Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
P RU FLATTENED HER PALMS against the door, shock and denial arcing through her. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. She’d done everything right. She’d taken the classes, gotten the certifications, and picked up her mother’s mantle without complaint. She’d been a goddamned rock since her mother died—for Ari and her sisters, because they needed her to be. Surely, all of that would outweigh her one indiscretion.
A car cranked up outside. Pru’s knees gave out, and she collapsed like a puppet with cut strings. Flynn caught her before she hit the floor. His arms came tight around her. He was saying something. She didn’t know if it was English or Gaelic. Her ears weren’t working. Her legs weren’t working. Nothing was working in the face of the tearing grief. Nothing could touch the unspeakable horror of what had just happened. She curled in on herself, wrapping both arms around her middle, as if that could contain the horrific pain. Tears poured down her cheeks and she opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her entire body felt like a scream that couldn’t escape.
She was going to lose Ari. She was going to lose the last piece of her mother. Her family would never trust her again. And she was letting down the child, who was counting on her more than anyone else in the world. The child she’d sworn to protect and love all of her days. After a lifetime of playing it safe, one reckless decision had destroyed it all.
It broke her. More than being abandoned by her father. More than the death of her mother. The realization that she’d done this, she’d made this mistake, shattered her. All the agony she’d repressed and ignored for years came flooding out in a silent storm.
Flynn held her as she shook and sobbed. A part of her wanted to shove him away. A part wished she’d never seen him, never met him, never been tempted by him. But that put the responsibility off on someone else, and it had been her decision. Her foolish wish. This disaster wasn’t on him. Pushing him away wouldn’t change anything, and she had sufficient wits remaining to realize that, when all this was over, he was the only one likely to still stand by her. That thought had her turning into him at last, fisting her hands in his shirt and tucking into his body.
An eon later, the tears finally slowed, probably because she’d wept out every drop of moisture in her body. Pru’s head throbbed. Not for the first time, she thought grief felt much like the flu—an attack on all the senses that left you weak and aching. Flynn’s hand was tangled in her hair, stroking her nape. He’d stopped speaking at some point. They were still in the floor of the foyer. Pru felt some dim measure of gratitude for the fact that no guests had stumbled upon them. But they couldn’t stay here.
She lifted her head to find Flynn’s eyes red-rimmed.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
Pru tried to shake her head, but it weighed a thousand pounds. “Not your fault.”
“But if I?—”
“It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. And we have to face the consequences.” The social worker would carry through on her threat, and a judge could rule to take Ari away. Nothing could be worse than that, and she’d have to find a way to live with it. They all would.
“There has to be something we can do.”
She crawled out of his lap, using the doorknob to haul herself to her feet. Purged of that first wave of grief, she struggled to focus on practical steps, on action. “I need to call Robert.”
“Who’s Robert?”
“Robert Barth. My attorney. I probably should have done that in the first place, but I knew he’d object to what we were doing, and I was afraid of what he might tell me about the alternatives. He needs to know what’s going on. And maybe there’s something to be done to fight it.”
Feeling about a hundred years old, Pru made her way to the kitchen, pouring a tall glass of water she didn’t want and guzzling it down. Then she poured a second to chase some ibuprofen. “I should call Mae, too. She’s still on leave and recovering from back surgery, but maybe she can offer some insight. Or maybe she can talk Lydia Coogan down.” Not that she had much faith in that eventuality. The woman had taken an instant dislike to Pru and seemed determined to punish her for being able to get past any of the red tape of the foster system.
“We have to tell the rest of the family that this is coming.” The idea of having to face that made her want to run. Or maybe just hide in a closet.
Flynn’s expression was grim. “We’ll do it together.”
That didn’t make her feel better, exactly, but she felt a little less alone.
“I have to talk to Ari.”
“Do you want to speak to the attorney first? Find out more information?”
Pru shook her head. “There’s nothing worse as a foster kid than to have adults making decisions about you without including you. It’s why she eavesdrops. We all did it. I don’t want her drawing her own conclusions based on partial information. I have to be honest with her.” She set the glass aside and started for the stairs.
“What? Now?”
“The sooner the better. We don’t know if she came downstairs at any point. I don’t think she overheard the social worker or she’d have been up in the middle of that meeting arguing. But if she saw us in the foyer… She needs to know where she stands. I’ve never lied to her, and I’m not going to start now.”
He started after her.
“I think, maybe, I need to have this conversation with her alone.”
Flynn pulled up short. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “I’m right here if either of you need me.”
“Thank you.” Because they both needed it, Pru laid a hand against his cheek before going upstairs.
Dread ratcheted higher with each step. She tried to find the words, the right thing to say so that this didn’t destroy Ari’s world, but her mind was simply full of static. Too late, it occurred to her that she should probably wash her face. But no amount of scrubbing was going to cover up the crying, so ultimately, she knocked on Ari’s door.
No answer.
Maybe she’d fallen asleep?
Pru knocked again, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. “Ari? Honey?”
Her room looked like a bomb had gone off. Clothes were scattered on every surface. Good lord, they needed to have a chat about the importance of everything in its place. She didn’t realize that she’d expected to see Ari passed out amid the piles until her brain registered that there was no teenager in the room.
“Ari?” She strode to the closet, though the door stood open. Empty.
Pru wandered back into the hall, checking the bathrooms. No Ari. She headed upstairs. When guests weren’t in residence, sometimes Ari liked to read in the turret room. But that, too, was empty. She trotted back to the landing.
“Flynn, can you run look to see if Ari’s outside or in the barn?”
“Sure.”
As the door shut behind him, she began going room-by-room, including the guest rooms. Unease morphed into active worry when she found no trace of her child. Where was she? Kennedy’s old room was the last one, and again, no Ari. Pru started to shut the door, when she caught a flash of movement. The curtain billowed from a breeze coming in the open window. The window that opened on to the old bodock tree. The one Kennedy had used for sneaking out to meet Xander.
Everybody knew that story, including Ari.
Flynn came up the stairs. “I didn’t find her.” He looked past her. “Why is the window open?”
Pru couldn’t breathe.
Ari always eavesdropped. If she’d heard what the social worker had said, if she’d heard that she’d be taken away…she might run. It was that fear that had driven Pru and her sisters to fight so hard for Ari to stay put after their mother died. Kennedy had stated unequivocally that running was what she’d have done.
As she stared at the open window, Pru realized that she’d been wrong. The situation could absolutely get worse. “We have to call Xander. I think Ari’s run away.”
“We can’t find her.” Pru’s voice, already ragged from crying, broke again as she met Xander on the porch. The sound of it shredded Flynn’s guts. This was his fault. If he hadn’t opened his big fat mouth… If he hadn’t convinced Pru that this was the best course of action… If he’d never stayed at all, this never would have happened. Ari’s home wouldn’t have been at risk.
Xander put an arm around her. “We’re gonna find her. I promise. Let’s go inside now. I need to get some more information.” He turned to the deputy he’d brought with him. “Clyde, you wanna do a sweep of the immediate area, see what you can find?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ve shouted ourselves hoarse, and we’ve searched the house and barn,” Flynn said, barely trusting his own voice.
“Won’t hurt to have another pair of eyes,” Xander said easily.
He escorted them to the kitchen and put on the kettle himself. “You sit on down. I’m gonna make you some tea.”
Tea. Flynn should have thought of that. Pru’s throat was raw. It would do her good if they could get it down her.
“When did you last see Ari?” Xander asked.
Pru scooped a hand through her hair. “I…about an hour and a half ago? Maybe two hours? She was trying to pick an outfit for the first day of school. I went up to talk to her about half an hour ago, but she wasn’t in her room or anywhere else in the house, and the window in Kennedy’s room was open to the old bodock. You know how much she glommed onto that story of Kennedy using it to sneak out.”
“That she did. Did she take her phone?”
“It’s still on her dresser,” Pru said.
Kennedy burst into the room. “I came as soon as I could.” She wrapped her arms around her sister. “What happened?”
“We were just getting to that,” Xander said. “Why do you think she ran away as opposed just going off hiking without telling you?”
“She’s always really good about asking permission for things,” Pru said.
“Her backpack is gone,” Flynn added. “Along with the entire bag of clementines, a box of granola bars, and part of the new case of bottled water.”
“You’re sure that’s not just up in her room?” Kennedy asked. “Foster kids often hoard food. I’ve never known Ari to do that, but you never know.”
“I—” Pru paused. “I don’t know. We didn’t check. Her room looks like a bomb went off.”
“Ransacked?” Xander’s voice sharpened.
“Teenage girl,” Pru corrected. “She wasn’t taken. She ran.”
“Why would she run?” Kennedy asked.
Pru closed her eyes, her face twisting in pain, and the guilt nearly buckled Flynn’s knees.
He laid a hand on her shoulder, almost surprised when Pru’s hand came up to cover his. “Lydia Coogan was here.”
The tension in the room ratcheted up exponentially. For the first time in their long friendship, Flynn saw an ugly suspicion darken Kennedy’s gaze as she stared him down, waiting for the explanation he’d give almost anything not to tell.
“She knows that we lied, and she’s planning to seek an injunction to have Ari removed from the house.”
Xander swore, low and vicious.
“How?” Kennedy demanded. “How could she possibly find out? I covered for you.”
“Someone pointed her to Darcy.”
“Oh shit. Because your stalker is the best character reference for an adoption.”
“I don’t know who thought she’d be a good reference. Either way, she had proof I wasn’t in Ireland when Pru was.”
Xander folded his massive arms, his gray eyes cold. “I told you. I told you both this was a bad idea.”
Flynn’s temper spiked. Recriminations helped absolutely nothing. They were wasting time. Ari was out there somewhere, on her own. “You feel free to kick my ass six ways from Sunday as soon as this is all over. I guarantee you absolutely nothing you can say or do is worse than what I’m saying to myself. But right now, Ari’s out there, on her own, thinking God knows what. I don’t matter. She does.”
Kennedy put a restraining hand on Xander’s arm. “This woman said that in front of Ari? That she was going to take her away?”
Pru shook her head. “No. But you know how she eavesdrops. If she heard that…”
“She’d run,” Kennedy concurred. “It’s what I’d have done. Leave on my own terms. It’s what I did do before I came to Mom.”
Clyde knocked on the back door. At Xander’s gesture, he came on into the kitchen. “I didn’t find any sign, Sheriff.”
Xander inhaled a slow breath and scrubbed both hands over his face. “All right. What was she wearing?”
“I don’t know if she left in the same thing she had on earlier,” Pru said.
“What was that?”
“Blue jean shorts. That Volunteers t-shirt Logan brought her, I think. But she’d been changing outfits.”
“Run up to her room and see if you can sort out whether that’s there,” Xander ordered.
“I’ll go with you,” Kennedy said.
When they’d left the room, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed. “Essie, I need you to put out an immediate BOLO statewide for Ariana Rosas. Hispanic female, aged thirteen, approximately 5’3”, 110 pounds. Black hair down to her shoulder blades, brown eyes. Runaway. I—Yes, I know, Essie. That’s not pertinent to this BOLO. She was last seen wearing denim shorts and a UT Volunteers t-shirt—orange with white text. She has, at most, a two-hour head start. Probably less. She’s believed to have a backpack with her.”
“It’s blue,” Flynn offered, feeling sick as Xander nodded and continued.
“We’re going to do a broader sweep here, then I’ll get the release signed to put her into NCIC. This close to the state line, she could hit North Carolina, Virginia, or Kentucky, if she managed to hitchhike.”
Hitchhiking. Mary, Mother of God. Flynn hadn’t thought he could feel sicker than he already did. What kind of lunatic might she encounter if she tried to do that? She could get hurt. Or worse. Feeling absolutely useless and twitching with the need to move, he curled his hands to fists.
Xander talked a few more minutes, giving instructions regarding the mobilization of resources, as he finished making the tea he’d started. “Do you know if Chris is in town? No, no, I’ll call her myself.” He hung up the phone and gave Flynn a long, indecipherable look.
What could Flynn say? I’m sorry was paltry and wholly inadequate. I’m sorry didn’t undo any of this. He had no excuse, no justification. Under the circumstances, the fact that he loved Pru and Ari both meant nothing. He’d stayed intending to make their lives better, not cause them more pain.
“We’re going to find her.” Xander’s tone was hard. So was his expression. But Flynn took some comfort in the other man’s conviction. Xander loved this child, too, and he wouldn’t rest until she was home. For however much longer that lasted.
They both looked up as Pru and Kennedy came back into the room.
“The UT t-shirt isn’t in her room, and it looks like maybe she took a few other jeans and t-shirts, along with one of her hoodies. And her piggy bank was empty,” Pru reported.
“The food and water weren’t up there, so it looks like she took those with her,” Kennedy added.
“That’s good. We don’t have immediate concerns about dehydration. You said she left her phone. Any other electronic devices?” Xander asked.
“No. We’d been talking about getting her a Kindle with all the Percy Jackson books for her birthday, but that’s not for another three months.” Pru knit her hands.
“That’s fine. Cell reception is often spotty up here anyway. Is she on social media?”
A brief look of horror crossed her face. “I…don’t know. That’s a thing a parent should know.” Her voice shot up half an octave.
“Kacy would probably know if she were,” Flynn said.
“I’ll call and get up with her mom,” Kennedy said. She gave Pru’s arm a squeeze before walking out of the room.
“Okay. It’s okay. Now I’ve got to make some more phone calls, get some things organized. You’re gonna sit right down here and drink your tea.” Xander brought a mug over to the table.
“I don’t want tea,” she snapped. “I want my daughter!”
“I know it. But you’re gonna need your voice to call for her when we get out searching here in a little bit. So drink your tea and soothe your throat.”
She looked so brittle, Flynn was afraid to touch her, even in comfort. But she sat and began to sip at the tea. He parked himself at the kitchen window, watching the yard so he didn’t say something to make the whole situation worse. Within half an hour, the drive was as full of vehicles as it normally was for one of their Friday night jam sessions. But there was no celebratory air here. Flynn’s heart squeezed as he recognized Porter and Logan; Kennedy’s boss, Denver; Ford McIntosh, and half a dozen other friends he’d made through his time here. Some kind of command center was being set up on the porch.
“Glad you could make it.” Xander’s voice brought Flynn around to see a woman and a dog standing in the kitchen doorway.
The woman crossed to him, offering her hand. “Of course. I’m just relieved I was in town.”
“Chris, this is my sister-in-law, Pru and her fiancé, Flynn Bohannon.”
Chris nodded and shook Pru’s hand, as Xander continued introductions. “This is Chris Sargent and Dash, from the Stone County Search and Rescue team. They’re going to help us figure out which way to look.”
“Search and rescue?” Pru’s face went impossibly paler. “I thought they only came out for extreme circumstances.”
“Normally yes, but I happened to be in town, and I’m happy to help,” Chris said easily. “I’ll need you to find something Ari has worn recently that hasn’t been washed. Dirty socks or pajamas. Something she’d have worn close to the skin.”
This Flynn could handle. “She brought laundry down this morning. I don’t think it got started yet.” He bolted for the laundry room and dug through her hamper. Thank God, they’d started on guest sheets first. Back in the kitchen he held out the white, pink, and gold fabric with Princess of Sassytown printed on the side. “They’re the socks she wore horseback riding the other day.”
“Good. That’s great. It’ll be exactly what we need.” The dog sitting beside her practically vibrated with bright-eyed excitement, but he didn’t move other than to look to Chris for orders. “Dash will use this to catch Ari’s scent and will figure out which way she went. As she lives here and has spent a lot of time around the yard, he may criss-cross a bit, but we’ll find her trail. Just be patient.”
“Go do your thing. Thanks for coming, Chris,” Xander said.
The woman nodded, then she and Dash headed outside.
“What do we do in the meantime?” Flynn demanded.
“You get prepped for a hike. Proper boots and packs. We don’t know how long we’ll be out.”
But Flynn knew. He’d stay out as long as it took.