by Rachel Lacey
Maybe she should have just told Amy and let her handle it.
So many maybes.
She was startled out of her melancholy by the ringing of the telephone. T.J.’s number showed on the caller ID.
“T.J.? Is everything okay?”
“Noah’s gone,” he said, his voice tinged with panic. “And he’s taken Amber with him.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
What do you mean, gone?” Merry clutched the phone as her stomach took a sickening lurch.
“He’s run off somewhere in this storm. He’s gone.” T.J.’s voice rose.
“Oh God. I’ll be right there. I’ll bring Ralph, he may be able to help us track him.”
“Hurry.”
The line clicked, and Merry stared at the phone for a moment in disbelief. Then she bolted down the hall to get her sneakers and Ralph’s vest. He ran to her side. Chip followed, looking confused.
She threw the gate across the doorway to the kitchen and lifted the puppy behind it. “Sorry, hon. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
She grabbed her purse from the table by the door, clipped Ralph’s leash to his collar, and ran toward her car. Overhead, the sky roiled with dark clouds. A few raindrops splashed her windshield, and thunder rumbled in the distance.
It had grown eerily dark by the time she pulled into T.J.’s driveway. Amy’s car was already there, along with several others she didn’t recognize. Oh God, this was really happening, and it was all her fault. If she’d just listened to T.J. and kept her mouth shut about the money…
Now an autistic boy and his injured dog were out there somewhere in those woods, alone, with a thunderstorm looming.
T.J. came around from behind the house and stared at her CR-V.
I shouldn’t even be here. She swallowed over the thought and stepped out of the car. She slipped Ralph’s vest over his head and fastened it. It would help to put him in a working mind-set. He’d had no training as a search and rescue dog, but he knew Noah and he knew Amber, and maybe by instinct he could help find them.
“My parents have taken the horses down toward the stream. Amy’s waiting in the house in case he comes back. If we haven’t found him in the next hour, she’s calling the police. You and I are going to search the woods.” T.J. stared at her with cold, flat eyes.
She nodded. “Okay. Do you have something of Noah’s, and something of Amber’s, that I can show Ralph?”
T.J. looked down at the dog in his vest and scowled. “He’s not a search and rescue dog.”
“No, but we play a game of ‘find it’ with his toys at home. He may be able to help.”
He went into the house and came back with one of Noah’s shirts, the sleeves ragged from his nervous picking. He handed Merry the shirt and Amber’s stuffed porcupine.
She crouched in front of Ralph and held the shirt out for him to sniff. “Ralph, go find Noah. Go find him.”
Ralph sniffed the shirt and wagged his tail.
She showed him the chew toy. “Amber. Go find Amber. Go find Amber and Noah.”
She let him sniff the shirt and the toy again. He barked, excited about this new variation of the game. She unclipped his leash. “Go on. Go find Amber. Go find Noah.”
Ralph dashed into the woods.
T.J. gave her an exasperated look. “What’d you take his leash off for? We can’t keep up with him like that.”
“Don’t worry. He’ll stay close by.”
But he was worried, and so was she. Not about Ralph. But Noah, somewhere in those woods and possibly lost. And Amber, who’d accompanied her buddy on his journey with her leg still pinned and healing.
T.J. didn’t look at her as they tromped through the trees. Her heart felt like lead, pressing into her lungs. She’d let him down. She’d failed Noah. How was she going to live with herself if anything happened to him?
The skies opened up then, pouring buckets of rain that dripped through the trees and soaked them straight through. She pulled an elastic from her pocket and tied back her hair, already heavy and sodden.
T.J. turned to glare at her. “You just couldn’t let it rest.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I wanted—I thought—” He shook his head, apparently unable to put his disappointment into words. He didn’t have to. It was all there on his face, in his voice.
“I’m sorry, T.J.” Her throat burned.
Ralph came streaking back to them, barking happily, drenched with rain. He ran a circle around Merry, then nosed at the shirt and chew toy she still held. Was he looking for them or just playing? She honestly had no idea.
She paused for a moment and held them out to him again. She let him sniff each one and repeated her command. “Go find Noah. Go find Amber.”
He raised his nose to sniff the air, then dashed off into the woods.
Overhead, the sky split with a flash of lightning, followed immediately by a boom of thunder. Ralph ran back to her, ears pinned against his head. He looked up with questioning eyes, as if to ask why they were playing games in the woods during such bad weather.
He shook himself, sending a spray of water in all directions that did nothing to help dry himself off, then pressed his shoulder against her knee and whined.
“It’s okay, Ralph. Go on now. Go find Noah. Go find Amber.”
Ralph sniffed the shirt, then the toy, and trotted off into the trees.
“Amber’s terrified of storms. What if she freaks out and hurts Noah?” T.J. asked.
“She won’t. She might leave him and run off to hide by herself, but she won’t hurt him.”
“People and animals do strange things when they’re scared or hurt.” He gave her a long, dark look.
She said nothing, just kept walking in the direction Ralph had gone.
“Your damn dog had better not be leading us on a wild-goose chase,” he grumbled.
“Honestly, I have no idea if he’s on the right track or not. If you want to go off on your own, you can.”
He kept walking beside her. It was somewhat reminiscent of that other night in the woods when Amber had slipped her collar and gone missing, when Merry had trekked out here in the middle of the night in a tank top and flip-flops. The night she’d first kissed T.J.
Maybe if she hadn’t been stupid enough to kiss him that night, none of this would have happened. She could only hope Amber was as easy to find tonight as she had been that night, and that Noah was still with her.
That they were both okay. Unharmed.
Oh God, please let them be okay.
Rainwater ran down her back and soaked her jean shorts. It dripped into her eyes and squished between her toes with each step. Overhead, lightning and thunder battled in the sky.
Ralph came to them again and again, always sniffing the items she held, which were now soaking wet. His direction sometimes changed, and she feared the consequence if he had no idea what he was doing.
“The police should be here by now,” T.J. said.
“That’s good.” Water ran like tears over her cheeks.
He stopped and stared at her. “Maybe we should go back.”
“You probably should. I’m going to keep following Ralph.” She hoped her instincts were right because there he came again, bounding through the trees. He barked excitedly, then took off in the opposite direction.
“I don’t think your dog knows what he’s doing.”
“He very well might not. You can go back if you want.”
They kept walking. It was getting dark now, especially here in the woods with the clouds above hiding what remained of the sun. T.J. clicked on his flashlight and panned the trees.
Ralph ran toward them. He sat in front of Merry and barked, then ran off into the woods again. This time one hundred and eighty degrees from his last trip.
“This is a waste of time.” T.J. stopped and fisted his hands on his hips.
Merry looked after Ralph. When they played “find it” at home with his toys, he’d run off and find the toy, then b
ring it back to her. What would he do if he found what he was looking for but couldn’t bring it back with him?
“Give him another minute,” she said.
He’d run left and right a few times, but more often he’d run straight ahead, then returned. Maybe he’d already found them and didn’t know how to tell her. Maybe he was looking for chew toys in the woods. There was no way to be sure.
She stood and watched. Ralph ran ahead through the trees until she could barely see him. He poked his nose under a bush, barked, then ran back to her and T.J. He barked again, then ran off into the woods in the opposite direction.
But then he went back to the bush. And it moved.
“T.J.,” she whispered. “Watch.”
Ralph ran a circle around the bush, then returned to her and T.J. He barked, sniffed the shirt, and ran off into the woods.
“That bush.” She pointed. It was big and thick and quite possibly the type of place a terrified boy and his dog might take shelter during a storm.
“Wait here.” He walked ahead, sloshing through the rain-soaked underbrush. He squatted and peered into the bush, then flashed her a thumbs up.
Merry’s limbs went weak with relief. Ralph ran up to her, panting eagerly. “You did it. You found them. I am so proud of you. You are the best dog ever, you know that?”
He smiled up at her, tail nub wagging happily.
“You are such a good dog.” She rubbed behind his ears and handed him a couple of soggy treats from her pocket. “What a good boy. You found them!”
Ralph’s whole body wiggled with pride.
T.J. stood and walked back to her. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’s fine. Amber’s leg may be a little worse for wear.”
Merry pushed back a soggy curl. “And he wants to talk to me?”
T.J. nodded, his mouth grim. “He won’t come out until he sees you.”
Oh, Noah. She’d started this, she could finish it. “Hold him for me?”
She clipped Ralph’s leash to his collar and passed it to T.J., then walked ahead to the bush. She crouched down to see the boy and dog huddled beneath it.
Noah’s eyes were red, his face streaked with mud and tears. Amber lay beside him, panting heavily, her eyes wide and wild. She looked at Merry, her expression that of a mother bear protecting her cub.
“What a brave girl you are, sticking by your boy.” Merry held her hand out. She waited for the dog to sniff it, waited for her tail to give a wag of approval before she came closer. “Is it okay if I come under with you guys?”
Noah nodded, and Amber licked her palm.
Merry dropped to her hands and knees in the mud and crawled inside the bush. “It’s kind of nice in here. You guys okay?”
Noah shook his head. His teeth chattered, despite the muggy heat of the evening. “A-A-Amber… her l-l-leg…”
Merry looked at the injured leg. It was swollen but not obviously disfigured. She probed it gently, and the dog whined. “It’s nothing the vet can’t fix. How about you, Noah?”
“I—I—I…” He’d become a stuttering mess. His arms flapped at his sides. His sleeves had completely unraveled. He stared into the dense branches of the bush, his eyes glassy.
“Remember that magic when you hugged Ralph? Want to try it on Amber?”
The boy wrapped his arms around her neck and sobbed. Amber licked his cheek, then stared at Merry with solemn eyes.
Noah hiccupped. “I—I—I’m going to juvie.”
“Juvie?” she repeated, stupidly thinking she’d misunderstood.
“It’s where boys go when they steal,” he whispered.
Merry lurched upright and speared her head on a branch. She grabbed her scalp and stifled a swear. “Juvenile detention? No. Oh, sweetie, no. I told you I didn’t want to get you in trouble, not even with your mom and certainly not with the police. I just wanted to talk.”
Noah closed his eyes and sobbed. “N-n-not you…”
Okay, maybe now they were getting somewhere. “Why don’t you tell me what happened. Why did you take the money? I know you had a good reason for it.”
“Steven. He said we’d go to juvie.” Noah trembled all over. Amber pressed herself closer against his side and laid her uninjured front paw protectively across his lap.
“Who’s Steven?”
“Brendan’s big brother. He knows a lot about jail and stuff.”
Oh lord. What had those kids gotten into? “Sweetie, you’re not going to be sent to juvie. Why did Steven say that?”
“He s-said we stole his iPad. We had to pay him back for it. F-fifty bucks.” Noah buried his face in Amber’s fur and sobbed.
“Oh, sweetie. Oh, Noah. Come here.” She lifted him against her chest and held him tight. “You didn’t steal Steven’s iPad, did you?”
He shook his head.
“Did Brendan steal it?”
He shook it again, even harder. “N-no. Brendan’s my best friend.”
“What about Steven? Is he a nice kid too?” She was pretty sure she already knew the answer to that question.
“No,” he whispered, and his voice broke.
“Why didn’t you tell someone what happened?”
“Because he said he’d tell the police we stole his iPad, and we’d get sent to juvie. And Brendan and I wouldn’t be allowed to play together ever again. He’s my b-b-best friend.”
“Noah, look at me.” She waited until he lifted his head. “You’re not going to juvie. Brendan is not going to juvie. We’re going to walk out of the woods now and tell your mom what happened, and she’s going to tell Brendan’s mom, and hopefully Steven will get in trouble for what he did. But you, Noah, are not in trouble. Do you understand?”
He sniffled. “I d-didn’t even know what an iPad was. I had to look it up.”
So that’s why Amy had caught him sneaking around on her laptop. And why did a kid in low-income housing like Steven have an iPad in the first place? “I believe you.”
Noah’s hands fisted in Amber’s fur. “I did steal from you.”
“I know, sweetie. It’s all right. I’m not mad.”
“I’ll p-p-pay you back.” He hiccupped again.
“Okay.” She brushed a lock of hair back from his face.
Fresh tears streaked his cheeks. “What about Brendan? Will we still be able to play together?”
“That’s for your mom and his mom to decide, okay? Let’s get you home now because she’s worried sick about you.”
“I’ve already called her. She knows you’re safe.” T.J.’s voice came from outside the bush, reminding Merry that he was listening to every word. Her heart lurched into her throat.
Noah reached out and grabbed her wrist. “I hurt Amber.”
“When?” She thought she knew, but she didn’t want to lead him.
“That day at Brendan’s. Steven was yelling at me, and I got scared and ran. I wasn’t looking where I was going. We ran right in front of that car.”
“And you’re lucky you didn’t get hurt too. It was careless, but you’re eight, Noah. You’re not expected to always have good judgment. Hell, I’m twenty-eight, and I don’t always have good judgment. Amber’s going to be fine. It was just an accident, okay?”
Noah sobbed. “N-no. It’s my fault she got hurt.”
“Oh, honey.” She gathered him into her arms again. Her heart broke for him, for the pain and guilt he’d carried these weeks since the accident. “It’s not your fault. Sometimes bad things just happen, and they’re no one’s fault. You can’t go on blaming yourself for it.”
“I f-f-feel so bad. I hate myself every time I look at her.” Noah’s voice was tortured, hoarse from the tears.
“Sweetie, I promise Amber doesn’t blame you. She loves you. She’d do anything for you. She is terrified of thunderstorms, and she came all the way out here with you tonight so that you wouldn’t be alone. Please don’t blame yourself.”
“H-h-have you ever done somet
hing bad like I did?” He looked up at her with tear-filled eyes so full of desperation.
“I—” Her throat closed up, and her heart started to pound.
The branches parted in front of her to reveal T.J. crouched before them. “We all have, Noah. Everyone does things they regret. There are things we wish we could go back and change, even if they weren’t our fault in the first place. It’s what makes us human.”
He looked at her with unspoken understanding, and her world crumbled. Floodgates opened inside her, and all the guilt, and pain, and grief just came pouring out. She pressed a hand over her eyes, desperate to hold back the tears.
T.J. pulled her against his chest, one arm around her, the other around Noah. Rain mixed with tears on her cheeks. She bit her bottom lip to stop it from shaking.
They were the same, she and Noah. Except now she had the power to help him heal, to keep him from making the same mistake she had. No guilt. No blame.
“Your uncle’s right,” she said, her voice as hoarse as Noah’s. “Something happened a long time ago to someone I loved very much, and I blamed myself for it. I felt so guilty for so long, but… it wasn’t my fault, and I can’t change it. You didn’t hurt Amber. It was just an accident. Blaming yourself isn’t going to change what happened.”
“Were they okay?” Noah asked, all wide-eyed innocence. “The person that you love?”
“No.” Her voice broke, and T.J.’s arm tightened around her. “No he wasn’t, but blaming myself doesn’t change that either. And Amber is going to be fine. She loves you so much. She needs you, Noah.”
“I need her too.” He slid from Merry’s arms to fling them around Amber. The dog closed her eyes in silent pleasure.
T.J. pulled her against him, and she pressed her face to his chest, breathing in his scent. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight until the pain in her throat had receded, until she could draw breath without feeling like she might crumble into a million pieces.
She lifted her head, but his expression was hidden in the shadows beneath the brim of his hat. Then he slid a hand behind her neck and drew her in, his forehead pressed against hers, his stubble tickling her jaw.
