MIDNIGHT HAD A GLEAMING BLACK coat, olive-green eyes, dainty white paws, and a white-tipped nose. And four kittens. At dawn, she decided it was time to move. She caught the smallest, most troublesome kitten by the nape of the neck and set out across the parking lot. She skirted the cars and passed along the motel breezeway. At the end of the concrete walkway, she stepped into the dew-drenched grass.
Ahead was a tall palm tree encircled by a thicket of pink blooming oleanders and asparagus ferns. The ferns were bracketed by a circle of large, dusty green bromeliads with sawtooth-edged leaves and ruby-red throats. She darted beneath the thicket, deposited the kitten in a nest of pine needles, and set off again, back to the drainage culvert.
The other kittens were mewing hungrily. When the largest one, a male, tried to nurse, she batted it with her paw and picked it up in her mouth. She was crossing the parking lot again when a silver sedan with faded paint and bald tires pulled into the only vacant spot, the handicapped parking space in front of the breezeway. When the engine idled, then stopped, she darted away, hiding in the shadows beneath a van. After a moment, she slunk out and made her way back to the palm tree and her new nest.
She deposited the second kitten beside its sister and paused long enough for both kits to nurse briefly.
Everything was still and dark when Maya awoke. Her aunt was sleeping on her side facing away from the bedroom door, an arm flung across her face. Maya opened the door and went out to the kitchen, where she stealthily removed a juice box and bag of goldfish crackers from the bottom cupboard.
Mr. Joe was asleep on the sofa and she could not find the remote control for the television. So she crept past him, juice box and crackers tucked under her arm. The sliding-door lock was stubborn. But Maya was a big girl now. She set her snacks on the floor and stood on her tiptoes, her tongue tipped out in concentration until she heard the metallic snick as the lock disengaged.
She slid the heavy glass door aside, picked up her snack, and stepped out onto the patio. The bricks felt cool and damp beneath her bare feet. She pushed the straw into the juice box and took a sip. She was about to open the package of goldfish when she saw something moving beyond the patio gate.
It was Midnight! And she had something in her mouth. A small, wriggling black something. It was a kitten. Maya watched while the cat darted beneath the prickly green bushes. She waited. She opened the bag of crackers and chewed, ignoring the bright orange crumbs that sprinkled down the front of her pajama top. She took a suck of apple juice, then crammed the rest of the crackers into her mouth, dropping the bag onto the bricks.
When Midnight emerged from the bushes without the kitten, Maya smiled. The cat scampered away without looking back. Maya unlatched the patio gate and stepped into the thick, wet grass. It tickled her ankles.
All was quiet outside. She could still see a sliver of moon in the morning sky. She could hear the waves washing onto the beach just beyond the sand dune, and a line of pelicans, those funny birds with the big beaks with grocery bags attached, flew past, low along the surf line.
The world was asleep. She tiptoed toward the palm tree. As she drew closer, Maya could hear soft mewing noises. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled the last few inches until her nose was inches from the circle of shrubbery.
The sawtoothed leaves scratched at her face, but she inched forward. She saw something black and furry curled up in a nest of pine needles. Kittens! There were two kittens. They mewed and wriggled. Midnight had left the kittens all alone. Maya reached out and touched one on its little pink nose. A tiny pink tongue darted out and licked her hand. She giggled with delight. She scratched the kitten’s soft black ears and it mewed again.
Her hand was closing on the kitten when she heard footsteps crunching in the wet grass. An arm wrapped itself around her waist and abruptly jerked her up and away. Just before a hand clamped over her mouth she saw the man. It was the man from the store. He had scary blue eyes and a black baseball cap. He smiled. “Good morning, Maya.”
Joe awoke with a start, and for a moment, he couldn’t figure out where he was. The room was still dark. He yawned and stretched, then remembered. This was Letty’s place. He’d fallen dead asleep on the sofa. He stood up and switched on the lamp on the end table and looked around the room and smiled briefly at the memory of what had happened earlier on this very same sofa.
He checked his phone. Nearly seven. He needed to pee, but didn’t dare walk into the bedroom for fear of waking Letty and Maya. He went over to the sliding glass door and frowned when he saw that it was slightly ajar. Had Letty left it open the night before? They’d been out on the patio, and then things had gotten intense and they’d come back inside.
Dammit, he’d have to remind her again about keeping everything locked up. He slid the door open wider, went out to the patio, and looked out at the horizon. The morning sky looked clear, the water calm. Joe hoped it was a good omen for the day ahead.
He hadn’t wanted to worry Letty, but this whole scheme with Wingfield could go very wrong, very fast, with just the slightest misstep from any of them. He scowled, considering all the terrifying possibilities, but forced himself to put aside his worries. Vikki Hill was a seasoned federal agent. She would have backup, and he would have backup. And finally, Letty would be freed from the cloud that had been hanging over her head.
Joe yawned again, opened the gate, walked outside, and after making sure he couldn’t be seen by any early-morning beach walkers, relieved himself behind a dune.
When he went back inside he locked the slider and went in search of coffee. He found a box of tea bags in the cabinet, but no sign of coffee. Letty’s room key was on the end table. He let himself out of the unit, saw that the lights were on in the office, and smiled. If the lights were on at his mother’s place, he knew the coffee would be hot. He locked the door behind him and went in search of caffeine.
“You’re up early,” Ava observed. She was standing behind the reception desk, rummaging through a pile of room keys. They were the old-school variety, with large diamond-shaped plastic tags bearing the Murmuring Surf logo and room numbers.
“You too.”
He went to the coffee maker and poured himself a mug, dumping in two packets of sugar. “What are you looking for?”
“The master key. Chuck had one, but I made him give it back when I kicked him out. Or, I thought I did.”
Joe scowled at the memory of Ava’s relationship with the late Chuck Sheppard. “He could have easily had another key made, you know. Doesn’t matter now. He’s dead. Anyway…”
The office door flew open. Letty was barefoot and wild-eyed. “Is Maya here with you? Is she upstairs?”
“No,” Ava said. “She’s not here. I haven’t seen her this morning.”
“She’s gone!” Letty wailed. “I just woke up, and she wasn’t in her bed or the pillow fort, and she wasn’t anywhere in the apartment.…”
“The sliding glass door was ajar when I got up,” Joe said, setting his coffee mug down. “I assumed we’d left it open last night.”
“No, I locked it,” Letty insisted. “And I double-checked last night. She must have gotten up while we were still sleeping.”
“What’s going on?” Vikki Hill emerged from the stairwell. “What’s this about Maya?”
“She’s gone!” Letty cried. “Oh my God. The pool. What if she wandered over there and fell in?”
“I’ll check the pool,” Joe said quickly.
“I’ll go down to the beach to look,” the FBI agent volunteered. “Maybe she’s playing mermaid in the sand.”
“Mom, can you and Letty check the rec room and the rest of the property? You might have to start knocking on doors. Maybe one of the guests spotted her.”
“Rooney. What if Rooney took her?” Letty clamped both hands over her mouth to keep herself from screaming.
Joe touched her shoulder. “We’re gonna find her. Okay? We’ll find her. If I have to tear this place apart, if I have to tear him apart, we’ll find her.”
Letty nodded. “I believe you.”
Letty’s heart pounded in her chest as she ran toward the rec room, and she repeated the only prayer she knew, the one she’d learned during a brief foray to a long-ago Sunday school class.
Our Father, who art in Heaven …
Please let Maya be safe …
Please keep her safe …
Hallowed be Thy name …
Thy Kingdom come …
Letty rattled the heavy glass door of the rec room, but it was tightly locked, the interior dark. Letty looked down the breezeway toward the bank of motel units on the right. No signs of life. She decided to circle back toward her own place. Maybe Maya had gone out onto the patio and chased one of the tiny green lizards that fascinated her. Her mind raced with all the dark possibilities. What if …
Joe met her at the door of her unit. “The Feldmans were swimming laps and they said they haven’t seen Maya, but when I told them she was missing they got out of the pool and said they’d help look.”
Vikki jogged toward them. “I scouted out the beach. No sign of her there.” She hesitated. “I did see a set of men’s footprints in the sand, leading from the edge of the grass outside your room, Letty, into the dunes.”
“Those are mine,” Joe said quickly, shooting an apologetic look at Letty. “I needed to take a whiz and didn’t want to disturb you, so I went out to the dunes.”
“What if she went out into the parking lot?” Letty said, her voice rising in panic. She knew she sounded hysterical. Because she was right on the edge of hysteria. “Or out onto the road?”
“I called in to dispatch,” Joe said. “They’ve got patrol cars out looking for her.”