Prodigal

Chapter 9

9

Curled up on the couch, JJ had her mother’s afghan on her shoulders and Trooper’s head on her lap while she watched a misty rain swirl in the light from the porch. It almost looked like snow. It would be soon enough.

Adam was long gone and wouldn’t be back until morning, after a decent night’s sleep. JJ had decided to leave Evie at her slumber party tonight, as had the other mothers. The girls wouldn’t be getting any sleep, but then, no one had thought they would. Speaking with Melanie’s mom (she wouldn’t dare embarrass Evie by asking to speak with her personally) had helped ease JJ’s mind. She’d said the girls were subdued, but not crying, so that was something. The female officer that stopped by to interview them about their classmate had tried to downplay any danger, to make it sound as if Rachel’s absence was just a misunderstanding, but the girls weren’t stupid.

JJ wasn’t due to pick up Evie until early afternoon. Maybe she’d take Evie to her mother’s. Evie would complain about staying with her grandmother in the next county, but the child would be conflicted enough about Rachel’s disappearance without watching people coming and going trying to find her. JJ would call her mother tomorrow at a more reasonable hour to make sure she was free.

That resolved, JJ dozed off herself, just for a moment, when headlights shone up her driveway. She recognized the car, and she wasn’t the only one. Trooper lifted his head, but he didn’t bark. In fact, the dog’s skull seemed to get heavier when he settled it back on her lap, challenging JJ to remove it. Which, of course, she did.

“Sorry, sweetie,” she said, lifting his head and rising from the couch. She leaned over and whispered, “But if you promise not to tell Evie, I’ll let you sleep on the bed with me tonight.”

JJ scuffed to the door in old wool slippers that had been missing a right toe since Trooper’s puppyhood. Heavy, hurried boots made their way up the front steps while she unlocked the deadbolt.

The stupid man hadn’t worn his hat.

“Get in out of the rain,” she said, as she opened the door. “Coffee?”

Trooper’s tail thumped against the wooden arm of the couch.

“Hey buddy,” Grant said, running a hand through his own wet, auburn hair until it stood on end. “Coffee would be great, if you don’t mind.”

JJ hit the switch on the coffeemaker she’d preloaded earlier, a habit she’d fallen into with him over the past few months. “Sit down. Can I get you something to eat?”

“No, thanks,” he said, perching on the edge of the armchair and rubbing his hands along the top of his legs. It was a kind of tic JJ had noticed before, when he sat down. “I can’t stay long.”

JJ made herself a cup of chamomile tea. When the coffee was done, she brought a steaming mug (black) to Grant, who gratefully accepted it with both hands. Trooper had vacated his spot on the couch to rest his head on Grant’s damp knee. Grant looked as though he could use all the warmth he could get. His brows were so light they were nearly invisible, making his green eyes stand out even more starkly against his pale face. Even his freckles seemed transparent.

“Well?” JJ asked. She lost a slipper as she tucked her feet beneath her and left it on the floor.

Grant stared down at his coffee, silent. Trooper nudged his knee gently, and for an instant, JJ thought Grant would cry.

“Oh, my God,” she said softly. “How bad is it?”

Grant exhaled a heavy breath, then set his coffee on an end table and pulled something from his coat pocket. “We found this at the edge of the road, right before your driveway.”

JJ took it from him and turned it in her hand, wishing it could speak. It was Rachel’s asthma inhaler, in a small plastic bag. JJ choked back the sob that rose in her throat, and her voice sounded almost normal when she said, “This is an emergency inhaler, the one she’d use in case of an attack. Rachel never goes anywhere without one. She also uses a different one every day as a preventive.”

“How long before she starts to feel the effects of not having either of them?” Grant asked.

“I don’t know. It’s outside my expertise—you’d really need to talk to her doctor. But I do know that this fall was tough for her, and she’s had to use her emergency inhaler more than they’d like.” JJ took a deep breath, trying to maintain in nurse mode without slipping into mother mode. “I also know that stress is a big trigger for her attacks. And when they start, she panics, which just makes it worse.”

Grant leaned back, gripping the armchair with one hand while rubbing the other across his face until his forehead was pink. “I’ve done everything I know to do so far.”

“What about help from outside?” JJ asked.

“Anyone and everyone.” Grant’s hand shook as he reached for his coffee. “JJ, I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“If, God forbid, it were Evie, I can’t imagine anyone else I’d rather have looking for her.” She leaned forward and gripped his knee. “I’m sorry your father can’t help you.”

“I’m sorry yours can’t either,” he said darkly, only half joking. He’d seen the damage JJ’s father could do to the deserving. “This might sound awful,” Grant continued, “but I just hope my dad has a bad week, the kind where he won’t understand what’s going on, or wonder why I’m not there on Sunday.”

JJ squeezed her mug of tea hard. “You don’t think you’ll find her by Sunday?”

Grant smiled. His chin was a little too narrow and stuck out a little too far for him to be classically handsome, but he was a good man. JJ thought maybe she loved him just for that hopeful, lying smile.

“Of course, we’ll find her,” he said. “But Sunday, I plan on sleeping in.”

Grant gave Trooper one last pat before standing and chugging the rest of his coffee. He handed JJ his mug. “I have to go talk with Dorothy and Otto now. Thanks for the coffee.”

JJ set his mug back on the end table and walked him to the door. They stood, feeling the cold radiate from the storm door glass, and watched the rain get heavier, pooling on the bottom step and in the bare part of the yard beyond.

“They say we might get snow tomorrow night,” Grant said.

“Let’s hope not,” was all she said, but JJ couldn’t help but wonder where Rachel was, if the child was out in this cold and wet without a decent coat… or worse. Please God, let her be safe.

“Good night, JJ,” Grant said and stepped outside, pulling his coat close and bowing his head against the rain.

It was almost a physical ache, watching him leave. Am I just going to let him go like this, every night for the rest of my life? He’d almost made it to his car before JJ ran down the steps after him, still wearing only one slipper, following before she even knew what she intended.

Grant turned to her in surprise, hand on the cruiser door. “JJ, you’re going to—”

She grabbed his face between her hands, pulled it down, and kissed him hard. Rain ran down his forehead, dripped off the end of his nose. She tasted it on her lips, along with coffee and chamomile and some indefinable something that must be Grant. Finally, she let go of his face and would have backed away, but his arms wrapped around her waist and held her fast until they both had to come up for air. Albeit wet air.

“Well,” Grant said, a little loudly so he’d be heard over the rain, “that’s new.”

JJ smiled and wiped rain from her eyes. “It’s overdue, is what it is. Be safe.”