds of her thick comforter. She’s engrossed in a compelling novel propped up on a pillow on her lap. The first time her phone dings from the nightstand, Patti ignores it. But when the ding goes off four times in a row, she reaches over and checks. She is astounded to find that her in-box has exploded with messages. She clicks on the one from Kim first.
Kim: Any word yet?
Word about what? Patti follows the Facebook link Kim has attached. It’s from the Clarksville Community Church page.
Community Alert: Bree Hill, nine-year-old daughter of Amber Hill, disappeared this afternoon and has not returned home. Search parties being dispatched from Clarksville Community Church. Please pray for her safe and quick return. To volunteer to search, contact Karena Williams.
What? What’s happened to Bree? And why didn’t Amber call me?
Patti throws the covers off and jumps out of bed. She yanks on a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie while dialing Amber’s cell. Of course, it goes right to voice mail. Patti flies down the steps, not stopping to turn off any lights. She leaves the house unlocked and jumps into her car.
On the twenty-minute drive to the church, Patti makes calls to her key MyWay consultants. And one to Angela Brice.
She rolls into the empty church parking lot, immediately spying the tent and its four inhabitants bunched up together. Why on earth are they all not out searching for Bree?
Patti scuttles from her car as the wind and rain pick up. She bolts for the tent. “It’s kind of hard to find her if you’re not out looking.” Her eyes dart to Amber. She has that same traumatized look that she saw at the hospital after receiving the news about Darren.
Patti stays fixed on Amber as she looks to Karena.
“Miss Patti, glad you’re here,” says Karena, standing to welcome her. Pastor Williams joins Karena at her side.
“We’re doing everything we can to find your granddaughter,” says the pastor.
“Why is it that I had to find out from Facebook that my own granddaughter is missing?”
Bridgette looks at Amber, who stutters out an answer. “I’m sorry. I just . . . I didn’t think . . .”
“No, you didn’t.” Patti is unsuccessful in keeping calm.
“I’m sure it won’t be long before they bring her right back to us,” Pastor Williams says.
Patti breezes right over his comment, her focus still lasered on Amber. “Why did she run? What happened?”
“She was upset.”
“About what?”
“She was unhappy with me,” Amber says.
“What did you do to make her run?”
“What did I do? Why do you assume it was my fault?”
“She’s a good child. She wouldn’t run off for no reason,” Patti digs.
“She was mad! She was mad at me because I didn’t want her hanging around with Cody. There. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Patti can’t respond.
“Miss Patti. Won’t you sit with us and pray? We know this is upsetting, and prayer is the most effective thing we can do at the moment,” suggests the pastor.
“No. No, I won’t sit around. In fact, why are you all sitting around?” Patti glares at Amber.
“We were out earlier for about five hours,” explains Karena calmly. “Now we’re staffing the phones and assisting volunteers.”
“And praying,” adds Pastor Williams.
“Amber”—Patti holds her gaze on Amber—“stop feeling sorry for yourself and get out there. Do you hear me? Your daughter needs you.”
“Patti, I can’t do this right now,” Amber says.
“You can, but you won’t. Shameful! I have every MyWay associate and customer in three counties on the lookout.”
The flashing strobes of a police car capture everyone’s attention.
“That’s my ride. Officer Brice offered to take me out on a search. So that’s where I’ll be. I am asking you to please call me if anything comes up. Got it?” She locks eyes with Amber for a second. “I don’t want to find out any more news via Facebook.”
chapter fifty-eight
The One Place
AMBER STANDS UP on shaky legs as she watches Patti take off.
“She’s right. I’ve gotta head out to look. I can’t sit here any longer.”
“Amber, don’t let her get to you. You need to rest awhile,” says Karena.
“It’s okay.” Bridgette jumps to Amber’s side. “I’ll go with you.”
“There’s one place we haven’t looked. It’s just a short walk from here.” Bridgette nods and opens her umbrella for Amber as they dive out from under the tent and into the rain.
Bridgette and Amber briskly walk arm in arm several blocks down from the church toward a closed wrought iron gate.
“I don’t think we’re gonna fit through those bars,” says Bridgette. Amber grins.
“But Bree sure could have. She’s such a little wisp.”
“Look, we’re here. Lemme just try this.” Bridgette holds the flashlight on Amber as she wriggles the latch. After squeezing it with all her might, the latch snaps free. The gate releases, and the ten-foot iron entrance creaks open. Amber and Bridgette enter the Clarksville Cemetery.
Amber marches toward the section of military gravesites. “Bree? Breeanne Hill? Are you here?”
“Bree, honey! If you’re here, please come on out! It’s okay!” Bridgette calls.
“I’m not mad, baby! Please. Where are you?” The rain tapers to a fine mist. Amber slows to a hurried walk. Bridgette keeps up, closing the umbrella and panning the cemetery with her flashlight.
“Make sure we look inside those private mausoleums, too. Maybe she went in one to get out of the rain,” Bridgette says.
“Look at us. Traipsing through graves for my daughter. What have I done, Bridge? How did I get to this point?”
“Amber. Life happens and we all make choices we’re not proud of. What’s more important is what you choose to do now.”
They wind through the uniform white stones, scanning the area, passing within several feet of Darren’s grave. She’s been here only one other time. When Darren was laid to rest. Amber had planned to take Bree out of school that day. The memorial service had been held weeks before Darren’s body had been transported back to Clarksville, and Bree had been in attendance. The laying to rest was a formality when his body arrived. A ceremony. It would mean little to Br
ee. Only make her feel sad. Make her cry. Amber had been looking for any excuse not to put Bree through it. When she arrived at school to pick Bree up, she found her laughing and playing with her friends on the playground at recess. Carefree. Happy. Maybe it wasn’t right, but Amber couldn’t bring herself to tear Bree from her little solace. She left school and met Patti at the gravesite. Patti had vehemently disagreed with Amber’s decision. The incident marked the beginning of the great rift between them.
“Bree? Are you here?” Amber calls out as Bridgette searches the area with her flashlight in a 360 of the area. Listening. Watching. Waiting.
“I don’t see her. She’s not here,” Bridgette finally concludes.
“I just thought maybe . . . but . . . this is stupid.” Amber turns from Darren’s grave. “How would she know? I’ve never taken her here.” Amber’s despair and regret deepens. “What if we don’t . . . if we can’t find her? She’ll be out here all alone. Unprotected. Oh, Bridge, I can’t lose her!”
“No, no, no. Amber, don’t you talk like that.” Bridgette scoops up Amber by the arm. “Let’s keep looking.”
Amber trudges forward with Bridgette, clinging to her optimism with all her strength.
chapter fifty-nine
County Road 40
PATTI RIDES SHOTGUN with Officer Woody Brice, a calm but tough spirit with ten years on the Clarksville police force and a young family at home. His wife, Angela, is a faithful MyWay customer, and their daughter, Lily, is in Bree’s class. Patti knows how close to home this situation must hit him, and in this moment, she is grateful for that unspoken compassion.
“I figure since the search party is combing the neighborhoods, we should patrol the highway coming into town. If I were a kid running away, I wouldn’t try weaving through side streets. I’d just hightail it down the main road.”
“Sounds like you’ve had some experience in this area.”
“Just a little. Unfortunately. Seems like we get a couple of runaways a year. Thankfully, they always turn up. A friend’s house. A hunting shack. The park.”
God Bless the Broken Road Page 21
