By the time Jennie reached them, Chuck and Anne Stuart had gotten out of the van and were pulling out their bags.
“Mr. and Mrs. Stuart,” Jennie gasped, still out of breath from her run. “I’m so glad you’re home. We’ve been frantic. We were afraid something might have happened to you.”
“Whoa,” Chuck said, lifting a hand to stop her. He grinned at Jennie, a set of perfect white teeth showing off his tan. “Slow down, girl. Anne and I just went to the beach for a couple days.”
Jennie went still. A chill swept through her bones. Chuck had said Anne and I. Jennie glanced at the bicycle rack on the front of the car. It held only two bikes—and neither of them belonged to the children. And they only had one car.
“Hannah’s not with you?”
“No,” Anne responded. “Since you were gone when we made plans, I asked my sister to stay with Hannah. As often as Hannah and Nick play together, I’m surprised you didn’t know.”
Gram came up behind Jennie, cupping her hands on Jennie’s shoulders. She greeted the Stuarts and asked, “Then you haven’t heard?”
Anne shook her head, setting her shoulder-length straight blond hair into motion. “Heard what? What’s going on?” She had perfect hair, like Allison’s. Only Allison had the flawless face of a model. Anne looked like she’d been on too many unnecessary diets.
“Nick’s missing. The police have been looking for you. It’s been in the papers and on the news.”
“Missing?” Anne’s pale green eyes widened in alarm, taking up nearly a quarter of her face. “I thought you found him.”
“We did, the first time. But on Monday he disappeared again.”
“That’s terrible, but why would the police be looking for us?”
“We thought perhaps you’d taken Nick with you,” Gram answered.
“The last time I saw him was on Monday,” Jennie said. “He and Hannah were playing in front of your house. When I went to call Nick in for dinner he was gone.”
“Are you telling us Cathy and Hannah aren’t here either?” Chuck asked.
“I didn’t know you had a sitter,” Jennie explained. “I thought you were here and that you’d taken Hannah somewhere. No one’s been here since Monday night.”
Anne glanced up at her husband, then at the house. “We’d better call my parents. Cathy and Hannah may have gone there.”
“Could she have taken Nick, too?”
“Oh, Jennie. I doubt that.”
“Well, I don’t,” Chuck grumbled. “That airhead is liable to do anything.”
“I know you’re anxious to get in touch with your sister,” Gram said, “but I wonder if you could tell me when you left on your trip.”
“Saturday night.” Chuck’s voice had taken on a hard edge. “Actually it was Sunday morning.” He gave his wife a frosty look. “We didn’t get out of here until one in the morning.”
“I saw you leave.” That had been the night she’d come home. “But you were alone.”
“I … I wasn’t feeling well,” Anne offered apologetically. “I was lying down in the backseat.”
“We don’t want to intrude,” Gram said, giving Jennie’s shoulders a squeeze, “but do you mind if we come in while you make your phone calls? We’d like to know whether or not Cathy took both children.”
“Sure,” Chuck grumbled, making it clear that he did mind, but manners prohibited him from saying no. Anne made the first call to her sister but no one answered. She left a message and then called her parents. Worry drew deep lines in her forehead. She hung up the phone. “They haven’t heard from Cathy in over two weeks. They said to tell you both hello. They heard about Nick on the news and wanted you to know they’re praying for your family.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” Gram frowned. “Do I know your parents?”
“Oh, you may not have made the connection. My maiden name is Williams. My folks run a Bed and Breakfast in Bayview.”
“Bob and Emily. Of course.”
Jennie knew Anne’s parents, but didn’t really know all that much about their private lives. Jennie remembered meeting Cathy Williams several years ago. Ryan had known her from school. Tall, blond, and slender, Cathy resembled Anne. So Doug’s description had been accurate. Jennie had just pictured the wrong woman.
“You haven’t?” Anne’s question brought Jennie back to the present. “Are you sure?” After mumbling a thank you into the phone, Anne hung up. When she looked at her husband, the concern in her eyes had advanced to fear. “Her roommate at the college hasn’t seen Cathy since Saturday afternoon when I picked her up.” Chuck balled his hands into fists, his dark eyes narrowed in anger. “I knew we couldn’t trust her. We should have waited until Jennie could sit for us. So help me, Anne, if that screwball sister of yours has done anything to my kid, I’ll …” It seemed to take all the power Chuck Stuart had to reign in his anger. Jennie had never seen him this way. He’d always seemed pleasant. But then Jennie knew firsthand how easily fear and worry could turn to anger.
Gram stepped toward Chuck and placed a hand on his arm. “Mr. Stuart,” she said, in a calm and steady tone. “I can understand how upset you must be. Cathy may have taken the children, but the possibility remains that she and the children may be in danger. I suggest you put aside your differences and call the police.”
Gram’s no-nonsense approach seemed to settle him. “You’re right.” He lowered himself into the nearest chair and rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry. The thought of losing my little girl …”
“D—do you want to call?” Anne stammered as she picked up the phone. Her hands were shaking so hard, she nearly dropped it again. “Or do you want me—”
Chuck grabbed the phone from her. “I’ll do it.” At the same time he stood and placed an arm around her shoulders. “You’d better sit down. You look like you’re ready to collapse.”
Anne lifted her shoulders like a turtle retreating into its shell. She left Chuck’s side and sank into the couch. The cushions nearly swallowed her slender frame.
Fifteen minutes later, a female officer Jennie hadn’t seen before responded to the Stuarts’ call. After questioning them, she went out to her cruiser and radioed in a report.
Dozens of new questions surfaced. The most pressing one lodged in Jennie’s mind centered around Anne’s sister. Had Cathy Williams taken the children? Why? From the conversation, Jennie had pieced together a picture of Cathy. Cathy Williams, 19, sophomore at Pacific University in Forest Grove. Good grades, no priors, not even a suspicious boyfriend, that Anne knew of anyway.
“We should be going.” Gram nudged Jennie. “I’m sure you’ll be wanting to get unpacked.”
Jennie wasn’t ready to leave, but obediently followed Gram to the door.
“I’m curious.” Gram stepped onto the porch and turned back to Anne and Chuck. “It seems rather odd that you’d leave for your trip so late at night.”
“Chuck’s been working evenings at the store. Since he had to catch up with some paperwork before he could leave, he didn’t get home Saturday until almost midnight.”
“It’s no mystery.” Chuck appeared behind Anne. “I like to get as much time at the place I’m staying as possible. I also like to rest several hours before I have to go back to work. And I do need to work this afternoon.” He started to close the door. “So, if you’ll excuse me. I’d like to get some rest.”
“Of course.” Gram turned to go, then back again. “Oh, just one more thing. What beach did you say you’d gone to?”
A look of irritation crossed Chuck’s handsome features. “I didn’t say. And frankly, I resent your questions.”
“Chuck, please,” Anne interrupted. “We have nothing to hide. We were staying at a private cottage near Manzanita.” The door closed, abruptly ending the conversation.
As they were leaving, Jennie tossed Gram an admiring look. “You reminded me of a detective back there.” She slouched her shoulders, squinted one eye, and lowered her voice. “‘Oh, one more thing.’” In her normal tone she asked, “Why were you asking them so many questions?”
Gram smiled. “Once a detective always a detective. I’m not really sure why I questioned them. Habit, I guess. And intuition. Something isn’t right between those two. I’m sure you noticed it too.”
Jennie nodded. “They were both acting strange. But what about Cathy? Do you think she could have taken the kids?”
“It’s hard to say. According to Anne, no. But Chuck seems to think otherwise. We’ll just have to see what the police turn up.”
“The Stuarts are back,” Jennie informed her mother as she and Gram entered the kitchen. The matter-of-fact tone in her voice surprised her. “Hannah and Anne’s sister, Cathy, might be missing too.”
“I know. Officer Beck came to talk with me while you were over there.” Mom sounded detached, like she’d closed herself away. Jennie couldn’t blame her.
“Where is everyone?” Jennie asked.
“Kevin and Michael are out with search teams—I’m not sure where. Kate’s gone to the store.” Mom brushed her hair from her forehead with the back of her hand. “Oh, Helen, that reminds me. J.B. had to leave. He wants you to call him at the office.”
“I hope they’re not sending him on another assignment. Not now.” She sighed, finger-brushing her newly cut salt and pepper hair. “I suppose I’d better call.” Gram pulled her cell phone from her pocket and went into the living room to make her call.
With J.B. working for the FBI, his urgent call could have been about anything. She just hoped it wasn’t bad news about Nick.
Not sure what she should do next, Jennie watched her mother cut up a chunk of meat for stew. “Are you going out again?” Mom asked.
“They’re searching in so many places, I don’t know where to go.”
“Lisa called earlier. She’s at Crystal Lake with Allison and B.J. …” Jennie didn’t wait for her mother to finish. The message had given her direction.
Two hundred people had volunteered to help in the widening search. The police had gotten dozens of phone calls in response to the radio and television newscasts and flyers. Searchers covered several parks in the area, but most of them—Jennie and her friends included—shifted their focus to a three hundred and fifty acre section of woods five miles away. Someone had reported seeing a boy fitting Nick’s description near there. The boy had been riding a bike. The blood hounds hadn’t picked up Nick’s scent, but the description had been so close, the police decided to search the area anyway.
At the twenty-four-hour point, authorities declared Cathy and the children officially missing. By nightfall, most of the volunteers had gone home to their families. A few, those groups prepared to work in shifts, would continue to search through the night. None of the leads had panned out, and they were no closer to finding Nick than they had been when they discovered him missing.
Jennie had gone back to the Crystal Lake area around 8:30 and had spent the last hour at the park watching divers scour the lake. Lisa hadn’t left her side all day. Neither had B.J. and Allison until a few minutes before when they’d apologized for leaving and gotten into the black sedan Mr. Beaumont had sent. They’d offered Jennie and Lisa a ride, but Jennie declined.
Michael had been there too, holding his breath along with the others whenever a diver brought up an article of clothing, an old boot, a toy. “Come on, girls,” he said. “We’d better get back to the house. I promised your mothers I’d have you in by ten—it’s almost that now.”
The scene was like a rerun of the night before. They were even using the same words. “You girls want a ride?”
“No thanks,” Jennie said. “I need to walk.”
Lisa groaned. “We’ve been walking all day.”
“You go ahead. I’ll meet you back at the house.”
Before Michael could object to Jennie’s being alone, Lisa conceded. “No. I’ll come with you.”
When Michael had gone, Jennie dragged in a deep breath of cool crisp air. The temperature had dropped from the high eighties to the mid-sixties. Not cold, but enough to make her shiver. “Want to run?”
“Sure, why not. I’m too exhausted to walk.”
As they ran, Jennie let her mind drift back over the events since Nick’s disappearance. Why weren’t they finding anything? “Maybe we’re not trying hard enough,” she murmured, wishing she could think more clearly.
“Did you say something?”
“No … yes.” Jennie paused at Magnolia and Elm to check for traffic. “This searching isn’t getting us anywhere. Maybe we’re not trying hard enough.” Jennie sprinted the last few yards across her lawn and stumbled on the front porch steps. Instead of getting up, she turned around and sat on them.
“Not trying …” Lisa gasped, dropping down beside her. “How can you say that?”
“I know, everybody’s been working hard, but it’s not enough. There has to be something …” Jennie stopped to listen. “What was that?”
“What? I didn’t hear anything.” Lisa stiffened.
“It sounded like someone crying.”
“Jennie, in case you haven’t noticed, everyone around here has been crying.”
“No, not like that.” Jennie heard it again, a faint whimpering sound. “It’s coming from over there.” She sprang from the porch and began searching through the shrubs lining the porch. Lisa followed suit, starting at the corner and working back toward Jennie.
“Jennie … I think you’d better come here.” The catch in Lisa’s voice hit Jennie with knife-sharp accuracy. Jennie didn’t even want to think about what her cousin may have found. When Jennie reached her, Lisa was down on her hands and knees in front of the large rhododendron that stood at the corner of the house. “Under there.”
Jennie dropped to her hands and knees and crawled under the dense shrub to the cavernous open area inside. Her hand touched something furry. “Is it him?” Lisa asked, spreading the branches to afford Jennie some light.
Jennie closed her eyes hoping what she’d seen wasn’t real. She opened them again. Her stomach recoiled, threatening to empty its contents. Bernie lay curled in a heap, his once brown and white fur matted with dried blood.