by Patricia Fry
Adam glanced at Marissa. “Well, he tried to run away when we were walking through that dead orchard.”
“It’s not dead, silly,” Marissa said, giggling. “It’s winter and the trees are bare.”
“Well, anyway,” Adam continued, “he wanted to go one way and we wanted to go the other. So we had a tug-of-war, but I won.”
“Good for you,” Michael said. “You have to show him who’s boss.”
Marissa began to giggle again.
“What’s so funny, Miss Marissa?” Savannah asked.
“Rags is still boss.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Adam had to pick Rags up to make him come with us. When he got too heavy to carry, we started dropping treats along the path for him so he’d keep following us.”
“Hey, with that cat, whatever it takes,” Michael said.
“So where did he want to go?” Savannah asked.
“To an old shack,” Adam said.
“It’s a tool shed for the orchard people,” Marissa explained. “He kept pulling and pulling in that direction. Adam wanted to go with Rags.” She became more serious. “But us kids aren’t allowed near it. I made Adam and Rags turn around.”
Savannah ran her hand over Marissa’s dark hair and smiled. “Good girl.”
“Yeah, there’s toxic things in there—you know, for fumigation and to run the motors for working around the trees, and things like that. And also sharp things.”
“How do you know?” Adam asked. “Did you go in there and look?”
“No. That’s what my grandpa said. He wanted me to know it wasn’t a safe place to explore.” Suddenly Marissa pointed and said excitedly, “There’s one of the cats. We don’t see them during the day hardly ever.” She became sullen. “Someone’s been taking their food at night and they’re probably hungry.”
“Who?” Adam asked.
“I don’t know. I can just tell it isn’t the cats because the dishes are moved around and scraped clean. The cats don’t usually do that.”
“So you’re feeding feral cats?” Savannah asked.
Marissa nodded. “Wild ones—they’re homeless.”
Adam looked around. “Could it be a wolf, maybe?”
“No, they’re cats,” Marissa said.
Adam giggled. “I mean that’s eating their food.”
“Or a raccoon,” Michael suggested.
Marissa shrugged.
“Have you tried getting up at night to see what it is?” Adam asked. His eyes growing larger, he suggested, “Hey, maybe we could stay out here tonight and spy on them.”
“In the winter?” Marissa screeched. “I don’t think so. You can see how cold it is out here now, and this is a nice day. At night everything ices over and sometimes it snows.”
“What about checking for footprints?” Michael asked.
“Hey, yeah,” Adam said. “We could clear off the snow and look for footprints in the morning.”
“Unless it snows on top of the prints,” Marissa said. Her face brightened. “But we could try it.”
“What’s that you have there?” Michael asked when he saw his son looking at something in his hand.
“This?” he asked, holding it up. “It’s a dog tag—you know, for a dog. Rags found it. Marissa and I thought we heard a dog, but we didn’t see one anywhere.”
“So you didn’t see a dog?”
“No. That’s when Rags started pulling me toward that shed, so we left.”
“Yoo-hoo! Marissa, honey,” Mabel called, “it’s time to get ready for your party. Your friends will be here soon.”
“You’re having a party?” Adam asked.
“Yeah, want to stay?”
“Sure do. Are we staying, Dad?”
“I think that’s the plan. Come on, we’ll race you back to the house.”
“Okay!” Adam agreed.
Marissa said cheerfully, “Not me. I’m walking good, but I can’t run very fast yet.”
Savannah put her arm across the girl’s shoulders. “Me neither. Come on, walk with me.”
The couple and the children had returned to the house and removed their jackets when Savannah heard a new voice. “Erin, hi!” she greeted enthusiastically. “So good to see you. You look wonderful.”
Erin stepped back from their warm embrace, smiling. “I think it’s the stress.”
“Stress?” Savannah questioned.
“Yeah, the stress Rissy and I lived with when we were in foster care with those awful people. It’s gone.” She looked across the room lovingly at Mabel. “I finally feel like a real part of a real family. Rissy and I are super happy here and I love my job at the bookstore. They made me a manager in the children’s department, can you believe it?”
“That’s wonderful, Erin. What about your schooling?”
“Oh, I’m still taking classes.” She grinned widely. “I’ve decided to study business management. I figure I would have lots of options in life if I knew how to start and run a business.”
“Cool. What sort of business are you interested in?”
“That, I don’t know yet. Maybe an art studio or a consignment shop or a catering company.” She glanced in Mabel’s direction. “Grandma Mabel is teaching me a lot about cooking and serving.” She spun around excitedly and said, “All I know for sure is that I can do whatever I decide I want to do.”
“Oh, honey, I’m so proud of you,” Savannah said, hugging her again.
Erin glanced across the room. “Hey, I’d better go help Grandpa Roland with the prizes. He and I are in charge of the games.” She started to turn away, then asked, “You’re staying, aren’t you?”
Savannah nodded. “We’ll be here for a couple of days.”
“Awesome,” Erin said before scampering away.
****
Later that afternoon after most of the guests had left, Savannah overheard Mabel ask a neighbor who had brought her child to the party, “So, Florence, they still haven’t found her?”
Florence said, “No. Her mother is frantic and of course all the neighbors are frightened to think someone might be taking children.”
“They haven’t found the dog, either, have they?” Mabel asked.
“Not that I know of,” Florence said. “That’s really odd that someone would take a child and a dog.” She hesitated before saying, “It makes me wonder if maybe they fell down a well or something.”
Mabel frowned. “I hear that authorities fear they were swept away by the river a few nights ago after all that rain. It was running awfully fast for a few days. But so far they haven’t found a trace.”
“Awful, just awful.”
“I read about that in the newspaper this morning,” Craig said upon overhearing the conversation. “The missing child is from this neighborhood?”
“Across the way on the other side of the orchard,” Mabel said. “Her older sister is in Marissa’s class. That dog is her constant companion. She loves the dog like Marissa loves Angel and Rags.”
The conversation made Savannah think of something. “You know, today the kids were out back and they found a dog tag.” She chuckled. “Well, I guess Rags actually found it. I wonder if it could belong to the missing dog.”
“Even if it does, I don’t think it would prove anything because all of the children around here seem to bring their dogs when they come to play.” Mabel asked, “Where, exactly, did they find the dog tag?”
Savannah shrugged. When she saw Adam come into the room, she called him over. “Where did you say Rags found that dog tag?”
The boy glanced at the adults briefly. “In the orchard kinda near that toxic shed.” He looked up at Mabel. “Rags dragged me over that way and that’s when he found it. I picked him up and brought him back to your yard.”
“Let me see it; do you have it with you?” Craig asked.
Adam nodded and pulled it out of his pocket.
Craig looked
it over. “It wouldn’t hurt to check it out and see who it’s registered to.”
Savannah laughed. “Always in detective mode, aren’t you, Craig?”
He looked at her, then pulled his phone out of his pocket. After making a call, Craig noticed Roland heading in his direction. “Hey, does the name Hill ring a bell with you?”
Roland shook his head. “No, why?”
When Mabel overheard this, she said, “Wait, that’s the missing girl’s name, isn’t it?”
“Is it?” Roland asked. “I don’t know.”
Mabel nodded. “Yes, the children go by Hill in school, as I recall. Their mother’s remarried to a man named Wray.” She looked at Craig. “So the dog must still be registered to the child’s father?”
“Why does it matter what their name is?” Roland asked.
Craig explained, “Well, the kids found this dog tag in the orchard today, and it seems a little disturbing that it could belong to the dog that’s with the missing girl, that’s all.”
“Even so,” Roland said, “what would that prove? Those kids run around out in that orchard with the dog all the time. He could have lost the tag before they disappeared.”
After contemplating Roland’s logic for a moment, Craig said quietly, “It’s logical thinking that can sometimes hamper the solution to a case.”
“What’s that, Craig?” Roland asked.
“I’m just saying that it’s important to consider everything a potential clue.” He squinted in the direction of where Rags lay in the living room. “And that cat there has a sorta knack for uncovering significant clues.” He looked around at the others. “I say we should search the orchard. Would the owner give us permission?”
“Gosh, they had a bunch of people out there searching a couple of days ago,” Florence said. “You’d think if the child were there, they’d have found her.”
Craig stared down at the dog tag. “They didn’t find this.” He glanced at the Roberts. “How can I get in touch with the owner of the orchard?”
“They’re out-of-state owners and the manager lives across town,” Roland explained. “He’s drunk half the time. I’d say we’d be safe to just go out there on our own.”
Craig looked out the window. “Well, it’s getting dark. Shall we plan an early-morning search?”
“Sure.”
“What’s the weather forecast for tonight?” Michael asked when he approached with Lily in his arms.
Roland chuckled. “Cold, at least compared to your California weather.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t think they expect snow, though.”
“Good,” Michael said. He addressed Adam, “Hey, ask Marissa if she wants to set a trap to find out who’s eating her orchard cats’ food.”
“Yes!” Marissa said, joining the others after she’d ushered out one of her school friends.
About thirty minutes later Adam and Marissa raced in through the back door with Michael. Craig and Roland tagged along behind. “Craig showed us how to make a trap,” Adam announced excitedly.
Marissa nodded. “Yeah, tomorrow we’ll know who it is that’s eating our orchard kitties’ food.” She turned to her grandmother. “Can Adam stay all night so we can get up early and check our trap?”
“Goodness, child,” Mabel said, “you’re not really going to try trapping a wolf or a possum, are you?”
Marissa laughed. “No, Gramma. We just want to identify the thief—you know, from his footprints.”
“Whew!” Mabel said. “I was worried there for a minute.”
Marissa laughed again, then asked, “Can he, huh?”
“Well, sure, if it’s okay with his folks.” Mabel looked to Michael and Savannah for their input.
“He doesn’t have his pajamas or toothbrush,” Savannah noted.
“No problem,” Mabel said, smiling. “We have plenty of room, extra toothbrushes, and Marissa has lots of pairs of sweats and t-shirts. They could serve as pajamas, don’t you think so?”
Michael looked at Adam. “What do you think, Son?”
“Yeah, Dad, I want to stay.” He looked concerned for a moment and asked, “You’re coming back tomorrow, aren’t you?”
Michael chuckled. “Of course we are.”
“Yes, everyone’s coming for a farm-style breakfast in the morning,” Roland said.
“Yay!” both Adam and Marissa shouted as they trotted off toward the bedrooms.
****
When everyone arrived at the Roberts’s the following morning, the children eagerly greeted Michael and Craig.
“We didn’t go out there yet,” Marissa said. “We waited for you. We only looked from the window.”
“Yeah,” Adam said, “we saw some footprints.”
“Good morning to you, too,” Michael said, tongue in cheek, while lowering Lily to the floor and taking off her jacket.
“Hi, Dad,” the boy said, hugging him before running off with Marissa and Craig. “Come on Dad! Come see the footprints.”
Michael chuckled and joined the excited group in the backyard where they’d set their trap.
“Look, Dad,” Adam said, “someone ate the food again and the prints are too big to be from a cat.” He pointed. “See—it looks like a dog or a wolf or a coyote.”
“Well, junior spies, I’d bet on it being a mid-sized dog,” Michael surmised.
“Like Lexie’s size maybe?” Adam asked.
“Probably a little bigger than Lexie,” Michael said. “Possibly an Australian shepherd or Queensland.” He leaned closer to the prints and looked around the porch. “Probably a shepherd or some other furry dog. See where something rubbed against the railing here? He left a few hairs. Marissa, do you have a magnifying glass? We can examine the hairs and maybe determine what sort of dog dined here last night.”
“Yeah,” she said, heading for the house. When she returned, she asked, “What else did you find?”
Craig looked up from a crouch. “Looks to me like a child’s footprints. How old is the little girl who’s missing?”
“About seven. She’s small like me,” she said, “…only smaller because she’s younger.”
“Where does the family live?” he asked.
She pointed. “On the other side of the orchard.”
“How far is that?”
“I don’t know. It’s a big orchard. Takes me a long time to walk to her house.”
“Is she a friend of yours?”
“Her sister’s in my class and we play together sometimes.”
Craig sighed deeply. “Well, after breakfast, how about we take a walk? Are you kids up for that? We just might discover more clues that would help us find the little girl.”
Chapter 7
“Who’s going on the clue search?” Adam asked as he and Marissa slipped into their jackets after they’d enjoyed a hearty meal.
“I’ll go with you,” Michael said.
Craig picked up his jacket. “Good, I don’t like being responsible for your cat.”
Michael frowned. “Rags is going?”
Craig nodded. “I’d like to take him. If that child’s out there somewhere, he’ll lead us to her.”
When Michael hesitated, Savannah said, “You can bet on it. Yes hon, you need to take him.”
“Oh, Savannah,” he complained, “I just want to have a nice walk in the brisk air this morning…”
Savannah smirked playfully at her husband. “Quit your whining, Michael. Here, I’ll put his harness on him. Now, just let him lead you.”
“Brrrr, it’s cold around here, isn’t it?” Craig said, once they’d stepped outside. “How do you like the winter weather, Marissa?”
“Well, we have summertime too, and it’s really pretty in the spring and…oh…oh…oh, you should see the fall. So many colors. I think winter’s beautiful, too.” She looked up at him as they walked toward the orchard. “But you’re right, it does get cold.”
“Look, Dad,” Adam said, “M
arissa’s almost as tall as I am.”
“She sure is.” Michael asked her, “How does it feel to stand tall?”
“I love it.” She lowered her head and added, “I’m not a freak anymore.”
Craig reached out and pulled the girl to him, hugging her clumsily, then letting her go. He smiled down at her. “Well, I hope you aren’t too busy running around outside to write to me anymore.”
“Oh no, I won’t be. I love drawing and writing.”
“Why don’t you let Rags walk, Dad?” Adam asked, petting the cat’s head as Michael carried him.
“I don’t want him to get cold feet,” he quipped. “Anyway, he’s easier to manage this way.” When the kids looked at him inquisitively, he asked, “Ever see a map of a cat’s travels?”
“No,” they both said.
“Well, put a GPS on a cat and the map looks like a wad of cotton candy. The cat goes up and down and around, in circles, and back and forth. It’s like he’s high on catnip or something. We’ll get where we’re going faster if we carry him.”
“Then how’s he going to help us find Marissa’s friend?” Adam asked.
“Do you see any place where the girl could hide out around here?” Craig asked.
Adam shook his head.
Craig tousled the boy’s hair. “That’s right, junior sleuth. When we get near the shed Marissa told us about or in an area where visibility isn’t so keen, then we’ll need Rags’s help. For now, he’s just a sightseeing passenger.”
“Oh,” Marissa said, “that makes sense, doesn’t it, Adam?”
“I suppose so, as long as she isn’t hiding in one of those trees.”
Marissa laughed. “With a dog? That’s silly, Adam. Dogs don’t climb trees.”
“Uh-huh,” Adam insisted. “I saw a dog on the Internet once who climbed trees.”
Michael play-punched his son. “Yeah, that’s one—but it’s not common, is it?”
“Maybe her dog can climb trees,” he reasoned.
Marissa chuckled. “Well, I can tell you that Rusty can dig holes, he can chase balls, he can ride in a wagon, but I’ve never seen him climb a tree.”
“Maybe he does it only when no one’s looking,” Adam persisted.
