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Charley pushed through the front door Tuesday morning, Jason hot on her heels. She pointed him to the kitchen. “Check the garage for her bike, then call Emma and Piper’s house. The girls are at school, but explain what’s happening to their parents. We need to know what the girls know ASAP.”
Jason turned to do her bidding, but not before she heard his irritable growl. “Yeah...yeah. I’m a cop too.”
Charley ignored him and hurried down the hall, running a timeline in her head. Kinsley’d left the house at the normal time this morning, backpack slung over her shoulder, a cheerful goodbye for her parents. School started at eight-thirty, and the office had waited until she’d missed roll call for her second hour class, which began at nine-thirty, to call.
Charley burst into her daughter’s room and glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. Five after ten. Not quite two and a half hours since Kinsley had left the house this morning. Her fingers itched to call Chief Black, but protocol was protocol, even for fellow officers. There were two reasons for a girl Kinsley’s age to be missing. She chose to be, or she didn’t. It was up to them as parents to eliminate the first before they could investigate the second as cops.
Jason edged into the room. “Bike’s in the garage. Emma and Piper will be picked up by their mothers in the next thirty minutes. If they know anything, they’ll call us.”
“Good. Do you want the closet or the computer?”
He motioned to the half open door to the closet. “You know more about what’s supposed to be in there than I do.”
Charley nodded, waiting just long enough to watch Jason pull a card from his wallet and sit at Kinsley’s desk. She turned to riffle through hangers to the sound of Jason’s muttered words and his hunt-and-peck typing.
“Boo Boo Bear. Who picks Boo Boo Bear for their computer password?”
“Our daughter,” she said. “And it’s all one word, all lowercase.”
“I know. I’m in.”
Silence stretched between them for a few minutes. “Anything missing?” Jason asked.
“Hard to tell,” Charley scrutinized the jumbled contents of the closet. Kinsley’s clothes hung in no particular order, and her shoes formed a pyramid on the floor. Shoes. “But...wait.” She slammed the door and dashed into her own room to make a quick visual sweep of the closet she shared with Jason. She narrowed her eyes when she didn’t find what she was looking for. She went back to Kinsley’s room, bent, and peered under the bed. “I think...”
“What,” Jason asked, his attention never wavering from their daughter’s computer.
“I know she wore those new black sneakers out of the house this morning, but the sandals I loaned her on Saturday are missing.” She stopped, straightened, and closed her eyes, pulling the last image she had of her daughter into focus. Something about the backpack bothered her. Had it been bulkier than normal?
Jason muttered under his breath.
“What?” Charley asked.
“Do you remember the password to Kinsley’s savings account? I must be typing it wrong.”
***
KINSLEY TOSSED A STUFFED backpack into the overhead compartment and settled into the seat of the Houston-bound plane at nine-thirty Tuesday morning. The sigh that left her lungs was half satisfaction and half relief. The plane would depart in fifteen minutes, and once they were off the ground, she would be home free. Twenty-first-century convenience had made the operation a snap from the online purchase of the one-way airline ticket to getting an Uber to pick her up five blocks from the school for the forty-five-mile drive to the airport. She’d done her research. The airlines had no restrictions for minors traveling alone. The car service did, but they were loosely enforced. Despite those assurances, Kinsley’d held her breath at each juncture, relieved when no one even gave her a second look, if you didn’t count the old creeper in the bright red tie sitting across from her in the airport boarding area. He looked old enough to be her grandpa, but he’d seemed more interested in her than his newspaper. Yuck.
She looked out the small window and swallowed the sour taste of her nagging conscience as the plane began its slow push back from the gate. It was going to get ugly when the school called her parents to ask about her absence. Kinsley was already sorry for the few hours of panic that she knew would follow when her mom and dad couldn’t find her. Once she landed ,she’d call them, then she’d call Melissa. Her parents would be on the road to fetch her home before she hung up, but if she could just have a day to talk to Melissa and let her know that she was willing to do what she could do to help. Even...heat built in her throat, and her stomach churned, even donating a kidney.
Kinsley snatched up the bottle of water she’d stowed in the seat pocket and took a healthy chug. They’re going to haul me home and ground me until I leave for college. The plane paused at the end of the runway, and she heard the deep rumble of the revving engines, then felt the pressure on her chest as she was thrust back into her seat. Her stomach dropped when the wheels of the plane cleared the ground. As the earth fell away beneath her, Kinsley closed her eyes.
I don’t guess I have to ask You how You feel about what I’m doing. Somehow, I don’t think my conscience would be hammering at me if this trip had Your blessing. But, God, I’m confused. I’ve been taught the value of truth my whole life, and suddenly everyone I know is keeping things from me, important things. How can I know what’s right, what I should feel, or even what comes next, if I can’t get to the truth? Frustrated moisture welled in her eyes, and she faced the window again, afraid that tears would draw the attention she’d done her best to avoid all morning.
You know everything, and I know You have a plan for me. For Mom and Melissa too. Could You help me find it? At least I can depend on You to be straight with me. And could You keep Mom and Dad from freaking out too badly between now and the time I land? Maybe help them understand that this was something I had to do.
Kinsley took a deep breath and thumbed the screen of her phone. It was almost ten. No way her parents weren’t looking for her by now.
***
“WRONG?” CHARLEY LEANED over her husband’s shoulder, batted his hand away from the mouse, and entered a sequence of letters and numbers. She frowned when an error message flashed on the screen. “Locked out. How can I be locked out?” She sent Jason a sideways glance. “How many times did you try?”
“Twice.”
“And mine makes three. What did you enter?”
Jason rattled off the same combination she’d just tried.
“That sneaky, conniving...she changed it.” The words held plenty of parental wrath, but some of the tension eased. At least they could be fairly certain that wherever she’d gone, she’d gone of her own free will. Charley pulled her cell phone free, found the number to the bank, and waited for the call to connect.
“Who are you calling?” Jason asked.
“Randy. We need into that account, and she’s the fastest way to get there.”
“Mrs. Page’s office. How may I help you?”
“Syd, it’s Charley. I need to talk to Randy.”
“Hey, Charley.” Syd’s voice held a smile. “Randy’s in a meeting over at city hall until eleven. Anything I can help you with, or I can leave a message for her.”
Charley looked at her watch. It was a quarter ‘til. They could drive to the bank faster than Syd could pry Randy free. “No, that’s fine. Just keep her there when she comes back. Jason and I are headed that way now.” She closed the call on Syd’s questions and followed Jason out to the car.
A few minutes later, they rushed into the bank. Charley saw Randy laughing with Syd in the outer office. She increased her stride, entering on a rush of words.
“Randy, I need you to access Kinsley’s savings account for me, the one you opened for her a few months ago. I’d do it myself, but we’re locked out, and I need to see her last few transactions.”
Randy took a step forward. “Whoa. Slow down. We—”
“Don’t give me any grief.” Charley’s hands shook, and she clasped them behind her back. “I need into that account.” She ran nervous hands through her hair. “And I need you to do it without any of the bank VP”—she loosened her hands and waved them in front of her—“mumbo jumbo.” She felt impatient tears in her eyes and swallowed them back. “You can do it because we’re”—she motioned from herself to Jason—“police officers tracking a missing child. And if that’s not good enough, then do it because we’re friends.”
Randy was still for a second before her eyes widened. “Missing...Kinsley...?” She spun on a heel and hurried into her office. “Do you have the account number?”
Jason rattled off a string of numbers as Randy sat and nudged her computer to life.
Charley and Jason hovered behind her as she studied the screen. “I wasn’t going to tell you no. Kinsley’s a minor. She can have an account, and she can even change the password, but I’m obligated to circumvent that if you ask.” She tapped a few more keys. “Here we are.” A few more key strokes and the screen changed to a list of banking transactions. “Here,” she said as Charley and Jason crowded closer. “Take my seat.”
“Thanks.” Charley slid into the chair and bent to the screen.
Jason extended a finger. “Look at the last two transactions.”
Charley gasped when she saw withdrawals listed for Southwest Airlines and Uber. She clicked on the first and hissed even as more of her panic ebbed. “I don’t have a good enough imagination to come up with adequate punishment.”
Jason crossed his arms, his face grim. “The good news is we have plenty of time to think about it.”
Charley nodded and dug deeper into the airline information. “Her flight number is listed.” She made a note on the pad next to the phone before clicking over to the Southwest website to search for an arrival time. She dug her phone out and scrolled through numbers. The call was answered on the third ring.
“Melissa, it’s Charley. You’re about to have company.”
***
KINSLEY STEPPED OUT of the jetway at the Houston Airport and glanced around for a quiet place to make a few phone calls. The flight she’d just come off of was headed on to Orlando, and the boarding area was packed to the walls. Families, she’d guess. Moms and dads with herds of kids in tow. Most of those kids wore Disney themed clothing of some sort and danced in line, loud with excitement and restless with impatience, eager to be on their way to the magical kingdom that lay at the end of the line. The younger ones, trapped in strollers, car seats, or parent’s arms, fussed loudly, the destination of less import than their continued confinement. One kid in particular was in the middle of his own personal meltdown. Tethered to his mom with a harness of some sort, he sank to the ground and refused to move, forcing the line to detour around him.
“No. Me tired.” Grubby hands rubbed wet, sleepy eyes as if to illustrate his words.
The woman held a toddler in her arms and looked down helplessly. “Willy, you need to get up. I promise, just as soon as we get to our seats, you can have a snack and a nap, but I can’t carry you and your sister.”
Having made this trip twice with her parents, Kinsley sent the boy some positive thoughts as she passed. Hang in there, little guy. It really is worth the trip. She shifted the heavy backpack into a more comfortable position, remembered the Oklahoma City creeper, and squared her shoulders. If she looked like she knew what she was doing, maybe she wouldn’t draw attention to herself. She joined the flow of foot traffic in the main corridor, keeping her eye out for a quiet corner, or even an exit sign. The call to her parents would not be pretty, and she’d prefer to make it in private.
“You’re going in the wrong direction.”
Kinsley jerked to a stop, and the surging mass of humanity parted around her as if she were a boulder in the midst of a creek. She turned to see Melissa standing at her side. Surprise and the knowledge that she was busted sent heat into her face.
She put on her most engaging smile and held up her phone. “I was just looking for a quiet place to call you.”
Melissa’s brows rose and she hooked a finger in the strap of the backpack and drew Kinsley out of the crowd. The expression on her face was not one of unrestrained joy.
Kinsley swallowed. “Mom and Dad called you?”
“Um hum.”
“How long ago?”
“Couple of hours.”
Kinsley slumped, half consternation at being found so quickly, half relief that she wouldn’t have to make the call to explain where she was and why. Still...Jason Bourne she wasn’t, but how had they figured it out so quickly?