Empty. All of Zoey’s things were gone.
Lucy sat down heavily on the bed. She pressed her hand to her head, feeling as if she had gone into shock. “Charlie? Charlie, come up here. She’s gone. She’s left. She’s run away. ...”
Charlie must have been curious and followed her, she realized. He appeared in the doorway seconds after her sad, desperate call. He stood in the doorway and looked around the room. She could see that he understood the scene in an instant. Or maybe he was just more willing to believe that Zoey would do such a thing.
“Looks like she’s taken off,” he said. “Any note?”
“I didn’t see one. But I wasn’t really looking.” She rose and searched the room again. But there was nothing.
“She told me she was tired and didn’t feel like bowling. So I just let her stay home. I never suspected a thing. Honest, Lucy.”
Did Charlie think she would blame him for Zoey disappearing? She didn’t blame him. Not for leaving Zoey home alone this afternoon. “I would have done the same thing,” she told him. “But are you sure she didn’t mention anything? Do you think that boy got to her somehow?”
“I don’t see how. He’s not out on bail. Unless he called her and scared her? Are they allowed to have phone calls?”
Lucy shook her head. “I don’t know. We should have been more careful. Zoey was terrified of having to testify against him. That was the thing.” She glanced at her watch. “I wonder when she left. What time did you leave for the bowling alley?”
“Oh, I guess it was about four o’clock by the time we got going.”
“She’s had almost six hours. We’d better call the police and Rita Schuman. We’d better get out there and start looking. Maybe we can find her.” Lucy felt a sudden spurt of energy and headed downstairs again.
In the kitchen, the boys sat at the kitchen table, drinking glasses of iced tea and helping themselves to the pizza. “Where’s Zoey? Is she sick again?” C.J. asked.
Lucy stopped in her tracks. It was hard to tell them. “It looks like Zoey has left,” Lucy said. “Your dad and I are going to call the police. Then we’re going out to look for her.”
“She left? Why did she leave? You mean, like forever?” Jamie seemed very upset.
Lucy walked over and rested her hand on his shoulder. “I know it’s hard to understand, honey. But Zoey wasn’t really running away from us. She’s afraid of someone she used to know. She’s afraid he might hurt her and we can’t protect her. But we can. She just has to trust us.”
“Can I come with you to look for her?” Jamie asked. “We should take pictures of her with us,” he added. “To show people.”
“Yes, we should. Great idea, Jamie.” Lucy knew she would have thought of that if she hadn’t been so unnerved and upset. “I think I printed out a few from Christmas Day. Go look on my desk.”
“I want to go, too. I know where kids hang out. I could really help you,” C.J. said.
“Yes, you could,” Charlie agreed. He had just walked into the kitchen and looked at Lucy, as if waiting for instructions.
“Why don’t you call Tucker and I’ll start off,” she said. “Jamie can come with me and then you can go out with C.J. I’ll look around town first, then go to the bus and train stations in Essex and Hamilton. Or the mall.”
The task suddenly seemed overwhelming. Where should she look? Where would Zoey go? She could have hitched a ride and be up in Maine by now. Was searching for her a futile effort?
Lucy wondered if Charlie was going to say just that. But he didn’t. He looked surprisingly upset and concerned. “Okay. Let’s keep in touch by cell phone.”
Jamie returned with two photos of Zoey, taken on Christmas Day. She looked so pretty and happy, Lucy thought. She didn’t look like a girl who wanted to run away. Why did she do that, when things were going so well for her here?
Charlie took a photo, then leaned over and gave Lucy a kiss on the cheek. “Drive carefully. It is New Year’s Eve,” he reminded her.
“Yes, it is,” Lucy replied, pulling out her car keys. Some way to start the New Year. Lucy and Jamie jumped in Lucy’s car and headed back to the village. Lucy realized that she had never called Rita Schuman and quickly pulled out her cell phone. She had Jamie dial the number and then used her handless headset to talk.
“Rita, I’m sorry to bother you. But I came home a little while ago from work and it looks like Zoey has . . . has . . . left us. All her belongings are gone.” Lucy found it hard to say the words; her throat felt as if it were closing up.
“Oh dear, that is bad news. When do you think she left the house? Do you have any idea?”
Lucy explained how Zoey was supposed to go bowling but decided to stay home at the last minute. “Charlie left the house a little past four and I came home just before nine. So she’s had a few hours’ jump on us,” Lucy said sadly. “Charlie’s called the local police, and we’re giving them pictures.”
“Did she have much money with her?” Rita asked.
“She has some—money she earned at the diner. I’m not sure how much. But she spent a lot on Christmas gifts and clothes for herself.”
“Okay. Sounds like she doesn’t have a lot of funds—not enough to buy a plane ticket somewhere.”
Lucy hadn’t even considered a plane ticket. That was yet another worry. “Oh, I feel so awful,” she confessed. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“It’s not your fault, Lucy. Zoey has done this before. This is her way of coping with problems. She’s scared about testifying against Kurt Schmitt. This was the only solution she could come up with.”
“I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to her.”
“I think she’ll be all right. I think we’ll find her,” Rita said, her tone reassuring. “I’ll call you in a few hours and, of course, you’ll call me with any news.”
“Of course I will,” Lucy promised before ending the call.
She had almost forgotten that Jamie was with her, sitting beside her in the front seat. He stared at her in the darkness, looking worried and unhappy. “What did Mrs. Schuman say?”
“She thinks Zoey will be all right and that we’ll find her,” she said, repeating the caseworker’s assurances—though Lucy herself didn’t entirely believe them.
“Maybe if we had really adopted Zoey, she wouldn’t have been so scared and she wouldn’t have run away,” Jamie said.
Lucy felt a lump in her throat. “I don’t know, Jamie. Maybe,” she said quietly.
She’d had the same thought ever since discovering Zoey was gone. But she hadn’t found the courage to say it out loud.
JUST BEFORE MIDNIGHT, DOUG AND SAMANTHA CARVER STOOD BY THE musicians, Tina and Brian beside them. Doug took the microphone. “I’ve been told it’s just about time to ring out the old and ring in the new,” he began. “On behalf of our family, I want to thank you all for coming tonight and helping us celebrate Tina and Brian’s engagement. We wish you all a wonderful New Year, full of health, happiness, and every blessing.” He glanced at the mantel clock. “It’s time. Everybody count with me. Ten . . . nine . . . eight ...”
Nathan and Betty had been dancing, and now stood side by side, counting aloud together. Nathan took her hand when they hit “five.” At “three” he turned to face her and gazed straight into her eyes with a smile. At “two” his smile widened.
Betty smiled back and held her breath. They both shouted “One!” with the rest of the guests and then, “Happy New Year!” Nathan put his arms around her and whispered the words again.
“Happy New Year, Betty,” he said right before he kissed her.
She held him close, closed her eyes and kissed him back. A deep, sweet kiss that carried her away on a wave of pure emotion. For a moment she lost all sense of time and place. Even the racket of noisemakers tooting and rattling all around them and the band playing “Auld Lang Syne” above the fray was totally silenced for a brief, magical moment.
They parted a bit, though N
athan still held her in a loose embrace. Betty felt a little stunned and breathless, but blissfully happy.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“Couldn’t be better,” she promised with a smile. “How about you?”
“I couldn’t be better either,” he replied. “Thank you for inviting me to come here with you, Betty. You asked me to do you a favor by being your date. But it seems, once again, it’s gotten all turned around and you’ve done something wonderful for me.”
“Made you break down and buy a real suit, you mean? You would have gotten around to that sooner or later,” she teased him.
“Possibly. But I didn’t mean that. You pulled me out of my cave of gloom. The very last thing I wanted to do tonight was come to this party. I just didn’t think I could do it. But every time I pictured you waiting to see if I’d show up . . . well, I couldn’t let you down.” He reached up and cupped her cheek with his hand. “I knew the minute I met you that you were someone very special. Someone who could change my life. You know, even Santa has a wish list. And you’re the answer to all of my wishes . . . and all my prayers.”
Betty felt a catch in her throat. “I knew you were special, too,” she told him, “from the first moment I saw you. It just took me a while to see that you were the one. If ever I had to describe the man who would be right for me, I couldn’t have invented you—freelance writer and professional Santa. But that’s the way it works sometimes. You just never know, do you?”
“No, you don’t. But I know one thing for sure. Now that I’ve found you, you won’t get away from me easily.” He held her close again, and Betty closed her eyes, laughing softly.
As if she would ever want to be with anyone else, ever. She couldn’t imagine it now. The New Year had started—her fiftieth—along with a new and unexpected chapter in her life, she realized. One that looked to be the happiest she’d had in a long time.
LUCY PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY OF HER HOUSE AT HALF PAST ONE IN the morning. Jamie was asleep in the passenger seat next to her. She gently shook his shoulder. “We’re home, honey. Time to go inside.”
He opened his eyes and blinked, then got out of the car without saying a word. At one point, he’d gotten so despondent, the truth of the situation finally hitting home to him, that he had burst out crying. Lucy had started crying, too. She just felt so heartsick.
The house was dark but the light over the front door was still on. Charlie’s truck was parked at the top of the driveway, and she wondered when he and C.J. had given up and come home. When they went inside, Jamie went straight upstairs. Lucy went back to the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea. She was exhausted but wound up and wasn’t sure she could sleep.
She was sitting at the table, sipping her tea, when Charlie came in, wearing his bathrobe.
“You’re home,” he said quietly. “That’s good. I was getting worried. You told me you were on your way a while ago.”
“I made one more sweep in Beverly. There’s an all-night diner there and some fast-food places.”
“We didn’t get home too long ago,” Charlie said, sitting down. “C.J. knew some places that kids hang out, clubs where Zoey might have snuck herself in, even though she’s a minor. We showed her picture around, too.” He was quiet for a long moment. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I know this girl means a lot to you, and I’m sorry about the way this turned out.”
Lucy glanced at him. She believed that he was sincere, not just wrapping up an “I told you so” in kinder words.
“Well . . . it’s not over yet,” Lucy said, dredging up a last shred of hope. “Maybe she’ll turn around and come back. Maybe once she’s out there a few hours, she’ll realize that this solution doesn’t work for her anymore, and there’s a better way—here with us.”
He sighed. “Maybe, but I doubt it. She was with us for a few weeks, Lucy. But she’s been living the other way for years. It takes a lot longer for people to change.”
“I thought she changed a lot. Even you said she’s come a long way, Charlie. Don’t you remember saying that to me just the other day?”
Lucy didn’t mean to sound angry at him. It was very late, and they were both exhausted. But why did he have to persist with these comments about Zoey that were unfair and untrue?
“I do remember saying that,” he admitted. “But maybe that was just an act. Or maybe she just couldn’t change deep inside, where it really matters. New clothes don’t change a person, Lucy,” he reminded her. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. Maybe Zoey just needed a place to recharge her batteries for a few weeks. She made out pretty well here, with all the things you bought her. But I don’t believe she ever meant to stay. I think she liked us. Especially you. I’m sure she’s never met anyone in her life who was as sweet and kind to her as you were,” he added in a gentler tone. “Not even her own mother, I bet you. But she just never learned how to live with that, how to reciprocate. That’s just the kind of girl she is. I know how hard you tried, but you can’t change someone like that. Now we know that for sure,” he said finally.
Lucy wanted to interrupt her husband’s long speech, but she was too choked up to get a word out. She was feeling very angry—angry at Charlie . . . and even Zoey. And at the entire situation. “Zoey wasn’t using us,” she finally replied. “She’s just scared. Don’t you get it? She didn’t believe we would protect her. We should have taken full custody. She would have felt secure if we’d made a real commitment to her. She still feels she can’t trust anyone to help her, that she has to do everything for herself.”
He stood up and walked around the table behind her. He rested his hand on her shoulder and dropped a kiss on her hair. “You tried your best, Lucy. You’ve got a heart of gold, anybody can see that. Some people take advantage. That’s all I’m trying to say.” He sighed. “I’m going to bed. Come up soon and get some sleep, okay?”
Lucy nodded, feeling teary all over again. “I’ll be up soon,” she promised.
She sat and listened to Charlie’s footsteps going up the stairs.
We didn’t wish each other a Happy New Year, she realized. Well, that would be hypocritical, wouldn’t it? She felt anything but happy right now. She felt as if her heart were simply breaking. She felt she’d promised Zoey she would help her and failed miserably—and she didn’t know how to make things right again.
Lucy sent up a silent prayer, as she had all night while driving around, asking God to watch over Zoey and keep her safe from harm, wherever she might be.
THE PEWS WERE AS EMPTY THE FIRST SUNDAY AFTER THE HOLIDAYS AS they had been full the week before. That was the wax and wane of church attendance that Reverend Ben knew well. He had come to think of his congregation’s churchgoing as a tide, washing in and out of the sanctuary to its own natural rhythm, closely in sync with the seasons. The holidays pulled them in, and it was part of his job, as he saw it, to keep them coming back, even on the ebb tide.
He was not surprised then on the first Sunday of the New Year to see so few faces staring back at him from the pews. The sparse audience actually made it easier for him to recognize his congregants and make a few observations.
As he opened the service with the usual greeting and made the weekly announcements, he noticed Betty Bowman and Nathan Daley seated together toward the front of the church and looking very much like a couple. It was just something in their body language, the way they sat so comfortably together, the way they looked at each other. He already knew how Betty had visited Nathan last week and persuaded him to emerge from his self-imposed isolation. It looked as if her kind and loving attentions had worked wonders. Nathan had helped Betty, too, he thought. She had rarely looked lovelier or happier. The way Nathan had encouraged her to do good work in the community had opened a new door for Betty—and a new path that could lead toward new meaning and purpose. Ben had already seen that. He said a quick prayer that they would continue to help each other and that their relationship would flourish.
At the back of the church, he not
iced Lucy Bates coming in late with her son, Jamie. She found a seat in one of the last rows, sat down, and shrugged off her jacket. She didn’t look right, he thought. Her lovely red hair was pulled back in a simple, haphazard style and she wasn’t even wearing lipstick. It wasn’t at all the way she usually dressed for church. She looked tired, too, and Ben wondered if she had a cold or was just overworked from the holidays. Most of all, she looked sad. He could see that in her face, even at a distance. He could only guess the cause of her unhappiness and decided to look for her later and see if she wanted to talk about anything.
When it came time in the service for the congregation to share their joys and concerns, Ben’s suspicions about Lucy were confirmed. She was one of the first to raise her hand.
“I’d like to ask for everyone’s prayers for Zoey, the young girl who’s been staying with us these last few weeks,” Lucy began. “She’s been to church with us once or twice. Perhaps some of you remember her. . . . We came home on New Year’s Eve and discovered that she left the house and took all her belongings. We’ve been working with the police and her counselor and looking everywhere, trying to find her. We just pray that she’s all right and will come back soon.”
Poor Lucy, Ben thought. She felt so much for the girl, had invested so much of herself in their brief relationship. No wonder she looked so sad.
“That’s very distressing news, Lucy. We’ll all pray for her safety and speedy return.”
Ben offered up the prayers of thanks and concern and continued with the service. Later, as he stood at the back of the sanctuary, greeting those who waited to see him, he scanned the line for Lucy, but she wasn’t there. He did see her gathering her belongings and moving toward a side door. In an artful—and experienced—maneuver, he backed up into the narthex between his chats with other congregants, managing to cross paths with her. Perhaps she’d been trying to avoid him, but maybe she just felt too depleted to seek his help. He felt he had to reach out to her and take his chances.
On Christmas Eve Page 31
