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So that was what the two of them had been sneakily doing the other night. Hope’s heart sank. She wasn’t worried about Steve tracking down Zach. His number was defunct. He’d changed it the day he’d walked out. But she was worried that Melody, learning her father was nowhere to be found, might spiral.
Minutes later, Hope screeched the VW to a halt in front of the Waldrens’ house, scrambled out, and, clinging to Todd’s hand, raced up the path. The cheerful decorations that Frank and Ellery had so carefully put up did nothing to lighten Hope’s mood. She was scared. To the core. A silver Lexus was parked in the driveway, so she presumed Steve was there. His parents each drove Ford SUVs and Lincoln didn’t own a car.
“Mommy?” Todd whined. “You’re squeezing my hand too hard.”
She released it and kissed the top of his head. “I’m sorry. Mommy is worried.”
Todd rang the doorbell. It chimed “Jingle Bells,” which made Todd laugh.
“Don’t,” Hope warned. “This is not a laughing matter.”
Lincoln answered the door, a goofy grin on his face. “Hey, Hope. Hey, Todd. Come in. Merry Christmas. Well, almost Merry Christmas. It’s not quite Christmas.”
“Lincoln, focus.” Hope held up a hand. “Is your brother here? I need to see him.”
“Yep. We’re playing chess in the den. I’m beating him. He—”
Hope didn’t wait for niceties. She pushed past Lincoln yelling, “Is my daughter here?”
“No,” Lincoln said, following her.
Todd trailed him.
“Steve Waldren”—Hope stomped into the room—“is my daughter here?”
Steve bounded to his feet, rattling the chess board. Chessmen toppled. He hurried to reassemble them. “No. Why? What happened?”
“She’s missing and Todd said . . . Todd said . . .” Hope placed a hand on her chest to steady herself, then yelled, “Melody!”
No answer.
“Melody!” she repeated.
“She’s not here. I’m not lying.” Steve caressed Hope’s shoulder. “Breathe. C’mon. You’re shaking.”
“She’s gone!” Hope cried.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Todd squeaked.
Hope aimed a finger at Steve. “You . . . You . . . You made my children a promise you couldn’t keep. Not in a million years.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I told my mom what I asked you,” Todd said. “If maybe our dad could, you know, say yes to the prize, and you said we should call him, and Melody and me found his number, and—”
“Melody is missing, Steve, and she thinks—” Hope faltered. Lack of oxygen was making her dizzy. “She thinks—” The words wouldn’t form.
Steve clasped her arm and guided her to the sofa. “Sit. Take a few deep breaths. Lincoln, get Hope some water.”
“Sure thing, Steve.” Lincoln saluted and ran out.
“Start at the beginning,” Steve said, his gaze filled with concern.
Hope perched on the edge of the sofa and peered up at him. “Melody ran away. From the community center. She must have gone to find her father because she thinks if he says yes, then they . . .” She motioned to Todd. “She thinks the two of them can go to Disneyland. But she won’t find him because Zach—” She inhaled sharply. “Because he went off the grid. No phone number. No address.”
“Is it possible she managed to contact him anyway?” Steve asked. “You can track down people via the Internet. Not everyone can live under the radar.”
“Believe me, I’ve tried. He’s MIA.”
A door slammed. Footsteps slapped the floor in the entry. Ellery and Frank bolted into the den, Ellery still in her red apron and Frank removing his cap and coat.
Ellery said, “Gabe called us and told us you’d come here.” She leveled her son with a look. “Steven Richardson Waldren, what did you do?”
“I didn’t, Mom.” He threw his arms wide. “Not intentionally.”
“Here’s some water.” Lincoln returned and handed a glass to Hope. “If you get the hiccups, I know how to fix them, okay?”
Steve said, “Drink slowly, Hope, then let’s go through this step by step.”
Hope took a few sips and felt the constriction of her lungs lessen. “I took the kids to daycare.”
“Day camp,” Todd revised.
“Day camp. Then I went to work. When I came back, Melody wasn’t anywhere. She lied to the counselor, Khloe.”
“I know Khloe,” Ellery said. “Sweet girl. Diligent.”
“Melody told Khloe she wanted to throw some hoops, but she took her backpack and ran. She . . .” Hope battled tears. “She thinks her father can agree to accept the Disneyland prize, but she won’t find him. I’ve tried.”
Todd sat beside his mother and took her hand in his. “There, there,” he said the way Hope would if he was the one who was upset.
“There, there,” Lincoln echoed, and perched beside Todd.
Steve hitched his trousers at the thighs and crouched in front of Hope. He put his hands on her knees.
The warmth soothed her yet unsettled her. “Steve—”
“Shh. Let me speak first. I know saying I’m sorry won’t cut it,” he began, “but let me help you. Let’s go to the police. We’ll file a report.”
“What can they d-do?” Her voice hitched. “I’ve looked everywhere.”
“Everywhere?”
“I’ve searched all the places my daughter likes to hang out.” She ticked off the list as she had for Gabe, but paused as she realized Steve was right. She hadn’t looked everywhere. She hadn’t gone back to the trailer park. She hadn’t gone to the school.
“We need manpower,” Steve said, his voice warm and reassuring. “Bobby Capellini, the chief of police—”
“I know Bobby,” Hope said. “Roman’s brother.”
“Right. He and I were buddies in high school. He’s a great guy. He’ll get everyone on board. Let’s go. Mom?” Steve rose to a stand. “Can you watch Todd for us?”
“You bet I will.”
Todd didn’t budge. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
Hope scrambled to her feet and clasped him in a bear hug. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart.” Oh, how she wished that were true. But it had to be. Melody was fine, just stubborn. She wasn’t lost forever.
“Hey”—Todd broke free—“what if Melody went to Portland to find Dad?”
“No, no, no. She wouldn’t do that.” Hope paused. “Would she?” She looked to Ellery for support. “She thinks she’s older than she is, but she’s only ten. Ten!”
Ellery said, “I’m sure she’s close by.” She reached for Todd. “Come with me, young man. I’ve got cookies.”
Hope gave him a nudge. “Sweetheart, please stay with Mrs. Waldren.”
“Which do you want?” Ellery asked. “Snickerdoodles or chocolate crinkles?”
“Both, please.”
Lincoln said, “My mom makes the best snickerdoodles in Hope Valley. I should know. I helped make the batter. Didn’t I, Mom? Didn’t I?”
Ellery grinned. “Yes, dear, you did.”
“They’re almost as good as Steve’s,” Lincoln added.
“Almost. This way, boys.” Ellery signaled to Frank to get more information.
Frank said, “What can I do to help, Hope?”
“I’m not sure.”
Steve said, “Hope, do you have a picture of Melody?”
“On my phone.”
Hope pulled her cell phone from her pocket and swiped through photos. She stopped on one of Melody on the first day of school. So pretty. So self-assured. She showed it to Steve. He took the phone and forwarded the picture to himself and his father.
“Dad, start a phone tree.” Steve reached for Hope’s hand. “Let’s go. I’m driving.”
