Missing Pieces (11 page)

Chapter 43

Just before the final bell rang
at the end of the day, Mrs. Garcia gave our teacher an envelope. The teacher handed it to me as everyone left the room.

I couldn’t wait to look at it, but I had to. Bryce and I pushed through the crowds in the hall.

Skeeter came up beside me. “Hope you didn’t mind that I suggested your picture in art.”

I gritted my teeth and just stared ahead. The whole thing had given me a good idea, but I didn’t want to tell Skeeter.

“She’ll get over it,” Bryce said.

When we finally made it to the art room, I found a substitute wiping off the blackboard and gathering drawings. “Where’s Mr. Cheplosa?

“Doctor’s appointment. Back Monday.”

Monday
.
How can I wait until Monday?

Chapter 44

Ashley was really upset
about missing Mr. Cheplosa, so I tried to take her mind off it by asking her to tell me everything she knew about the case. It was strange that no one believed the baby was still alive except the mom.

Ashley helped me carry my stuff to Sam’s truck for my campout and asked if I wanted company. “I can sleep tomorrow,” she said.

I was glad, because as much as I wanted to be out spying, I didn’t really want to be alone.

Sam pulled into the driveway with Leigh, and it looked like they had both been to a funeral. He had hardly stopped when Leigh jumped out and raced inside.

“Did she pass her driving test?” I called out.

Sam frowned and shook his head. “She was doing fine until a dog ran in front of her.”

“Oh no,” Ashley said.

“Missed the dog but hit the curb. Flat tire. Instructor had to get out and change it. It wasn’t a pleasant drive home, if you know what I mean.”

“At least she didn’t run over the dog,” Ashley said.

Sam sighed. “Yeah, but somebody else did a few minutes later. Leigh saw the whole thing.”

“How awful,” Ashley said.

Some people say everything happens for a reason. Like maybe Leigh flunked her driver’s test because God knew she would plunge off a cliff the next day if she was driving. But if that was true, why didn’t God do something to keep my dad from getting on his plane the day he died?

Randy drove up and got out with a bouquet of flowers.

“Might want to hold off on those,” Sam said.

Chapter 45

Mom had balloons
and a congratulations banner strung across the dining-room entry, not to mention a cake in the shape of a car. Bryce whispered, “Good thing Mom didn’t make it in the shape of a mailbox or you-know-who would have smashed it by now.”

Mom told Randy that Leigh was too upset to talk and that she would call him later. Randy said he understood and gave Mom the flowers, which was nice. Maybe I’d tell that to the judge if Randy went to trial.

“You can tell her I didn’t pass my first test,” Randy said. “I don’t think she knows that.”

“I will,” Mom said, smiling.

I followed Mom upstairs and stood outside Leigh’s door. It was open a crack so I could hear.

“I don’t really care about the stupid license,” she sobbed. “It’s just that . . .”

“What?” Mom said.

Leigh groaned. “It’s times like this that I miss Mom the most. Not that you’re not doing a good job—”

“I understand,” Mom said.

“I just wish she hadn’t gotten on that plane. She said she’d always be there for me, and now she’s not.”

That was how I felt about my dad. Sam was nice, but he wasn’t my real dad. A tear trickled down my cheek as I listened. Then I went to my room.

I wished I could say something to Leigh that would convince her that God was real, he cared about how much she hurt, and he wanted her to know him. But she seemed so closed to God, the Bible, and everything I believed.

There were times when I’d be sitting in church, listening to what the pastor or somebody else said, and I’d think, “I wish Leigh could hear this right now.”

But the more I prayed that God would break through, the less Leigh seemed to be interested.

I try to have some sort of devotional each day, whether from a book or reading the Bible. The reading from my devotional that day was from Ephesians, chapter 5. “Imitate God, therefore, in everything you do, because you are his dear children. Live a life filled with love, following the example of Christ. He loved us and offered himself as a sacrifice for us, a pleasing aroma to God.”

I pulled out my diary and wrote:

God, other than praying for Leigh, I’m not sure there’s anything I can say that will help change her. I want to live a life of love for her and show her that you change people. Open her eyes and help me to be a good example for her, even when she really ticks me off.

Chapter 46

As soon as the sun went down
it got cold. I was glad Ashley and I were in the truck camper and not in a tent. There are no lights on our country road. Just the stars and the moon.

The batteries in my walkie-talkie were weak, but I figured there was enough juice to reach the house if I had to.

“What are you going to do with the picture of that girl if Mr. Cheplosa can age it?” I said.

Ashley peered into the darkness with the night-vision scope. “Maybe send it to the newspaper, make some flyers, stuff like that. There’s got to be a way to find her.”

“And you think the girl is alive?”

She shrugged. “All I know is that that open window bothers me. And it makes no sense that there wouldn’t be something left of the baby, even if she was burned. Those TV shows find DNA left over at every crime scene. Why not this one?”

“The firefighters and the cops investigated, Ash. They’re probably right.”

“Probably. But it won’t hurt to ask questions.”

Chapter 47

I finally got into a comfortable position
in the back of the truck. We had two air mattresses smushed up against the side. We finally moved them so I could lean against the wheel well and still see outside.

We played war for an hour with Bryce’s glow-in-the-dark cards. Bryce really gets into it, and it makes me laugh when I win.

In the middle of a game, he said, “Do you think Dad can see us from heaven?”

Interesting question when you’re playing war. “I don’t know. Why?”

“Some say dead people become angels and watch over them. I like to think Dad can see us and even help us.”

“You know people don’t become angels,” I said. “People are people and angels are angels. They don’t switch when they die. And angels don’t die anyway.”

“I know, but if Dad can’t see us, he’s going to miss us growing up and graduating and stuff like that. I bet he’d love watching us ride our ATVs.”

I had thought a lot about Dad being able to see us. Especially when I cried myself to sleep at night. Sometimes I’d imagine his voice, reading to me before I went to sleep. The first months after he died I could see him sitting there, rubbing my back with one hand as he held the book in the other. Now I had to look at his picture on my nightstand just to remember his face.

“Dad probably sees a lot more than we think,” I said.

Bryce sat up. He looked like something had just stung him. “God knows everything, right?”

“If he doesn’t, we’re in big trouble.”

“He must know if this girl is alive, and
if
she is,
where
she is.”

“Yeah. ’Course.”

“Let’s ask him to help us find her.”

Now I sat up. “Or give us a sign in case she’s already in heaven.”

Bryce nodded.

“You go first,” I said.

“Okay.” Bryce closed his eyes. “Dear God, Ash and I need your help again. Thanks for answering our prayers about Boo Heckler and my math test the other day. But now we need to know about a little girl named . . .”

“Danielle.”

“. . . Yeah. We don’t even know if she’s alive, or if her mom is just hoping, but if she
is
alive, could you help us find her?”

It was my turn. I prayed that Mr. Cheplosa would be there Monday and “that you’d help us use the picture to find her if she’s alive.”

An engine revved and tires crunched gravel. I opened my eyes to two headlights shining into the back of the truck.