Making Her Way Home

by Janice Kay Johnson

“Yes. There’s something about her, too….”

  “She’s got that real pale blond hair like he had.”

  “His probably would have darkened. Yours did.”

  “Yeah, I suppose so.” They didn’t talk about Nate much anymore, although Mom kept photos of her grandson on the mantel and in the collage on the family room wall along with the ones of her other grandkids. She mentioned him more naturally than Mike did.

  “I’m sorry you didn’t have other children.” She sounded sad, and he knew this time it was for him, not Nate.

  He grunted, not telling her he was glad he and Ellen hadn’t had others. He wouldn’t have wanted to be a divorced father, but staying in a broken marriage wouldn’t have been good for them, either.

  “I’ve met someone,” he heard himself tell his mother, and knew this was really why he’d called.

  A car started up the alley and he straightened away from the fender, then watched as a small red pickup passed without the gray-haired driver even turning his head. “What?” Mike said, realizing his mother had been talking.

  “Who?” she repeated. “Why haven’t you brought her for us to meet?”

  “Uh…this is new. She’s Sicily Marks’s aunt.”

  “The one whose house was searched?” His mother sounded shocked.

  “That was routine. We had to do it.”

  “You must have had some reason to suspect her.”

  “Nobody at the park remembered seeing Sicily. We were at a dead end. We had to consider the possibility that she never had been there.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “I don’t know if Beth is going to forgive me for doing that. She, ah, she’s an event planner. Not weddings—more like auctions, parties, sales pitches, that kind of thing. She thinks the publicity won’t be good for business.”

  Mom was quiet again for long enough to have him twitching. “Why her?” she finally said, surprising him.

  “I don’t know,” he told her, then grimaced. “She’s…been wounded, Mom. Abused as a kid. Her parents are unbelievable. Her sister is dead. Sicily is all she has. She’s scared to death and I keep thinking of her alone, waiting for news.”

  And that, he realized, was really why he’d been thinking about his parents. He wished he could share his family with her, but knew it was too soon.

  “Do you want me to go to her?” his mother asked with no hesitation at all, her voice warm.

  “No. She and I, we aren’t to that point. But I wish we were, for her sake. And…it got me to thinking about how lucky I was to have you and Dad and Jen and the rest. I don’t know if I ever said that.”

  “We’re family,” she said simply, and he thought about the Greenways. In one way he’d always known he was lucky, but it had never hit him how lucky.

  “I won’t keep you,” he finally said. “I’m, uh, waiting to talk to someone, killing time—” four hours and counting “—and felt like hearing your voice, that’s all. Say hi to Dad.”

  “You’ll come to dinner when this is over?”

  “Sure.”

  “And bring this…Elizabeth, isn’t it?”

  “Beth. That’ll depend.”

  “And Sicily, of course,” his mother said sturdily. “We want to get to know her, too.”

  “I’ll be in touch,” he told her, and ended the call. He shouldn’t have told his mother about Beth, gotten her hopes up for something that might not happen.

  What if we’re too late? he asked himself. What if Sicily were already dead? Would that completely destroy Beth, fragile as she already was? He would give anything to be able to take back those first hours—no, the first days of the search, to have said at the beginning, “It is not your fault. Shit happens. Kids are careless. Your niece is ten years old, you shouldn’t have to watch her the way you would a toddler.” He wished Beth had never seen the way some of the search-and-rescue people had looked at her. He was afraid that nothing he could say now would ever convince her that she wasn’t to blame for what happened to Sicily.

  He could have convinced Ellen, if he’d believed it himself. Convincing Beth would be harder. But he had a chance to get it right this time.

  Mike groaned. He turned to look at the poor cat, still sitting on the windowsill, waiting.

  Chris Adler, where are you?

  * * *

  BETH STARED AT THE WALL WHERE she should have had a television. It occurred to her that she could have run over to one of the big-box stores and picked out a new one. If she carried her phone, it wouldn’t matter if she was here or there.

  She didn’t move.

  And I thought Saturday was awful. Sunday.

  But at least both those days she’d been occupied—Saturday by Mike’s endless questions, Sunday by the search. And by more questions. But today there was not one single thing she could do that would in any way help find Sicily.

  When he left that morning, she’d resolved to stay busy. Cleaning house was the obvious solution.

  Fine. She stripped and changed the beds, putting the sheets in to wash. She dusted, vacuumed, scrubbed toilets and sinks, mopped bathroom and kitchen floors—and never once succeeded in distracting herself from the terrifying wait. She couldn’t concentrate enough to pay bills. She tried to focus on possible themes for an upcoming fundraiser, and found herself gazing into space while she bargained with God. She got everything out to bake cookies, and couldn’t…not without Sicily. So she put it all away again.

  And she waited. Pulling out the phone at least every fifteen minutes didn’t help. No, there were no missed calls, no texts, no messages. Mike would call if he had news, she knew he would, so…what was he doing? What were any of them doing?

  At least her father was willing to pay. It might be to save face, but right now Beth didn’t care. The money was atonement of a sort. I will forgive him, she decided, if his two million dollars brings Sicily home safely.

  But she wasn’t dumb enough to think it would be that easy. Chad had had Sicily—his daughter, a thought that brought fresh horror—for almost a week now. He didn’t know that he had been traced through the car, but he must have shown himself to Sicily, or how else had he gotten her to record the one message and talk on the phone for the second one?

  How could he let her go and expect to get away with this?

  He couldn’t. And that knowledge left Beth hollow and breathless with fear.

  Eventually, she was reduced to sitting on the living-room sofa, doing nothing but waiting, the phone held cupped in one hand.

  At nearly six o’clock, it finally leaped in her hand and rang. She saw Mike’s number, and fumbled to answer.

  “Adler came home at last,” he reported, his voice flat. “He has no idea where Marks lives these days. He happened to run into him at a party, and when Chad mentioned he was looking for a cheap used car, Adler told him about the one a coworker was selling. Says Chad stopped by the store the next day to get the phone number. Adler has no current contact info for Chad.”

  So stunned she could hardly speak, Beth managed an almost-numb response. “But…he was our only hope.”

  “No, he’s calling friends. He thinks he can find someone who knows someone who knows…” She could hear the depth of Mike’s discouragement. “I’m heading north. I can’t do anything else tonight, not unless he comes up with an address.”

  “I’ll bet you’ve forgotten what it feels like to go home.” Don’t, she pleaded silently. Come here. Please come here.

  He didn’t say anything at all for a minute. Then, “Tell me you weren’t alone all day, Beth.”

  “Having to make conversation wouldn’t have helped.”

  “No.” He sounded wry. “Maybe not. I feel like I owe you a meal. Can I take you out to dinner? I might have to drop you back home quick if something comes up, but…”
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  “You know you’d be welcome to come here again,” she said simply. “Cooking would give me something to do. But please don’t feel I need my hand held if you’re hankering for home. It was…nice of you to stay last night. But I’m okay,” she lied. “Really.”

  “Good,” he said, “but if you’re willing, I’d be glad to eat another home-cooked meal. And, truth is, I don’t plan to go home no matter what. Too long a drive back to Seattle.”

  Beth was so grateful her eyes stung, but she strove to sound casual. “I’ll see you in a little while, then.” Only after she hung up did it occur to her to wonder that he was already driving north when he called; had he been counting on her? Or had he intended to go home but felt sorry for her?

  Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang and she hurried to let him in. Halfway across the doorstep, he took her hand, tugged her forward and kissed her lightly, releasing her before she could tug free. Lips tingling, stunned anew, she stepped aside to let him pass. Then she took a second look and stared at him in shock. He seemed to have aged ten years today. Every line on his face had deepened.

  “Did something happen…?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Leading the way to the kitchen, Beth asked tentatively, “Do you dare have a glass of wine?”

  Mike shook his head. “Something could break any minute. I’d have grabbed dinner in Seattle and hunkered down with the CARD team if we were sure Chad lives in Seattle. But what if he’s in Everett? Lynnwood? Hell, even the east side, I’d be damn near as close from here.” Even his shrug seemed weary. “Toss of the dice. And I’d rather be here with you.”

  He said it so simply, so absolutely, Beth couldn’t doubt he meant it. Not pity, then. Or not only pity. “Sit down,” she invited. “Dinner will be another half hour.” She looked at him closely. “Do you need coffee?”

  He shuddered. “Maybe later. As good as yours is, I’ve been living on it all day. Skipped lunch. Milk or juice would be good.”

  Conversation over dinner was sporadic. They’d start on a subject and one of them would drift off. The case had to be pulling at him, as well as tiredness. It was only for fleeting moments that Beth could forget Sicily and the looming likelihood that they wouldn’t find her before tomorrow’s ransom drop.

  Mike was telling her about Chris Adler’s cat, which he’d sworn had stared at him without blinking for hours on end when she interrupted. “What time is Dad supposed to set out tomorrow?” Then she flushed. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

  He shook his head. “I was trying to distract you. No surprise it didn’t work. Ten o’clock.”

  “Chad will want to keep Sicily until…until he has his money, won’t he? In case it gets fouled up again this time?”

  “I don’t know, Beth.” His eyes were slightly bloodshot. As tired as the rest of him clearly was. “It went bad the first time because your dad lied to him. I think he may see this as all or nothing.”

  She felt as if fingers had tiptoed up her spine. A ghost walking by? Please not Sicily’s. Beth nodded, saying nothing.

  “Today felt interminable.” He spoke with sudden anger, even violence. “I can hear the damn clock ticking. Hell.” He closed his eyes and bent his head. “I’m sorry, Beth. This isn’t what you need.”

  “Yes, it is.” She’d surprised herself, and him, too, she saw when he lifted his head. “I need you to be honest with me. You’ve given me hope, but I don’t want false hope. If Sicily is dead, she’s dead.” It sounded so blunt, so bleak, and she felt so angry. Her throat wanted to close. “Maybe…maybe I need to start preparing myself.”

  “No!” He surged to his feet. “No, damn it! I will not give up on that little girl.”

  Beth found herself standing, too, without quite knowing how she’d gotten up. “She’s not Nate, Mike.”

  He scowled at her. “I know that. It’s her… I keep seeing her picture. Wishing she’d smiled when it was taken. Wondering how many chances she had to smile.”

  Her vision blurred. “Not enough,” she whispered. “After she came to stay with me, the first time I heard her giggle, she looked so surprised. I kept telling myself it was because her mother had died so recently, that…that I shouldn’t assume she was always so serious, but I’m afraid she was. That last week, I thought…” Her tears fell unashamedly now. She couldn’t finish.

  Mike had her in his arms, and she cried against his chest. He rocked slightly on his feet, as if instinct drove him, and she had a sudden image of this man doing the exact same thing with his baby against his shoulder. He’d have been endlessly patient, she knew. He should have had other children. He was so generous with everything he had to give. He’d been generous with her even when he suspected her of hurting Sicily.

  I’m in love with him, she realized in shock. Almost immediately she wiped her wet cheeks on his shirt and withdrew. Ridiculous. I’m grateful. I’m…

  In love. It hurt to think about. He was being so nice, but she knew it had to be the shared intensity of their worry about Sicily. Yes, he’d kissed her, but she shouldn’t assume anything.

  She didn’t even know if she wanted anything more. Up until five weeks ago, it had never occurred to her that she would ever share her life with anyone. She couldn’t forget how hard it was adjusting to the addition of a ten-year-old girl. In her desperation to have Sicily back, she was blocking out how much Sicily’s presence had disrupted a life Beth was comfortable with. A man would change everything all over again. And Sicily deserved her full attention. When she came home.

  Beth couldn’t make herself think about the possibility that she wouldn’t. Not yet. No matter what she’d said about preparing herself.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “I guess it’s getting to me.”

  “You think?” His rumble might have been a laugh. “Here, let me help you clear the table.”

  His phone rang and he answered immediately, his eyes never leaving Beth’s. She waited, stricken.

  His side of the conversation consisted mostly of uh-huhs. At the end he said, “You understand how important this is. Every minute counts.”

  He restored his phone to his belt and told Beth, “That was Adler. He’s getting a lot of ‘who knows?’ Seems Chad moves often. Sleeps on friend’s couches until they get tired of him. One of Adler’s friends says he heard Chad rented a place a month or two ago, but he has no idea where. He says his roommate would know, but the roommate let him know earlier he’d hooked up with someone and wouldn’t be home tonight. It’s like a curse,” he added, the frustration further gouging lines on his face. “Anyway, we’re fresh out of luck until the guy shows up for work in the morning. Early,” Mike said, seemingly to read Beth’s instinctive protest. “Flower market, where florists go pick out their blooms. Crack of dawn.”

  She didn’t move. “I keep thinking this is a nightmare.”

  “Maybe it is. Maybe we’ll both wake up.”

  Beth turned blindly and picked up dishes from the table. A moment later, Mike did the same.

  * * *

  THE MAN LET SICILY OUT TO USE the bathroom that evening. She was so hungry, she thought it might be later than usual. She’d even wondered if it might already be morning until she saw the dark outside the window. A faint blue haze hung over the living room and she could smell marijuana. His eyes were red and kind of puffy. That would make him slower, sleepier, she thought on a burst of hope, but he stuck really close as he walked her to the bathroom, and once she shut herself in, she couldn’t hear any footsteps at all. He had to be standing there on the other side of the door. She gave up finally and came out. There he was, leaning against the wall, blocking her way to the exit.

  “Do you, um, have any juice or anything?” she asked, pausing by the kitchen.

  His laugh went on too long, like she’d said something really funny. “Beer. You want a beer?”


  “No, thank you,” Sicily said politely. She also thanked him for dinner when she passed him to go back into her room. She even closed the door behind herself, thinking he might forget to lock it, but he didn’t.

  Cheeseburger and French fries.

  She thought he was feeding her twice a day, and she’d been keeping track, but all of a sudden she couldn’t remember how many days had passed. Her heart raced, making it harder to think clearly. Forgetting like that was scary.

  He’d been weird tonight. Weirder than usual. He was supposed to get the money tomorrow. Maybe he was nervous.

  She looked at the bag of food. The food he’d brought way later than usual. Maybe he didn’t need her anymore.

  * * *

  OF COURSE MIKE WOULD BE leaving now. The dishwasher was loaded, the counter wiped clean. He’d have no reason to borrow her computer. She wondered where the FBI team was gathered—hunkered down, was the term he’d used. Her parents’ house? Beth bet Mom would welcome him when he walked in the door. But when she asked whether a permanent headquarters had been set up at the house in Magnolia, he shook his head.

  “No, they’re operating out of FBI offices. Carol’s got someone staying there, though, keeping an eye on your dad. Offering a shoulder if either of your parents need it.”

  She huffed.

  A faint smile, the first of the evening, flickered on his mouth. “No, I guess not. Mostly—” his voice hardened “—the agent’s role is to be sure your father doesn’t get another phone call and decide he doesn’t need us.”

  She had to say this. “It might be better for Sicily if he did.”

  Mike shook his head. He made sure she was meeting his eyes and then said, “If I thought so, I’d be arguing for it. No, I don’t think it makes any difference at this point. What does count is us being able to follow him.”

  She swallowed and turned away. He thought Sicily was already dead. Earlier, he’d come close to saying so. Please no.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee before you go?” she asked.

  “Truthfully…” He hesitated, his blue eyes watchful. “I’d hoped you would let me stay the night again.”