Prodigal

Chapter 7

7

Adam sat in JJ’s Bronco, shivering. His teeth had begun chattering right about the time Dorothy’s screams stopped inside the house. Not that there was exactly a connection between the two, but the silence did make his skin crawl. He rocked in his seat, trying to warm up, trying to make the creeping sensation go away. But it wouldn’t. Adam set his feet on the dash and tucked his knees into his chest, trying to help his mind and body relax. When that didn’t make him still, he pinched the bridge of his nose until his fingers ached and his eyes watered.

Please forgive me, Danny.

The sense of familiar and utterly freaking crazy were at war in Adam’s mind. He tried to sort through some of what he’d heard this evening. Twenty years of catching up in twenty seconds. That’s what it felt like. Otto Nicholson had said Grant was coming over later. Grant Mason had been a couple of years ahead of them in school, and his father was the Beecham County Sheriff when Adam and JJ were kids. Grant must have followed in his dad’s footsteps.

Adam had tried to block out the details of what happened back then, when Danny was taken, including the many times Sheriff Mason had questioned him. As a child, Adam was sure he knew something, something that would save his friend Danny, that would help them find him. The Sheriff was sure, too. But neither of them knew what it was. No matter how many times and how many ways Sheriff Mason asked him, they couldn’t tease the key from Adam’s mind. And then Adam started having difficulties figuring out what was real and what was… well, something else. All in his mind.

Maybe it—the key—was never there. Or maybe it was still waiting for Adam to find it. And so was Danny. And everyone else who couldn’t let go.

Jesus, Danny, I’m sorry.

Adam sighed. And yet here I am, freezing my buttkus off.

He wasn’t wearing a watch. Adam wondered how long he’d been waiting for JJ—fifteen minutes? He squeezed between the seats to the back of the vehicle and rummaged around in the storage space behind the back seat. If he knew JJ… yes. He found two gallons of distilled water, a set of jumper cables, a first aid kit, and a paper grocery bag with a flashlight and a musty wool blanket.

Climbing back into the front with the blanket, Adam banged his head on the roof and narrowly missed knocking the vehicle out of park. Focus. He pulled the blanket tightly around himself. Good Lord, he was hungry. Normally, he would’ve grabbed something right before his shift at the bar, but he hadn’t given a thought to food when he’d jumped in his car and started driving.

The SUV’s cup holders and storage trays were filled with random keys and bits and bobs, but nothing edible. Adam tried the glovebox and found it locked. It had been a while since he’d picked a lock—

JJ flung the driver’s side door open. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for something to eat. Why’s the glovebox locked?” Adam asked.

“Not to keep people out of my Twinkies.” JJ slammed the door behind her and reached for her seat belt. “I have a child. I’m not about to carry a handgun in my vehicle without locking it up.”

Adam blinked hard. “You carry a handgun?”

There was a whining sound when JJ turned the ignition, and for a moment Adam thought they’d be getting the jumper cables from the back. As soon as the engine caught, JJ threw the SUV in reverse and said, “Why are you surprised? You just saw me point a shotgun at a passel of people on my front porch.”

“Well, yeah,” Adam admitted, struggling to get his own seat belt on as the vehicle spun in a wide arc, throwing him sideways against the window. “But that was a shotgun, from your house, on your own property. That’s different. Is everything okay?”

Adam clutched the door handle as JJ veered around a rut, but he pressed on. “Janie? What’s going on with you?”

“That’s right—you don’t live here anymore, so you wouldn’t know what’s going on with me.” JJ shook her head. “My daughter’s best friend disappeared today. That’s what’s going on, and that’s all that’s going on. I didn’t think we’d ever get Dorothy calmed down. And you… what the hell were you thinking?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Adam said, trying to keep his voice even.

JJ snorted. “You didn’t have to.”

“Exactly.” Adam gripped the dash as JJ swung the vehicle around, from the Nicholson driveway onto the road and into her own driveway, without so much as a rolling stop. “You stayed in Beecham County—lived here your whole life—so people don’t automatically think of Danny when they see you. Once they recognize me, it’s hard for them to think of anything else.”

“No s**t, Sherlock,” JJ said, dripping sarcasm. “Why do you think I told you to keep your mouth shut?”

“You use that language with your kid?” Adam snapped.

He could feel the anger radiating from JJ as she held her tongue. JJ always had been the one with the “potty mouth.” That was Iris’s term, the first and only time she’d laid down the law with Adam about bad language. They’d been in kindergarten at the time, and JJ had gotten in trouble for calling Leslie Beck an “ath-hole.” Subsequently, her adult front teeth filling in did wonders for her swearing abilities.

JJ parked next to her house and shut off the engine before answering. “No, as a matter of fact, I don’t swear in front of my daughter.” Her voice softened. “I guess you still bring out the best in me.”

Adam’s breath caught in his throat.

She doesn’t hate me.

Not that he’d really thought she would, at least not rationally, but that nagging doubt had hung over Adam for years. It was the main reason Adam didn’t leave the house on the rare occasions that he returned to visit Iris. But knowing that he and JJ were still okay, that was something. Adam felt a rush of uncharacteristic—not optimism exactly—contentment. Like one less piece of him was missing, and he was one step closer to being whole.

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I came back,” Adam said.

“I guess it is,” JJ said, reaching over to tug the bill of his baseball cap down over his eyes. “Come on in. Let’s make a game plan.”

But first she headed toward the doghouse, cooing to her furry friend. After a quick pat, JJ unclipped his collar from the tie-out. The big dog followed them to the house and shoved a cold nose in Adam’s hand while JJ swore at the front door key. Adam’s heart pounded faster and his mouth grew dry and sticky.

“His name is Trooper,” JJ said, finally shoving the door open.

Adam squatted next to Trooper to get acquainted while JJ wandered around flipping on lights. JJ was right; Adam wasn’t afraid of dogs as a rule, and he wasn’t sure what it was about this one that had made him so uneasy. Trooper was calm and affectionate, giving a measured lick when Adam rubbed behind one crooked ear. The other ear stood at attention.

“You’re a handsome boy, aren’t you?” Adam whispered, putting his face close enough for one last lick before standing.

Looking around the Tulley house, Adam experienced a disorientation that was becoming familiar. The basic layout of the entry appeared the same. A bench sat next to the door with pairs of boots beneath it. There was a small, functional kitchen to the left off the otherwise open floor plan, but the bare subfloor he remembered from their youth had finally been covered by wood laminate. A twelve-point buck still watched from above the mantle, but the adjacent wall sported school papers on a cork board, hanging above a small desk. The sofa looked like it had been purchased in the past decade, but the dining table… Adam walked over for a closer look. There were two place settings, and the rest of the surface was covered with bags of chips, mail, and a permission slip. Adam went to the chair that faced the windows and slipped his fingers under the edge of the table. Nothing.

“Try the next seat,” JJ said, with a hint of a smile that looked almost embarrassed.

Adam reached beneath the table and felt imperfections in the underside surface. He got down on one knee and looked up at his initials in the wood, rubbing his index finger over the evidence of the past. It was real. He was here. Even if everyone else wasn’t anymore.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” he spoke from the floor. “When did he pass away?”

JJ folded her arms over her chest. “Last year. It was quick.”

Adam looked at her angry, challenging eyes. She was lying. Cancer, maybe? Whatever, she was still raw. At least, as raw as JJ ever got. Adam kneed up into a chair. “He was a good man. Closest thing to a father I ever had. How’s your mom? And your brother?”

“Mom’s still married to The Dweeb.” JJ rolled her eyes and Adam grinned at their childhood name for JJ’s stepfather. “But she loves Evie and makes a great grandma. My brother moved out west. Haven’t seen him in years. You eat dinner?”

“Yeah,” he lied. He’d been starving a few minutes ago, but seeing Trooper again had thrown his stomach off, and it hadn’t quite settled yet. Plus, Adam didn’t want them to get sidetracked. “Why don’t you tell me what happened today?”

“Okay.” JJ joined him at the table, took the clip off a bag of cheese popcorn, and set it between them. “Here’s what we know. Rachel and her brother Jacob and my daughter Evie are the last kids off the bus. It’s hard for the bus to get turned around on our road, so the driver just drops them at the bottom of the hill. Jacob had football practice and Evie had a sleepover that Rachel wasn’t invited to, so Rachel was walking by herself. Bus driver dropped her off at the usual time—just before four o’clock because it’s a long route—and didn’t see anything unusual.”

“But he wouldn’t,” Adam said. Despite his lingering queasiness, he found his hand reaching for the popcorn once the smell hit him.

JJ shook her head, but she was agreeing with him. “No line of sight. Dorothy was a little late getting home from work—she waitresses part-time at the River Lounge—and didn’t see Rachel, but she wanted to get dinner started and just figured the girl was playing outside. Rachel had been in a little bit of a funk over this sleepover thing, and Dorothy thought she might need the space. Dorothy didn’t get worried until Otto came home and they couldn’t find her. They went ahead and called the law—”

“That’s Grant Mason?” Adam interrupted.

JJ nodded. “He’s the Sheriff now, and Luther Beck’s one of his deputies. I can’t remember the other one—somebody from Plattsville, and then there’s a new woman, too. Anyway, there was only an hour or two of light left, but they used the volunteer fire department to get a bunch of people out searching as soon as they could. Even with Malcolm’s best tracking dog, nobody found hide nor hair of her.”

The powdered cheese left a nasty taste in Adam’s mouth, and he coughed a random kernel loose from his esophagus. “So how do we find her?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” JJ admitted. “I was hoping you would.”