ten

I spent the rest of the afternoon working on payroll and trying not to obsess about Rainbow. I’d spent twenty minutes combing the streets for her after I left Teen Path HOME, to no avail. She’d blended back into the cityscape as if she’d never existed.

I knew Gabriel wouldn’t approve of my search, but that didn’t stop me. Rainbow was in trouble, and not just because of her step­father or the gun she likely carried on her person. She’d been upset about something in class, long before her stepfather arrived.

By the time I left my home office at five o’clock to head for the studio, the day’s overcast skies had darkened to charcoal. Some Like It Hot Yoga’s Ten Classes for Ten Dollars! sign turned my mood the same color. If I didn’t come up with a brilliant new marketing strategy, ten dollars would soon be my bank account balance.

When I arrived at the studio, Tiffany was watering the plants in the lobby. She wore leopard-print yoga pants and a form-fitting T-shirt with the words Three Months Down, Six to Go written across her lower belly. She noticed my gaze and ran her fingertips along the words. “Chad bought me this. I’m actually only at ten weeks, so it’s a little early for me to start wearing my pregnancy like a billboard. But it makes Chad happy, so I figured what the hell. I’m young. What are the chances that something will go wrong?” Her face turned bright red. “I mean, not that you’re old … ”

I placed my hand on hers. “I get it. I’m happy for you, remember?”

She furrowed her brow. “Well you certainly don’t look happy. Is everything okay?”

“Honestly? No.” I shared what had happened earlier at Teen Path HOME.

“That crew cut guy sounds like a real jerk,” Tiffany said. “If he finds her again, will she seriously have to go home with him?”

“Gabriel and I talked about it afterwards. If he’s really her stepfather, she probably will.”

“You’re kidding.”

I shrugged. “It’s the law. Gabriel was upset, but he said there wasn’t anything he could do about it.”

“But you said that guy was going to hit her!”

“It sure looked that way, but he never actually touched her. If he does hit her, or if Rainbow says that he has in the past, Gabriel will arrange for the police to take her to a foster home, at least temporarily.”

Tiffany shuddered. “From what I hear, that may be worse.”

I’d heard the same thing, but I didn’t want to think about it. Ignorance is bliss, right?

Four hours and two drop-in classes later, I ushered my final students out the front door. The clouds had stopped threatening, choosing instead to douse the sidewalks in icy sheets of rain. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

That was my cue to hurry home. Bella, for all her bravado, was terrified of thunder. Mouse was great for separation anxiety, but thunder phobia required human comfort.

I was halfway out the back door when I heard a tentative knock at the front. Selfish Kate urged me to keep going. Ignore it. You closed five minutes ago.

But how could I? What if one of my students had forgotten something important, like her house keys? “Hang on, Bella,” I muttered to the empty space.

I hurried back through the lobby and glanced out the window. A waterlogged teenager waved at me. What was Rainbow doing here? Wet hair was plastered against her scalp like a blonde helmet. Water poured in rivulets down her face.

She knocked again. “Kate, I can see you standing there. Let me in. I’m freezing.”

Three reproachful voices vied for dominance in my head. Dad led off with a stern admonition: Don’t let her in. If you give shelter to a known runaway without calling the police, you’re guilty of harboring a minor. Gabriel added, You have to keep strict boundaries. All off-site contact with minors is strictly prohibited. Dharma used Gabriel’s own words against him: Don’t let what you can’t do stop you from doing what you can.

Like Dad always said, I was my mother’s daughter. Prohibitions notwithstanding, someone needed to help Rainbow. Why shouldn’t that someone be me? I couldn’t fundamentally change the teen’s plight, but I could at least get her out of that storm. As for calling the police? They’d either ship her back home or slap her in foster care. Rainbow had risked reaching out to me, but her trust was fragile. If I blew it tonight, there would be no second chances.

Okay, Dharma. You win.

I unlocked the deadbolt and ushered her inside. Rain dripped from her jacket, forming dark blue splotches on the carpet.

“Wait here a second,” I said. “Let’s get you dried off, then we’ll talk.” I snatched a roll of paper towels from the restroom and tossed them to her. “I’m glad to see you. I was worried about you. But how did you know where to find me?”

Her teeth chattered. “You gave me your business card. I know it’s lame to show up like this, but I didn’t know where else to go. Jace took off with the tent, and I can’t stay with any of my friends near the center. My stepfather might find me again.”

“Would that be so terrible?”

She flinched. “I can’t go back to him. I won’t. I’ll kill myself first.”

My stomach lurched. “Don’t say things like that, Rainbow. Don’t even think them.” I paused. “Your boyfriend took off with your belongings?”

“The tent isn’t mine, it’s his. Jace isn’t my boyfriend anymore, either. He won’t pick up my calls, and he’s blocked me on social media.”

“What happened?”

She balled up the wet paper towels and tossed them into the garbage can. “Does it matter? He’s gone, and our camping supplies are gone with him. Now I really am homeless.” She shivered. “Tonight, of all nights.”

“Can you stay at a shelter?”

“I can’t risk it. I look too young. If they figure out I’m under eighteen, they’ll call the police.” Thunder clapped in the distance. Rainbow buried her face in her hands. “I’m so totally hosed.”

I poured a cup of hot water from the dispenser, added a bag of chamomile tea and two packets of sugar, and handed it to her. Rainbow held the cup in both hands, inhaling its sweet, floral steam. Her hands trembled.

“Honestly,” I said. “I don’t know what you should do either.”

There had to be a solution, but damned if I could come up with one at the moment. I couldn’t leave a homeless teen alone overnight at the studio, not without getting an earful from the teacher who opened at six the next morning. Perhaps Rainbow could spend the night in the covered garage. It would be cold, but at least she’d be dry. Dharma’s voice chastised me. Come on, Kate. You know the security guards will toss her out before midnight. You can do better than that.

She was right. November in Seattle wasn’t Juneau in January, but it was cold outside tonight. Wet, bone-chillingly cold. The city council might be turning a benevolent blind eye to the area’s homeless encampments, but private security forces were not. Rainbow would be forced back onto the streets long before dawn.

I couldn’t leave her on the studio’s property, and I couldn’t send her back out into the storm. Which left me with one final idea. An idea that would likely mean losing my job at Teen Path HOME

So be it.

I sighed. “Okay, you can come home with me and sleep on my couch.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Kate, I—”

I held up my second and third fingers, stopping her. “On two conditions. One: You can’t tell anyone I did this, and two: it’s only for tonight. We’ll come up with another plan in the morning. I have a friend who might help.” By “friend,” I meant my mother’s boyfriend, Dale Evans.

“Your friend’s not a cop, is he? If you call the cops, they’ll make me go home.”

“Not a cop. An attorney.” Calling Dale a mere attorney was a vast understatement, although these days Dale spent most of his time running Dale’s Goats and Dharma’s Asses, an animal rescue on Orcas Island. But prior to moving to Orcas, Dale had been a legal legend. Suffice it to say that anyone who convinced Dale to represent them usually got off, even if they were guilty. I had no idea whether or not Dale had ever represented a runaway, but he had plenty of local contacts. If he couldn’t personally help Rainbow, he could connect her with someone who could. Tomorrow night’s dinner would give me the perfect opportunity to quiz him. For once, the universe was on my side.

I glanced at Rainbow’s backpack. “Actually, there’s a third condition. Before I take you anywhere, I need to know something. Was your stepfather telling the truth? Do you have a gun?”

She tightened her grip on the pack. “Scary stuff happens out there. I need to protect myself.”

“Do you even know how to use it?”

The teen looked affronted. “Of course! If I didn’t know how to use it, I never would have taken it. My mom’s husband is a creepy ghoul, but he’s ex-Marine. Glock is his middle name. His version of stepfather-stepdaughter bonding happened at the shooting range.”

“Is the gun loaded?

“It’s not much good to me if it isn’t.”

She had a point.

“You won’t need to protect yourself in my home,” I replied. “Take the gun out of your pack and unload it.”

Rainbow shook her head. “No way I’m going to—”

“This is not up for discussion.” The sternness in my voice wasn’t faked. “I will not allow you to bring a loaded gun into my home.” I pointed at the rain cascading down the glass door. “If you don’t like it, you can sleep out there.” I paused for a count of three, then softened my tone. “You came to me, remember? You have to trust me.”

She reluctantly unzipped her pack and pulled out a black, semiautomatic handgun. She pressed a button. The clip dropped into her palm. “There, happy?”

I’d never carried, but Dad had taught me plenty about handguns. “Now the one in the chamber.”

Rainbow frowned, but she racked the slide twice. A bullet fell to the ground.

“Pick that up,” I ordered. I reached out my hand. “Give me the gun. I’ll keep it tonight.”

“How do I know you won’t shoot me with it?”

“You’ve got the ammunition.”

She hesitated, then handed me the revolver. I slid it inside my purse.

“You’re going to give it back to me, right?”

I didn’t speak, but the answer was probably not. I couldn’t let a sixteen-year-old teenager carry a stolen gun. But before I admitted that, I needed to speak with Dale. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. For now, my only goal is to keep both of us safe.”

Rainbow’s doubts notwithstanding, my intentions were honorable.

Just like the ones paving the road straight to hell.

I coached Rainbow on the drive back to Ballard. “My husband’s a good guy, but he doesn’t like surprises, especially if he thinks I’m getting involved in something that’s none of my business. Let me do the talking and don’t tell him about the gun, okay?”

She nodded.

“You got along pretty well with my German shepherd last week, so I think you’ll be fine. But since you’re coming onto her territory, I can’t be sure. If she barks or lunges at you, stand completely still and I’ll grab her.”

“Don’t worry about Bella,” Rainbow replied. “She and I are buddies. She won’t bark at me, and even if she does, I won’t care. I already told you. I’m good with animals. I was going to be a veterinarian.”

“Was?”

Her expression remained carefully neutral, but her voice quavered. “High school dropouts don’t get into vet school, even if they ace the GED.”

“Don’t give up on your future so quickly.”

“I don’t have a future. Not anymore.” She turned away and stared out the passenger-side window, firmly closing the door on our conversation. We rode the rest of the way in silence.

I parked in the driveway behind Michael’s SUV and said a quick prayer, asking for my husband to be in a good mood. Rainbow and I entered the living room to the tangy smell of homemade marinara and Michael’s off-key rendition of ABBA’s “Dancing Queen.” Cooking and singing. A good sign.

I tossed my purse and the car keys onto the sofa and called, “Hey sweetie, I’m home!”

Michael’s voice came from the kitchen. “You’re late. I decided to cook us a late-night dinner, but I expected you home half an hour ago. The pasta is mush.”

Bella slinked into the living room, ears plastered down on her head, obviously stressed about the thunder. But then she spied Rainbow and her body language transformed. Her ears lifted; her rear wiggled. She planted her paws on Rainbow’s shoulders and swept her black-spotted tongue across the teen’s cheeks.

Rainbow grinned and scratched Bella’s ribs. “Told you she likes me,” she whispered.

Michael continued belting out lyrics in an off-key contralto. I motioned for Rainbow to follow me to the kitchen.

She glanced inside the room and stifled a giggle. “Chuck would have a heart attack at this mess.”

Diced red onions, green peppers, and fragrant fresh basil covered the floor. Homemade tomato sauce dotted the walls and dripped from the light above the stove. Spaghetti noodles adhered to the wall like stranded earthworms drying on pavement. Almost two years of living together and I still couldn’t believe Michael could create such delicious food out of so much chaos. An unopened bottle of red wine sat on the table: his low-key way of asking if I still might be pregnant. He bent over the oven and pulled out a loaf of home-baked garlic bread.

I picked up the bottle and slid it back into the wine rack. “No wine for me tonight.”

“Really?” He turned toward me, face split in a huge grin. Then his gaze landed on Rainbow. He took in her worn clothes, her wet hair. The dirt trapped underneath her fingernails. The grin flattened, landing somewhere between a smile and a grimace. “I see you brought company.” His eyes clearly telegraphed the question, Who is this and what is she doing here?

I smiled and mouthed the word later.

Out loud, I said, “Michael, this is Rainbow. I invited her to stay overnight with us tonight.”

Michael’s smile remained frozen in place, but the small muscles next to his jaw quivered. He pointed to the cupboard. “Welcome, Rainbow. Grab a plate. Silverware is in the drawer underneath the cutting board. Iced tea’s in the fridge.” When Rainbow’s back was turned, he gave me a dark look and mouthed, Later indeed.

“Can you keep dinner warm for a couple more minutes?” I asked. “We need to get Rainbow out of these wet clothes and into something warm.” I moved next to him, gave him a peck on the cheek, and whispered, “Be nice. She’s had a tough day.”

I led Rainbow upstairs to Michael’s and my bedroom, where I tossed her jeans, a warm sweatshirt, and a pair of bright green Sea­hawks slipper socks. “Put these on in the bathroom and bring your wet clothes back out. I’ll wait here.”

She wrinkled her eyebrows. “Afraid to leave me alone?”

“Not at all.” Truthfully, I was afraid to face Michael, but I chose not to share that information.

When she reemerged, her face was clean; her fingernails, less grimy. My jeans hung low on her thin hips, but the hems still ended two inches above her ankles. The slipper socks bulged unfashionably up her calves, but at least she looked warm.

“Let’s go throw your outfit into the laundry,” I said.

That task complete, we joined Michael in the kitchen, where Rainbow downed three large helpings of overcooked pasta while Michael and I picked at our plates in awkward silence. When she stood and carried her plate to the sink, I turned to my husband. “Rainbow and I will do the dishes, Michael. Why don’t you relax with Bella in the living room?” My words were polite, but we both knew what I was actually saying. Get out of here and leave us alone to talk. Michael gave me a you’ll-pay-for-this-later look, but he acquiesced.

I filled the sink with sudsy water, washed the first plate, and handed it to Rainbow to dry. According to Gabriel, teens at the center opened up when their hands were busy creating artwork. I hoped drying dishes would have a similar effect.

“Rainbow’s not your real name, is it?” I asked.

“No. I figured it would be harder to track me down if I made up something new. I like Rainbow better than my real name, though. It sounds like my life still has hope.”

“There’s always hope.”

She rolled her eyes and put the plate in the cupboard.

“So, are you going to tell me your real name?” I asked.

She shrugged. “No reason not to. The drill sergeant’s already found me. It’s Rain. Rain Roads.”

“By drill sergeant, I assume you mean your stepfather,” I said.

“Who else?”

“What’s going on between you two, anyway?”

“He’s a sleazy slimebag, that’s what’s going on.”

I frowned. “Can you be more specific?”

“He can’t hold down a job, and he’s got a terrible temper.”

I thought of my own history of anger management issues. “Lots of people get angry.”

“Not like Dean does. He’s a mean drunk, and he drinks a lot.”

“That’s his name? Dean?”

Rainbow shuddered, as if hearing the name gave her the willies. “Yes, and he’s a bloodsucking leach. He drank Mom’s money and drained what was left of her self-confidence. I never understood why she put up with his crap. I guess she figured he was the best she could do.”

She shrugged with an indifference that seemed affected. “I’m no better. I settled with Jace, though I actually believed he might love me. I never would have left Tacoma with him otherwise.” She scoffed. “I won’t make that mistake again. How could anyone love me? I’m too broken.”

I considered placing my hand on her shoulder, but I wasn’t sure how she’d receive my touch. “You’re not broken, Rainbow. Not even close. Bruised, maybe, but not broken.”

I meant it. Rainbow’s energy didn’t have the hard edge of someone beyond help. At least part of her was still reachable.

“How long have Dean and your mom been married?” I asked.

“Two years, three months, and eleven days. Not that I’m counting.”

“That’s a long time for you to live with someone you don’t like.”

“It wasn’t always this bad. When Mom and Dean were both just drunks, she shielded me from the worst of it. But since she’s graduated to heroin, she’s hardly ever home.”

“Your mom’s a heroin addict?”

Rainbow flashed a tough smile, but she couldn’t disguise the vulnerability in her voice. “You didn’t think I grew up with the Bradys, did you?”

I ignored the comment and handed her a serving spoon. “Does your stepfather use heroin too?”

“G. I. Joe? Use drugs? No way. He’s Jim Beam and Budweiser all the way. It was the one thing Dean and I could agree on. We both hate heroin.” Rainbow opened the silverware drawer and slid the dried spoon inside. We continued cleaning silverware, piece by piece.

“You’ve had to deal with a lot for someone so young.”

“I suppose so. Mom’s boyfriends always knocked her around some, but Dean’s by far the worst, especially when she’s using.”

“He hits her?”

Rainbow shrugged. “Like I said, he’s a mean drunk. That’s why she takes off. So she can shoot up in peace.”

“If she’s gone so much, how does she hold down a job?”

“She doesn’t.”

“But if Dean doesn’t work … ”

“They live off Mom’s allowance.”

“Allowance?”

“That’s what she calls it. It’s my grandparents’ money. They died in a car accident when I was five.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. I still miss them.”

I considered my own childhood memories with Dharma. More specifically, my lack of childhood memories. Dharma left when I was a toddler, and I had no recollection of our brief time together. “You were only five when your grandparents died. You remember them?”

“Definitely. I practically lived with them.”

I gave her a questioning look.

“Mom’s always liked to party, so she dumped me with them a lot. According to her, they were judgmental jerks, but I loved them, and they did right by us. They left Mom the house and their life savings.”

“Why does she call it an allowance?”

“Because they tied everything up in a trust. Mom gets monthly deposits for our living expenses, but if she wants anything extra, she has to ask the trustee, and he usually says no. She hates Grandma and Grandpa for that, but I think they were smart. If she’d gotten the money all at once, she’d have shot it up her veins by now.”

I calculated eleven years of living expenses in my head. “That must be quite the trust fund.”

“What you mean?”

“It’s supported both of you since you were five.”

She shrugged. “Mom’s not rich or anything, but it puts food on the table. When it’s not enough, Mom does tricks or the drill sergeant takes on odd jobs. I wanted to get a job, too, but Mom wouldn’t let me. She says my contribution is keeping my grades up.”

For the first time, I wondered if Rainbow might be deceiving me. The mother she described didn’t seem like the type to care about grades. Then again, what family wasn’t eccentric?

“Your home life seems tough,” I said. “I’m sorry about that. But living on the streets can’t be much easier. Why did you run?”

Rainbow closed the silverware drawer and reached for a sauce pan. “Mom was gone too long this time. She’s been on benders before, but only for a day or two. Three at the most. By the time I left, she was gone over two weeks. I tried to find her, but she wasn’t in any of her normal places. That was almost three months ago. I was planning to go back when she did.”

“How do you know she’s not back already?”

“When she isn’t strung out, she’s not a terrible mother. If she’d come home and I wasn’t there, she would have messaged me on Instagram, especially now that school’s in session.”

“She wouldn’t call you?”

“My cell phone stopped working shortly after I ran. The one I have now is a burner. Mom doesn’t have the number.” There was a long pause. When the teen spoke again, her voice was so soft, I could barely hear it. “I’m afraid she’s so far gone now that she’ll never come back. I can’t live with Dean if she’s not there.”

“Living with your stepfather is that hard?” I asked.

“It’s unbearable.”

I lowered my voice. “Rainbow, does he hit you?”

“Sometimes, but I can handle that.”

I consciously kept my expression neutral, but my entire body vibrated. “What can’t you handle?”

She didn’t answer, at least not directly. “I used to sneak out to see Jace sometimes. Dean caught me, and he took the lock off my room. He claimed he did it because he needed to keep an eye on me.” She finished drying the pan and set it on the stove. “I woke up the next night, and he was standing over my bed, staring at me.”

“Did he … ” I was afraid to finish the question.

Rainbow twisted the dish towel between her hands. “No. I screamed, and he left. But I wasn’t about to give him a second chance. Jace and I took off the next day.”

I stared into her eyes, trying to discern whether or not she was telling the truth. The shadows behind them indicated that she wasn’t, at least not completely. I suspected, however, that any lies were ones of omission. Her real story might be worse.

“Rainbow, you have rights. If your stepfather hurt you, we can call Child Protective Services. You won’t have to go back to him.”

“So I can get stuck in the foster system? I’m better off on the street.”

I wasn’t so sure. “What about your biological father?”

“What about him? Mom got pregnant at sixteen, and she wasn’t exactly the Virgin Mary. She has no idea who my bio dad is. For most of my life, it was just Mom and me. Then it was Mom, me, and Master Sergeant Sicko. Now it’s just me.”

She tossed the towel on the counter. “I’m tired of talking. Are we done here?”

The answer, of course, was no. We weren’t even close to finished. But I’d already pushed Rainbow pretty hard. One more nudge and I might lose her. “Sure. Let’s grab some sheets, and I’ll make up the sofa bed for you. It’s actually pretty comfortable.”

It was a great plan. Or it would have been, if Michael hadn’t been pacing the living room like a caged mountain lion. Bella lay near the fireplace, eyes worriedly tracking him.

“Michael, would you please grab a set of clean sheets? Rainbow’s ready for bed.” Her real name, Rain, still felt foreign to me.

Michael stopped pacing and glared. “Kate, I need to talk to you.” He paused for emphasis. “Alone.” Another pause. “Now.”

Rainbow tensed. I smiled, hoping to reassure her. “Your clothes are probably done washing. Why don’t you toss them in the dryer? There are fresh sheets in the linen closet upstairs.” I pointed to the sofa. “Pull this out and make it up. Michael and I will chat in the office. We’ll only be a few minutes.”

She glanced at the front door, as if mentally planning an escape route.

“You’re safe here,” I assured her. “I promise.”

Michael marched into the office. Mouse awoke from her nap on the desk, growled at Michael, hiss-spat at me, then tore into the living room. “Don’t try to touch the cat, Rainbow!” I called. “She’s not as nice as Bella.”

I turned to close the door, then reconsidered and left it halfway open. If Rainbow decided to bolt, I wanted to hear it.

Michael lowered his voice, but his tone was decidedly cranky. “Who is that kid and why is she staying at our house?”

I told Michael everything that I knew so far. That I’d met Rainbow at Teen Path HOME, that she was a sixteen-year-old runaway from Tacoma, that her boyfriend had taken off with their camping supplies, that her mother was missing, and that she’d had an altercation with her abusive stepfather today.

“How do you know anything she told you is true?” he asked.

“I guess I don’t. But what was I supposed to do? She was soaked, and it’s freezing outside. Would you seriously want me to leave her out there alone?” Michael didn’t answer. “Besides, Bella likes her. I trust Bella.”

“Are you insane? Bella’s a dog! She hates Sam, for god’s sake. Sam’s one of the nicest people we know.”

“That’s different. Sam has a mustache.” My words sounded ridiculous, but I believed them. Bella had her share of quirks. She sometimes hated perfectly nice people for no discernible reason. But the reverse had never been true. Put simply, Bella wasn’t fond of everyone, but when she did like someone, they deserved to be liked. Period.

“Didn’t your billfold get stolen at that teen center?” Michael asked. “Are you positive this Rainbow kid didn’t take it?”

“You’re right, Michael. Rainbow might have stolen my wallet. Or someone else might have taken it. Or I might have lost it. Or it might be in my car somewhere. What does it matter? What do we have in this house that’s worth taking? Food? The thirty bucks or so we have in cash?” I pointed to my ancient computer. “She won’t get any money hocking this, and it’s worth twice as much as our television. Do you have a hidden stash of gold somewhere you haven’t told me about?” Three silent seconds passed. “Look, I’m not saying that we should keep Rainbow here permanently. Just a few days until I—”

“A few days!” Michael exclaimed. “Kate, listen to yourself. That girl is a teenage runaway. Keeping her here is illegal. We could get charged for harboring a minor and lord knows what else. If she won’t go back to her family, you have to call the police.”

I shook my head. “No. I promised to help her.”

“And you will. By connecting her with the authorities.”

I didn’t reply, but the look I gave him spoke volumes.

“Kate, be reasonable. Say we keep her here for a day, a week, even a month. How does that help her? She’ll end up back on the streets. You know that.”

Unfortunately, I did.

Michael grasped my shoulders in both hands. “We have to be the adults here. If Rainbow’s being abused at home, Child Protective Services will get involved. They deal with these kinds of situations every day. We don’t. You need to leave it to the professionals.”

I hated what Michael was saying, mainly because I knew he was right. I stared at the carpet, willing myself to come up with a different solution. I couldn’t.

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay what?”

I met his eyes, frustrated. “Okay, I’ll call the police, but—”

A sound halfway between a sob and a squeak came from the doorway. A betrayed-looking Rainbow stood behind the partially closed door, clutching my feral calico tightly against her chest.

My first reaction was astonishment. How did she manage to pick up Mouse without needing stitches?

My second was horror. How much of Michael’s and my conversation had Rainbow overheard? How much had she misunderstood?

I’d been about to tell Michael that I’d call the police, but not until tomorrow, after Dale and Dharma arrived, and only if Rainbow agreed. I’d hoped that together, we could come up with a plan that was truly in Rainbow’s best interests.

Rainbow’s voice shook. “You lied. You promised me, no cops.” She set the cat on the floor and backed two steps away. Mouse hissed at me, then bolted.

I took a cautious step toward her. “You didn’t let me finish.”

“Don’t come near me,” she yelled. “You lied to me, just like Jace!” She reached for the doorknob and pulled. The door slammed between us.

Michael and I stared at each other, mouths open in surprised guilt.

“Well, that went well,” I said drolly. “Any other great ideas?” A second door slammed, and I jumped. “The front door! She’s running.”

By the time we got to the living room, Rainbow—and her backpack—were gone. Bella stood on her hind legs, scratching at the front door and whining. Rain flooded the windows.

“Michael, she doesn’t have a coat.” Rainbow’s clothes, including her coat, were still whirling around in my dryer.

“We’ll find her,” he said.

We grabbed our jackets, clipped on Bella’s leash, and jogged out to the sidewalk. I kneeled next to my canine buddy, soaking my knees in icy rainwater. “Which way did she go, girl?”

Bella cocked her head and stared at me, bewildered.

Out of sheer desperation, I tried a different command. “Find it!”

As trained, Bella dropped her nose to the ground and searched for a cookie.

“She doesn’t know what you want, Kate.”

“We have to do something.”

Michael pointed at my Honda. “Rainbow can’t have gotten far. Get your keys and we’ll drive around and look for her.”

Michael and Bella searched our neighbors’ yards while I ran inside to grab my car keys. My purse sat on the floor, next to the opened sofa bed. I rummaged through it, pulling out items one at a time. Lip gloss, chewing gum, wallet, keys. “Yes!” I examined them more carefully and groaned. Damn. The studio keys. I continued searching. Hairbrush, wallet, pens …

I froze.

Wallet?

I laid the second wallet next to the first. The first one was new, almost empty. This one was worn. It bulged with business cards, credit cards, and miscellaneous grocery receipts. Everything except the cash was still there. I pulled out the beloved photo of Dad, Dharma, and me, and held it to my lips.

Rainbow had stolen my wallet. She must have had it in her pack all along. Why had she kept it? Better yet, why had she gone inside my purse to put it back?

I realized the answer to the second question, and my stomach dropped to my knees. Oh no. The gun. I’d been so concerned about my keys that I hadn’t noticed Rainbow’s gun was missing. She must have snagged it while Michael and I were arguing in the office. How could I have been stupid enough to leave her alone with my purse?

Michael opened the door. “Kate! Are you coming?”

My husband was a strict gun control advocate. Now wasn’t the time to admit that I’d brought a semiautomatic into our house. Especially a semiautomatic that was now missing. “I can’t find my keys.”

He pointed to my left. “Isn’t that them on the end table?”

Damn. They’d been there all along. Rainbow must have tossed them on the end table when she pulled out the sofa bed. I scooped them up and joined Michael at the door. “Let’s go.”

Michael, Bella, and I drove around Ballard for over an hour, but we didn’t find Rainbow. I shouldn’t have been surprised. A few-block walk any direction would have taken her to a bus stop. A couple of bucks or the flash of a Metro pass, and she could be anywhere.

But would it be somewhere dry?

My conscience plagued me. Rainbow wasn’t dressed to spend the night outside in this deluge. With no coat and no shelter, would she even survive?

We finally gave up and went home. I gathered Rainbow’s now-dry clothes, my stash of vegan protein bars, and the fifty-seven dollars in cash Michael and I had between us and placed it all inside a plastic container. I set the container on the doorstep and taped a sign with the word Rainbow on top, like a frightened pet parent trying to lure home a runaway kitten. I deluded myself that she’d find it. Maybe she hadn’t gone far. Maybe she was hiding nearby, watching Michael and me.

When I got up at seven the next morning, the prior night’s rain had moved on, replaced by dense, eerie fog. The plastic container still sat, unopened, on my doorstep.

Michael placed his hand on my shoulder. “Maybe she had another coat in her backpack.”

“Maybe.” I doubted it, though. A second coat would have taken up too much room. I hoped she still had the money she’d stolen from me. If she had money, she could at least get a hot meal.

Michael left for Pete’s Pet’s at seven-thirty. He promised to drive around the neighborhood to look for Rainbow, then gave me a sheepish look. “I know you’ll probably spend most of the day searching for her. I want to find her, too. But don’t forget that Dale and Dharma are coming in from Orcas Island tonight. They’ll be here by five.”

I promised to be home by four-thirty. I ground and incubated Bella’s kibble, fed a tin of organic tuna cat food to Mouse, and checked that damned container at least five hundred times. At nine, I opened it up again, took out the cash, and returned the rest of my offering to the doorstep. If Rainbow came back, she’d at least get the clothes and the food. I needed the money for parking.

Bella danced near her leash as I shrugged on my coat, clearly hoping to come with me.

I ruffled her ears. “Sorry, Bella. You’ll have to let Mouse entertain you. Only service dogs are allowed.” I left my disappointed canine buddy behind and headed for Teen Path HOME.