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September ran from the crowded stage. A lost child trumped anything Mom had planned. No time to discuss or explain, especially with Steven within earshot. She couldn’t guess how much her nephew remembered about his ordeal. No need to remind him.
"Let's go, Shadow, time for car ride." He woofed and pranced and she let him off the leash. Thunder rattled the building again, but this time he didn't react. His earlier fearful behavior she ascribed to the strange place and crowd. September regretted leaving Harmony behind, but trusted Parker would lock the cello in the box office until she could collect her.
As they left the building, the sky dumped buckets of rain. Heavy winds pushed water into waves skittering across the pavement and sheets lashed her tangled hair. Crap. It had been cloudy and warm when she arrived, so she'd left her coat in the car. With no other choice, the pair ducked and ran to September's SUV parked half a block away. She thumbed the key-lock, waited for Shadow to leap into the back seat, slammed his door and then dove into the front.
Wicked gusts caught the driver's door and it took two tries to slam it shut. Cold water poured down September's neck, and she swiped her face with a drenched sleeve. In the back seat, Shadow shook, splattering the inside of the car.
"Gee thanks, baby-dog." In response, he wagged, slicked back his ears and poked his nose through the metal grill that kept him from claiming the driver's seat. September reached back, and smoothed his soaked face. Her sweatshirt stuck to her skin. She gathered her soaked hair to one side to wring it out on the passenger side floor. At least it's not a blizzard.
The slate-color clouds churned, black edges tattered flags streaming with the wind. Occasional lightening strobed the area into an eerie stop-action movie.
After she started the car, September crept from the parking lot, leaning forward to peer through windshield wipers that snick-snacked but still couldn’t clear her view. The deluge cut visibility to nil, but they couldn't wait. Shadow could track Willie’s dog, and with luck, they’d be together. Any hope for a successful search ticked away with every minute delayed, and rain diluted scent while wind chased it away and made it harder for Shadow to track. But they had to try.
Before she'd gone half a block, a dashboard light alerted her to an unlatched door. She must have keyed open the rear hatch of the SUV. She pulled to the side of the road, and Shadow watched with interest when September caped her down-filled coat above her head to run and slam shut the rear door. The piles of blankets and tracking equipment stored in the back would need drying out later.
Although she knew the address, September had no reason or desire to visit the Harrison residence before today. Combs's kids lived with his ex-wife Cassie and her new husband Rick Harrison in a two-and-a-half story brick monstrosity designed to shout their elevated social status to the world.
After fifteen minutes, the overhead faucet shut off. Gutters on each side of the street overflowed, creating whitewater the overtaxed drain system couldn't handle and leaving only the crown of the street free of runoff. September un-crunched her shoulders and sat back in the seat, steering toward the middle of the road to stay clear of the flood swell. After so much recent precipitation, North Texas had been under flash flood warnings all week. Weird weather for February. September worried the temperature would drop and create a statewide skating rink.
Ten minutes later, with no traffic to speak of, September pulled into the Harrison's drive. Shadow stood and made concentric nose prints on the window. His tail thwapped against the back seat.
"Shadow, wait."
He yawned, and muttered his opinion, then turned away and pawed at the back seat. He woofed, and pricked his ears. Maybe he wanted his tracking gear she'd stowed in the back of the SUV. Shadow sometimes read her mind, and September liked to think she also tuned in to his thoughts.
She preferred Shadow with her, but better to question Melinda first. She left the keys in the car, hit the window child locks, and switched on the radio to her favorite classical station.
Cold gusts turned September's wet hair to a chilly mop that trailed over her shoulders nearly to her butt. Quickly she snugged tight the zipper on her oversize coat, the poufy padding more suited to snowstorms than rain. Even the damp cover helped cut the wind.
Before she could ring the bell, Melinda swung open the massive double doors. Red wavy hair framed her heart-shaped face. "You came." She peered past September toward the car. "You brought him? The tracking dog?" She swiped her palm against one eye.
September pushed into the foyer, and wrinkled her nose when her sodden clothes dripped on the spotless white marble. Who in their right mind designed an entry with white marble? "Where's your stepdad? Did you call him?"
Melinda and hugged herself. "He’s with Mom. Getting more tests." She pushed the door closed, and crossed her arms. "He couldn't do anything anyway. It's all about Mom. They don't have time for us." Her bitter tone spoke volumes.
Cassie suffered from a rare brain disorder that mimicked Alzheimer's, one of half a dozen or so in the region affected. September personally knew of two others.
"I'm sure that's not true." She had to say that, although Melinda probably was right. Rick naturally focused on his wife over his stepchildren. September understood the girl's resentment being saddled with Willie, and unable to hang out with friends. "Don't you have the number for Detective Gonzales? He's with your dad."
"I didn't want to get Dad in trouble leaving his phone and all." She looked away.
"Uh huh. Yes, I'm sure that wouldn't go over well." September couldn't resist the dry jab. Far more likely, Melinda lost track of time and knew she'd be in trouble when found out she’d let Willie out of her sight.
"Dad's busy. He's told me before I shouldn't call him during shift." Her voice rose. "You're supposed to be some dog tracking expert or something, so I called you." She jutted her jaw.
"Show me where your brother left the house. And could you loan me a towel?"
September gingerly tiptoed across light tan carpet to avoid leaving footprints. Once she reached the ceramic tile of the kitchen, she gratefully wiped her face with the hand towel Melinda offered.
The girl gestured to the hallway, voice defensive. "I was on the computer in my room. Doing homework. I heard Willie yell something about the dog. He's always trying to get me to take Kinsler out, especially when I'm in the middle of something. It was his turn, and besides, I didn't want to get my new leggings all muddy."
"That's the least of your worries." September walked to the kitchen door to check out the window. The back of the house boasted a good half acre of lush grass contained by a privacy fence painted to match the shutter's white trim. Standing water pooled in two corners of the yard, slowly draining beneath the wooden barrier. "He went out here, and through the gate? It's still ajar." She could see a narrow alley that divided this property from the neighboring house.
"Why anyone would want that dog is beyond me. He poops in the house, chewed up my fav boots. But Willie loves him." She wiped her eyes on the hem of her shirt. "Willie plays make believe with bad guys and stuff, pretending to be a super-cop and Kinsler's his partner."
Pretending to be his father.
"I heard the door open and Willie yelling and screaming. By the time I got in here, the back yard was empty."
"Why didn't you go after him?"
"I did. I'm not totally horrible, he is my brother." Melinda indicated her splattered leggings. "Ruined them chasing after Willie. He knows I'll get in trouble if he gets hurt." At the last word, she deflated. "I got to the gate in time to see this ginormous baby-poop-brown truck zoom away. And Willie wasn't there."
"You checked with the neighbors?"
"Yes. Yes, I checked. I'm not an idiot." She tossed her hair. "Sorry. But we're wasting time. For a while, I thought Willie hid to get back at me? But when it started storming, I knew he wasn't fooling." She grabbed a lock of wavy red hair and twisted it, a nervous habit that had left one side shorter than the other. "I tried to call Dad first. That's how I knew he left his phone when it went to voice mail and I heard it beeping on the table. Yours was the first name listed, and the first time I dialed sort of by accident. And then I thought, why not?" She took a breath. "So what about tracking Willie? We have to find him. Dad will kill me." Her chin trembled. "Willie thinks he's so grown up but he's only ten. Only a little boy."
September awkwardly embraced the girl. "It'll be okay." She'd bet anything Willie took shelter with a neighbor, and, like many little brothers, relished getting payback for being dismissed. Melinda hadn't mentioned the truck before, though, and that worried her. "I'll take a quick look, okay? But you have to call your dad. No arguments. Give me his phone."
Reluctantly, Melinda handed it over and September quickly scrolled through the contacts to find Winston Gonzales. "You know his partner, Detective Gonzales, right? Call him, explain who it is and ask to talk to your father. And you tell him what's going on."
Melinda’s shoulders tightened but she nodded. "Don't you need your dog?"
"Shadow's trained to track other pets. So unless Kinsler is with your brother, Shadow probably wouldn't be much help." Besides, she still expected to see Willie trudge sheepishly out of the shrubbery once an adult ordered him inside. "Make that call. Now." She turned to the door.
Her wet tracking boots squeaked on the tile, and bare feet chaffed inside without socks. September dreaded going back out into the wind, and took a moment to pull up the hood on her coat. At least her feet wouldn't freeze. She hurried out the kitchen door, and trotted across the yard.
Sod squelched beneath her feet, and the atmosphere smelled of ozone. Her skin prickled with goose bumps that had nothing to do with the sudden temperature drop. September almost turned back to get Shadow.
She reached the wooden gate, and paused once she stepped through. The alley, more of a sandy pathway, served as shortcut through a field that separated two halves of the subdivision. The Harrison's home perched on a slight incline with the back yard leading downward to a natural runoff, dry most of the year, but now a raging torrent. Willie would have had to cross the water, and she prayed he'd not taken the chance. Too easy for a small child to be swept away. Heck, she wouldn't attempt crossing, either.
Heavy rain hadn't erased deep tire ruts that supported Melinda's account of a big truck. It had spun out to escape the mire. The drive foundation might be solid, but anything off the road hadn't a chance. She saw nothing as fine as a child's footprint, or dog's pad mark.
Lots of scrubby burl oak, cedar elm and mountain ash lined both sides of the drive, all barren of leaves, and offering no shelter to hide a small child. "Willie? William Combs, if you hear my voice, come home right now." She yelled as loud as she could, and paused to listen for a reply.
Nothing.
"Will-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
Something fluttered in a nearby tree. September cautiously stepped off the roadway, slaloming down the muddy incline, and grabbed a branch to steady herself. She plucked the blue and white scarf from the limb, each end festooned with the Dallas Cowboys star, something a little boy would love.
Lightening crackled and September jumped when a fingernail of light scratched the blackboard clouds. Rain pattered around her, the storm ready to reprise its assault.
She wheeled, and ran back the way she'd come, slipping and sliding in the muck as she cornered through the gate. September clutched the scarf close, as if shielding the fabric would extend protection to the child. She burst through the kitchen door, and nearly ran headlong into a wild-eyed woman.
"Who the hell are you?" A whip-thin lady with sharp features and flyaway red hair stalked her, brandishing a butcher knife. "And what are you doing with Willie's scarf?"
