Chapter 17
My first thought is that the little girl with the smeared white makeup, curled up in our sleeping bags, is dead.
My brain screams statistics about how long a small child can survive locked in a hot car, while my stomach bottoms out and my palms go cold and clammy on the handles of my new bike.
But then, the child shifts in her sleep, and I remember that it’s spring in the Colorado mountains. It’s too cool to worry about a vehicle overheating. We didn’t crack a window for Freya for just that reason. It’s chilly outside and with Freya loose in the camper, Tessa didn’t want to risk her clawing a hole through a screen and getting out.
“Come here, Freya,” Tessa whispers, making me flinch as the ferret suddenly materializes from the child’s bright red wig.
“Shit,” I curse beneath my breath. “I didn’t see her there.”
“She must have crawled in through the storage area beneath the banquet,” Tessa says, nodding toward the extra storage on the right side of the vehicle as she gathers Freya into her arms. “Hopefully she kept the little pumpkin company.” She shakes her head with a sigh. “She must have been back here the entire time. Since we left the campground.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “Why didn’t we see her? I swear, there was no one back here when I loaded the chairs and camping supplies this morning. And why didn’t she call out for help at some point? Especially when we stopped for gas. I was standing right there.” I motion toward the gas tank. “Just a few feet away.”
Tessa shakes her head. “I don’t know. But we have to report this right away. Hopefully, the police will believe it was all an accident.”
I gulp. “God, yeah. I didn’t even think of that.” I reach for my phone only to abandon the mission before I pull it out of my back pocket. “Should we wake her up first? Get her name? Her parents’ names? Maybe she knows a phone number we can call?”
Tessa hums doubtfully. “She’s awfully young, but we can try. Here, hold Freya.” She passes the fretfully clucking ferret into my arms—Freya seems worried about our stowaway, too—before leaning down to touch a gentle hand to the girl’s shoulder. “Sweetheart? Hello? Can you hear me, honey? My name is Tessa. I think you fell asleep in the wrong camper.”
The little girl’s lashes blink open. She reaches up, rubbing a small fist into her sleepy eyes, smearing her makeup more, before slowly sitting up. She glances around her before shifting her gaze back to Tessa, her bottom lip beginning to wobble.
Instantly, Tessa drops to a squat, bringing her face even with the child’s as she reaches out to pat her small shoe. “Oh, honey, no, don’t be scared. We’re not going to hurt you, I promise. We just want to help you find your family and get you home safe.”
The child sucks in a shaky breath and tears roll down her pudgy cheeks, breaking my heart in the process. Freya’s dooking grows more concerned, as if she, too, is trying to comfort the little girl.
“She’s right,” I add in a gentle voice. “We just want to help. Can you tell us your name? Or your mom or dad’s name? That would help us find a way to get in touch with them.”
The girl gulps and shakes her head, pointing one trembling finger to her face.
“You can’t talk?” Tessa asks.
The girl nods and her shoulders begin to shake.
“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Tessa says, moving to sit beside her, resting a hand on her back. “Can I give you a hug? Would that be okay?”
The girl lunges into Tessa’s side, wrapping her small arms tightly around her waist. Tessa hugs her back, stroking her wig as she murmurs soothing words I can’t quite make out.
After a few moments, she shoots me a pleading look.
I bite my lip, trying to think of any other way to identify this poor kid. “I’m pretty sure there’s pen and paper in one of the cabinets inside,” I say, inspiration striking. “Can you write your name for us, buddy?”
The little girl looks up from Tessa’s chest, where she’s smeared white makeup all over her gray sweatshirt. She shakes her head again and pops her thumb into her mouth.
“I think she’s too young,” Tessa whispers. “Probably three or four. Still in preschool.” She raises her voice a bit as she asks, “How old are you, honey?”
The girl sits up a little and holds out four tiny fingers.
Tessa nods. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
I sigh. “Okay. I’ll just have to tell the police what we know. It isn’t much, but…”
“I think so. Hopefully her family has reported her missing, and they’ll know who we’re talking about.” She brushes a few strands of the girl’s curly wig from her forehead before her hand drifts down to finger the ruffled collar of the clown costume. “Wait a second, Wes. Let me check something…”
“Okay,” I say, my thumb hovering over the keypad on my cell.
“My mom used to write my name on the tags in all my school uniforms. And a clown costume is kind of a like a uniform.” She cups the girl’s cheek in her palm and leans down. “Can I peek at the back of your costume, honey? See if your mom might have written your name there?”
The girl’s eyes widen, and she nods faster, hope blooming in her eyes.
“She did? Oh, that’s great news!” Tessa smiles, exhaling a relieved laugh as she reaches beneath the rumpled wig and finds the tag. Her smile widening, she says, “Maddie Evans? And your phone number is 555-555-8989?”
The girl nods so hard that her wig flops off, revealing sweat-damp blond curls.
Tessa laughs. “Amazing.” She glances at me. “Want me to read that again? I figure we should call the parents first, right? If I were a mom, I’d want to know my baby was safe as soon as possible.”
“Absolutely,” I agree. “I remember the number.” I tap it in, my heart racing as I put the phone to my ear. “Fingers crossed they answer when they see an unknown—”
Before I can finish, the call connects and a panicked female voice asks, “Hello? Who is this?”
“Hello,” I say, in my best “soothing a panicked client who was just served with unexpected papers” voice. “My name is Wesley McGuire. My friend Tessa and I were camping near Mama Maria’s restaurant last night. We pulled out early this morning and just now stopped to load a few things into the back of our vehicle. When we opened the storage area, we found Maddie asleep in our sleeping bags.”
The woman emits a strangled sound of relief. “Oh my God. Is she okay? Is she hurt? What happened?”
“She seems fine,” I say. “But she indicated to us that she can’t speak so we aren’t sure how she got here or—”
“The makeup,” the woman cuts in with what sounds like a cross between a laugh and a sob. “It’s the makeup. She knows she’s not supposed to talk when she’s clowning, and we didn’t take her makeup off last night. She fell asleep in the hammock before we could, so we just tucked her into bed. Then, this morning, she and the other kids were playing hide and seek, and she was the only one who wasn’t found. We ran around the entire campground calling her name, telling her she was the winner and could come out and get her prize, but she never answered.” She laugh-sobs again. “I was afraid she was stuck somewhere but wouldn’t answer us because of the makeup. She’s so young. I was afraid she might not understand that sometimes it’s okay to break the rules.” She sniffs. “Can you put her on the line? Let me tell her it’s okay to talk to you guys?”
“Sure, I’ll put you on speakerphone now.” I do and lean down, holding my cell closer to Maddie as I add, “You’re on speakerphone, and Maddie’s listening. Maddie your mom wants to talk to you.”
“Hey, baby,” her mom says, her voice sending fresh tears springing into Maddie’s eyes. “It’s okay to talk with your makeup on. You’re lost and when you’re lost you have to do whatever it takes to be found. Even break the clowning rules. Okay? So can you tell me what happened? And if you’re okay? Are you hurt?”
“No,” Maddie whispers, her little voice wobbling. “But I want to come home. I’m sorry I did bad hide and seek, Mommy.”
“Oh, you didn’t do bad hide and seek, honey,” her mother says, her voice shaky, too. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Daddy and I should have been keeping a closer eye on you. You’re still too little to play with the big kids without a grown-up around. That’s my fault, and I’m so sorry.”
“I want to be with you, Mommy. I don’t like playing with the big kids,” Maddie says, sniffling. “I want to go home.”
“And we’ll have you home in no time, I promise,” her mom says. “Just let me talk to the nice man who found you and we’ll figure this all out, okay? Just be brave for a little longer, and we can forget that this horrible day ever happened. Can you do that?”
Maddie nods and says, “Yes, Mommy.”
“I’ll take you off speakerphone while we figure things out,” I tell Mrs. Evans.
Mrs. Shirley Evans, I find out, after we’ve spoken for several minutes. She explains that while they’re still at the campground—they’ve been helping volunteers search for Maddie in the grasslands surrounding the site all day—she has a sister who lives close to Denver, about two hours away. Maddie loves her aunt Frannie, and will be good to stay with her until they can get packed up and on their way.
“I’ll explain everything to the police,” Shirley finishes. “But they’ll probably want to speak with you anyway. Can I give them this number?”
I assure her that she can, she thanks me again, and I put her back on speakerphone to tell Maddie goodbye and explain that Aunt Frannie will be on the way to get her very soon.
“And in the meantime, your mom said we could take you for an early dinner at The Burger Palace just over there,” I say, pointing to the brightly colored restaurant across the complex from Trout World. “Does a cheeseburger sound good?”
For the first time, Maddie smiles. “I love cheeseburgers.”
Her mom laughs. “You sound happier already. I knew a cheeseburger would make it all better. Just eat your burger and all your fries and relax with the nice people, okay? And then Aunt Frannie will be there to take you to her house and Daddy and I will be there as soon as we drive from the campground. We love you so much, Maddie, and we’re so glad you’re okay.”
“Love you, too, Mommy,” Maddie says.
I end the call only for my cell to ring a few minutes later, after we’ve tucked Freya into her crate and started across the parking lot. It’s the Sioux Falls Sherriff’s Department. I answer, remaining outside the restaurant to tell my story to law enforcement. The man takes down my statement and explains that Mrs. Evans has waived his offer to have a uniformed officer sent over to sit with Maddie until her aunt arrives.
“She trusts you,” the man says, clearly not thinking it’s the best idea.
“We won’t give her any reason to regret that,” I assure him. “Thanks for your time and feel free to call if I can clarify anything in the future.”
I push inside, pausing as I see Maddie and Tessa giggling together at a table in the corner. They’re bent over one of those coloring pages they give kids at restaurants, scribbling away with mischievous looks on their faces. Maddie looks like a completely different kid than the shattered girl we found in our storage area a half hour ago, and that’s all because of Tessa. I know I wouldn’t have been able to comfort her as well or as easily, no matter how hard I tried.
Tessa has a way with kids. My nephew Chase adores her. He runs to greet “Auntie Tessa” the second she arrives at one of our family gatherings, and that’s not something he does for any of his other aunts, not even Binx, who lets him ride the quarter-operated merry-go-round at the bank where she works as many times as he wants. (And gives him extra lollipops to take home after Mel makes her deposits for the day.)
Tessa’s special to Chase.
And to me.
I can’t help thinking, as I cross the restaurant to join them, that I wouldn’t mind this being my life someday. Solo adventures are fun, but not nearly as fun as an adventure with a gorgeous, fun, big-hearted woman. And if that woman were also the mother of my child?
It’s a crazy thing to think, but I can’t help it. After the pregnancy scare with Darcy, I convinced myself I wasn’t ready to start a family.
But maybe I just wasn’t ready to start a family with Darcy…
“Hey there, I ordered a burger for you with a side salad since you said you wanted something healthy, too,” Tessa says, grinning up at me as I arrive at the table. “And now we’re drawing clown noses and extra horns on all the animals. Would you care to join in?”
“I’d love to,” I say, grabbing a crayon. “Can I give the turtle a mohawk?”
Maddie laughs. “That’s silly.”
“But we like silly?” I ask.
She nods. “I like silly. I make silly faces all the time in clown school.”
I arch a brow. “Oh yeah? Can you show me one?”
Maddie’s eyes fly open so wide she resembles an anime cartoon and her mouth rounds into a lopsided “oh!” that makes both Tessa and I laugh.
“Very good,” Tessa says. “Clearly a girl who excels at her craft. I vote mohawks for all the animals.”
By the time we add mohawks, clown noses, and a few heart-shaped tattoos to the coloring page’s menagerie, our food has arrived. We eat slowly, but Maddie’s aunt is still twenty minutes away when we finish, so we order a banana split to share.
When Aunt Frannie rushes in, her blue eyes the same hue as Maddie’s and her hair a slightly darker shade of blond, Maddie’s face is covered in chocolate ice cream and she’s laughing like we’ve all been friends for ages.
The relief on her aunt’s face as she crosses the dining room is palpable.
“Aunt Frannie!” Maddie jumps off her chair, dashing to her aunt, who swoops her up in a big hug.
“Maddie Bear,” she says, cradling her close. “Man, we were scared. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Maddie pulls back, gazing into her aunt’s face. “I’m sorry. I already told mommy, I’m not going to play hide and seek ever again.”
“Sounds good to me,” Frannie says, glancing over her niece’s head to us. “Thank you two so much. We’re all so grateful that Maddie ended up with such kind people. What do I owe you for the dinner?”
I wave a hand, “Don’t worry about it. It’s our treat.”
“We insist,” Tessa cuts in. “It’s no trouble at all. Maddie was so much fun to hang out with. I hope you have a safe ride to your aunt’s house, Maddie. It was so nice meeting you.”
“Nice meeting you, too,” Maddie says, shier now that her aunt is here. She opens and closes her fingers to wave goodbye. “Thanks for the burger and fries and coloring and ice cream.”
“You’re so welcome,” Tessa says, beaming at the little girl. “It was our pleasure. Take care and hug your mama tight tonight.”
We say our goodbyes to Frannie and wave as she carries Maddie out to her car. When they’re gone, I turn back to Tessa with a smile, “You did a great job with her. You’ve really got a way with kids. Have they always fallen in love with you at first sight?”
She pales as she glances down at her hands.
“I’m sorry,” I say, sensing I’ve stepped in it somehow. “I just meant—”
“I need to tell you something,” Tessa says as she glances up, her eyes shining, “But I need to get back to feed Freya first. She’ll be upset if we don’t let her out of her crate soon.”
“Okay, of course,” I say. “Whatever you need.”
And I mean it. I want to give her whatever she needs.
I just need her to help me figure out what that is.