by Pamela Tracy
“Were the other kids questioned? Could any of them have taken the coins?”
“The police didn’t seem to think so.”
“How about the dad who left?”
Joe smiled. “Maybe you should have been a cop. You ask just as many questions.”
“I make more than cops.”
“Cleaning houses?”
“Yes, but their retirement is better. Now, how about the other dad?”
“Cliff Whittaker left before the coins went missing. His son Billy went home with him. They had nothing to do with it.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, and the cops seemed pretty sure, too.”
Annie’s cell beeped. While she took the call, he cleaned up the trash left from the popcorn. Jacko roused from sleep and followed Joe, herding him back out to the porch.
Joe hadn’t talked about the missing coins for years.
When he headed back to the porch, he couldn’t help but overhear Annie telling someone, “You don’t need to come. I have everything under control.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when his aunt came walking up the path.
“Tell Willa I’m leaving the front door unlocked and to be sure and lock it.”
Joe frowned. “I thought Mrs. Jamison was at your house.”
“No, she’s been gone all day. I thought she was here.”
“Maybe she went with your dad to the elders and deacons meeting,” Annie suggested.
“Not a chance.” Joe took out his cell. “There’d be nothing for her to do but sit in a room and wait. She’d not be able to attend the meeting.” Quickly, he dialed a number. After a moment, he cut it off. “Dad’s not answering.” He punched in another number. When a groggy voice answered, Joe said, “Hey Agnes, Frank home?”
Agnes turned the phone over to her husband, and Joe quickly asked, “Was my dad at the meeting tonight?”
When Frank said, “No,” Joe felt his heart stop. He asked Frank a few more questions, but Frank hadn’t seen Max at all. In Frank’s words, “Since Willa arrived, he’s been keeping busy.”
Aunt Margaret came up on the porch. “I figured all this time she was with Max.”
Joe told Frank he’d keep in touch, hung up the phone, and turned to Annie. “What time did they leave for the farmer’s market?”
“Early this morning, about eight.”
“I thought they were home,” Aunt Margaret repeated. “When I heard you drive up, I thought the second car was Max’s. It never occurred to me it was Annie’s.”
Fourteen hours, they’d been gone fourteen hours. Joe didn’t know about Annie’s mom, but his father was the type to call and let a body know, especially a body like Aunt Margaret who lived next door and expected them home hours ago.
Chapter Nine
It was just plain bad luck that Beth had been on the phone right when Annie realized their mother was missing.
“I’m flying out, call the police.” Beth made plans and issued orders.
“We’re not sure anything is wrong. They drove to the next town for some farmer’s market. Maybe they ran into one of Max’s friends.”
“Mom would have called.”
“Mom’s falling down a bit on the keep-in-touch responsibilities,” Annie argued. “Let me try to get a hold of her before you do anything rash. They might have had car trouble. Give me an hour, and I’ll call you. If there’s a problem, you can make plans to fly out and I’ll have already called the police.”
Margaret was pacing, her hands moving from clenched fists to flutters, to running through her hair, each action taking only a matter of moments before spurring the next. Jacko, excited, followed her. “This isn’t like Max. Maybe you should call the police.”
“I’m trying Dad again.” Joe hit a button on his phone. Annie did the same. Her mother’s phone rang and rang; no one answered. Someday, someone needed to invent a cell phone that was always charged.
Joe pushed a button and glanced at Annie. “No one answered. And believe me, once a minister, always a minister. My dad answers his phone.”
Her mouth went dry. “Not my mother. She’s the queen of forgetting to charge her phone. She’s just in the last year gotten used to us texting her. Margaret’s right, maybe you should call the police. Even if they can’t do anything, it will let them know what we’re concerned about and what we’re doing.”
“Then we better decide what we’re doing,” Joe said. “I’ll be tracing my dad’s movements, trying to find them, starting with the farmer’s market.”
“Was it an all-day event?”
“No, the farmer’s market ended at noon, but it’s put on by the Basehor Historical Museum Society. Dad knows all the people who work there. Chances are he took your mom through the museum and to some of the other historic sites. He thinks he knows more about De Soto than the volunteers.”
“That’s still not all day,” Annie protested.
“With anyone but my dad, you’d be right. But put him next to an antique fire engine or a bunch of handmade farm tools, and you have a history buff willing to share everything. Even more, if he found someone who needed to hear the Word, he’d sit down and talk all day and night. What about your mother? What kind of things does she like to do?”
Annie thought hard. Everything that came to mind was lame. “She goes to the grocery store a lot because she likes to cook? She’s artistic, but she stopped painting just after she married my dad. Sometimes she joins exercise groups. She loves antique shopping.”
The expression on Joe’s face told Annie what she already knew.
She wasn’t helping.
“Max would never forget the elders and deacons meeting,” Margaret said.
“That’s the worrisome part,” Joe agreed.
“Let’s get going,” Annie suggested. “If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”
“I’ll stay here in case Max shows up,” said Margaret.
Annie quickly wrote down her cell phone number for Margaret and then followed Joe to his truck. He’d called another man, who also hadn’t seen Max all day. Annie listened while Joe listed a few places Max and her mother might be. Soon, it sounded like Joe had Bonner Springs covered, leaving Annie and him free to head to De Soto. He even managed to squeeze in a call to the sheriff, to get and give an update. The sheriff had no new news. Finally, Joe was ready to go.
“Got a flashlight in—”
“Always,” Joe interrupted.
“Food and water?”
“That’s a good idea.” Even though he was almost to the car, Joe pivoted, went back inside his dad’s house, and after just a moment returned with a grocery sack. “I have four bottled waters and some granola bars. You’re thinking they broke down somewhere?”
“I’m hoping that’s the worst-case scenario.”
He opened the truck door. Jacko jumped onto the seat, settled in the middle, and even scooted over a bit to make room for Annie.
“Have you ever been to this farmer’s market?” Annie asked.
Joe started the truck. “Yes, but it’s been awhile.” He started to back out but only made it a few blocks before a Volkswagen Beetle pulled up directly behind him and a woman frantically waved for him to stop. Joe stuck his head out the window and said, “Have you heard from my dad?”
It was Carolyn Mayhew. She jumped from her car, sheltering something in her arms, and hurried toward Joe. “No, no, it’s something else.”
“Sorry, Carolyn, I’m on my way to De Soto, looking for my dad. If it’s one of your animals, I’ll have to take care of it later.”
“It’s not any of my pets,” Carolyn shrilled. Annie watched as the woman who’d picked her up just two mornings ago hustled Joe’s way, and she could see that Carolyn was carrying a shoe box that she promptly tried to hand over to him. “Rambo brought home this kitten. It’s clearly just a few weeks old and I can’t—”
“You’ll have to watch it until I find my dad,” Joe said. “I’ll stop by your plac
e the minute I know something.”
“Your dad’s missing? I didn’t know.” Carolyn looked perplexed, but that quickly turned to both thoughtful and determined. “Well, Max has never been one to get lost. I’m sure you’ll find him safe and sound. In the meantime, you’ve got to take the kitten because I can’t sleep with worrying. Rambo won’t leave this precious thing alone. He might accidentally kill it.”
Without further discussion, Carolyn shoved the box at Joe, headed back to her car, and backed out.
Joe didn’t hesitate. He handed Annie the box, hit the gas, and they were on their way.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Annie asked. Jacko sniffed at the tiny yellow kitten and then looked at Joe as if he had the same question.
Joe didn’t slow down but said, “If we have a chance, we’ll stop and get it some yogurt or baby formula or something. You’ll have to feed it every three hours or so.”
“Baby formula or yogurt? Why not milk?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s hydrated, but I’m not taking the chance. Cow’s milk, at best, will upset its stomach. At worst, well, let’s just say I don’t want to be dealing with what that baby’s bowels might do just now. Look in the backseat in the brown bag. I know I have an eyedropper. You’ll need it after we stop.”
“Me? I don’t know how to take care of anything this young and vulnerable.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
For the next half hour, they drove with the radio off, neither talking. Finally Joe turned the music on, so low the words couldn’t be heard, but loud enough for the faint echoes of a melody. Annie and Jacko took turns studying the sleeping kitten, who didn’t seem concerned about his orphan state.
Finally, Jacko decided to ignore the intruder. Annie was afraid to let go of the box. She held it tightly while she rolled down her window and watched for any sign of the unusual.
This was exactly like the night she arrived: the curving roads, the giant shadows of cornstalks marching in the wind, the gray-black night. Every once in a while Joe’s phone sounded and Annie heard his worried voice. So far, there was no sign of their parents in Bonner Springs. It also seemed the sheriff had put a call in to his contemporaries in De Soto, and their police had a cruiser out looking. After he hung up from each call, Joe muttered to himself. Annie doubted he even realized he was doing it.
“Does your dad have any health problems?” she finally asked.
“Not really. He complains about his knees.”
“Has he been in many accidents?”
“He’s never even had a ticket.” This time, Joe’s voice sounded tight. Annie stopped asking questions and busied herself with the kitten.
Next to her, Joe leaned forward, gripping the steering wheel. Every once in a while, Annie noticed his lips moving. Finally, she had to ask. “Talking to yourself?”
“No, praying.”
Annie didn’t know how to respond. Praying was so obviously the thing to be doing, so why hadn’t she been doing it?
Closing her eyes, she sought for words, but only two echoed over and over in her mind: Please. Help.
When had praying become so difficult?
They made it to De Soto and slowly drove around before stopping at the police station and learning nothing new. Yes, the officers were aware and yes, they were looking.
“Your dad have dementia?” the man on duty asked. “Because if he does, we can issue a Silver Alert. That might speed things up.”
The question only intensified Joe’s black mood. For the first hour, they drove through town looking at the cars parked on streets with names like Lexington Avenue and Sunflower Road.
Sunflower Road? From the start of Mom’s adventure, the sunflower seemed destined to make an appearance. Most businesses were closed, and the few times Joe stopped, Annie busied herself by showing her mom’s photo after checking ladies’ restrooms.
“Yes, I’ve seen her,” one clerk said as Joe paid way too much for a small tub of yogurt. “It was this afternoon. Maybe around four. She was all happy about some produce she’d purchased.”
That was Mom, all right. She never thought the produce back in Tucson tasted like it should. She’d be all excited about what Kansas had to offer, even in May.
“At least now we know they made it to the market,” Annie said.
The news provided a much-needed mood lifting. Annie called Beth, who still thought she should come. Joe called Sheriff Webber, who was now also out searching. So far each phone call, whether to a friend back in Bonner Springs or to the police, came back with the same message: Max and Annie’s mom were still missing.
The night grew darker. Turning on the overhead light, Annie carefully dipped the eyedropper into the yogurt and drew it up. Jacko wanted to watch and managed to help her get more on her pant leg than in the eyedropper.
“What do I do?”
“Hold him on his back gently and nudge his mouth open. He’ll take it from there.”
“How do you know it’s a he?”
“I don’t at the moment. We’ll just assume.”
“You assume a lot of things,” Annie grudged.
“Right now I’m assuming Dad left the main road.” Joe drove through the empty field that hosted the farmers’ market for the third time. He headed for the outskirts of town. “Otherwise, we’d have seen him.”
“Are there any scenic destinations or landmarks around?”
“You know, there’s the farm, our farm, as a matter of fact. It’s in Sunflower, the town that is no more, the one you were so curious about the day you arrived. There’s nothing there but a broken-down house. Still, it’s worth a try.”
It seemed that with each mile, the night got blacker and so did Joe’s mood. Finally, Joe spoke, his words biting. “How many times has your mom disappeared?”
“What?”
“Well, you came out here to find her because she disappeared. Has it happened before? How often do you go out looking for her?”
“This is the first time. This has never happened, ever, not until she and her friends formed this company.”
“Could she have talked my dad into taking her someplace else?”
“Like where? She doesn’t know anything about Kansas. This is her first visit.”
He exhaled, then leaned forward and slowed down. “There’s someone on the road.”
Annie saw the figure now, waving, and even from a distance she recognized her mother. Fear had been constant since Margaret first alerted her of Mom’s failure to return. Now, the tears started.
Joe pulled over to the side of the road. “Hey, hey,” he said gently. “Why are you crying now? We’ve found them.”
Mom ran toward them. “What took you so long? Come on, hurry.” She climbed in, scooting Annie over, and said, “It’s straight ahead a ways. Then turn right.”
“Why didn’t you call?” Joe said, following her directions and glancing at Annie. She felt the tears sliding down her cheeks. “And where’s my father? Is he at our property? What’s wrong?”
Her mom was too out of breath to say much. She just nodded, put her arm around Annie, and said, “Yes, the farm. We’re all right. Really, everything will be fine. We just had a bit of an accident.”
Joe knew right where to go. After a moment Annie could see, thanks to the truck’s headlights, where Max’s car had left the street, but she couldn’t see the car. Hurrying behind Joe and her mother, she tripped once, righted herself, and caught up with them. The car wasn’t visible from the road. It looked like Max had been aiming for the tall grass but instead had gone into a ditch. The front of the car had almost made it across. The back hadn’t.
“There was a cow in the road. Your dad started to go around it and here came a calf. Next thing we know we’re off the road, and then Max accidentally hit the gas instead of the brake.”
Joe carefully picked his way into the ditch and opened the driver’s side door. “You all right?” he asked.
“Fine, I’ll be
fine,” came Max’s voice.
“No,” her mom said. “He’s not all right. We didn’t realize that we were over a ditch. He opened the door and fell out. I think he broke his leg. It took us forever to get him out of the water and mud and back into the car.”
“Why didn’t you call?” Joe repeated.
“It’s not important,” Max protested. He sounded like he was in pain. “You’re here now.”
“His phone went into the ditch and landed in water. By the time I found it, it no longer worked.” Mom hovered by Joe’s side. “My phone’s battery died earlier today.”
Joe turned to Annie. “I left my phone in the car. I have the sheriff and Frank both on speed dial, plus they’d be the last calls I made. See if you can get a hold of them and tell them what’s happening.”
Annie headed back to Joe’s truck and did as she was told, guessing that the hospital would be their next destination. Then she hurried back to Joe and watched as he reached up to his father. She couldn’t hear his words, but she caught the tone. He spoke to Max the way he did to Agnes Miller and her cat. Calm and reassuring.
She moved past her mother so she could crowd next to Joe.
“Did you take off your shoe?” he asked.
Max shook his head, his expression half-pained, half-pleased. “No, Willa wouldn’t let me.”
“Smart woman. Is your ankle the only thing that hurts?”
“A few hours ago I’d have said yes, but right now the whole leg hurts.”
“Can you put weight on it?”
“Do we need an ambulance?” Annie asked. “Should I call 911?”
“City girl,” Joe chided, looking at her hard, glad the tears were gone. “There’s no 911 out here.”
“No ambulance, either,” Max said. “The nearest hospital is in Kansas City, Missouri. It would cost too much.”
“Worth it,” Joe responded.
“Not for over forty miles. Just get me to your truck. I can put some weight on it, I think.”
Joe spent the next half hour binding his dad’s ankle and scrounging for items to help Max climb from the car to the side of the ditch without stepping in water and mud. Annie’s job was covering the mud with the tarp from Joe’s truck.
