Together With You (5 page)

Dear Lord . . . No.

Carly mentally ran through pediatric CPR, praying they wouldn't need it. By the time she reached the lip of the tile, Dr. Tremaine had circled to the deep end. Chest heaving, he raked his hand through his hair. If Penny had been in the water, he would have jumped in and dragged her out. Carly breathed easier, but the relief was short-lived.

Across the pool, Mrs. Howell stood frozen by the iron fence that marked the edge of the yard and a steep slope that faced the Pacific Ocean. Any other time, Carly would have savored the view, but today she approached Mrs. Howell with her head full of fear and the old guilt caused by losing a child.

Dr. Tremaine reached Mrs. Howell first. “Where's my daughter?”

“I-I—” Ashen and gray, she broke into choked sobs. “She was incorrigible. I put her down for a nap. I thought it would calm her.”

“Where is she?”

“I don't know.” Cringing, Mrs. Howell pressed her hands to her cheeks, gasped for air, then turned to Carly with a bleak plea in her eyes. “I've never had this happen before. I lost her. I can't believe it.”

“We'll find her.” Carly laid her hand on Mrs. Howell's sleeve and squeezed. She'd once stood in this woman's shoes, though instead of facing a parent, she had been accountable to her boss. “
You
became too
involved with her, Carly. You lost your professional distance, and
Allison paid for it.”
So had Carly, but she'd learned her lesson. Mustering a new calm, she focused on Dr. Tremaine. “Does Penny have a favorite hiding place?”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Her closet. I've found her there before.”

Mrs. Howell sniffed. “I looked there first. I looked everywhere, but it's such a big house. It's just so—”

“How long has she been missing?” he asked.

The woman wrung her hands. “I-I don't know. Kyle left for baseball practice around eleven. Eric left with Nathan after lunch. I tried to read Penny a story, but she wouldn't hold still. She kept kicking the coffee table and wouldn't stop even when I counted to three. I tried everything. I thought a nap would help.”

A muscle twitched in Dr. Tremaine's jaw. “When did you see Penny last?”

“An hour ago.”

With his lips sealed, he inhaled rapidly through his nose. Carly braced for an explosion, but instead he spoke to Mrs. Howell with the cool detachment of a man in control. “What were you doing for an entire hour?”

“I fell asleep,” she admitted. “It's been such a difficult day, and I-I dozed off on the couch. When I went to get Penny out of her room, she was gone. I can't believe this happened. I've never—”

“We'll find her,” Carly said again, but her heart sank to her toes. She had spouted the same vain platitudes about Allison and never seen her again, didn't know if the teenager was dead or alive.

All business, Dr. Tremaine gave a curt nod. “I'll check the house. Mrs. Howell, knock on the neighbors' doors. Maybe someone has seen her.”

“Yes, sir.” She hurried back through the house, leaving Carly alone with Dr. Tremaine.

“Where should I start?” she asked.

“Check the outside, including the old garage over there.” He pointed at a low outbuilding behind a block wall. “It should be locked, but Kyle keeps his baseball stuff in there. He might have left it open.”

They walked in opposite directions, Dr. Tremaine returning to the house and Carly pacing along the perimeter of the fence. The iron bars were four inches apart, like prison bars, and they didn't bend even a little. Penny couldn't possibly have slipped through them. Even so, Carly scoured the steep hill with her eyes. Seeing nothing, she turned at the corner of the fence and the block wall, saw an open gate, and spotted Miss Rabbit's purple ballet outfit on the ground. Hot on Penny's trail, Carly raced in that direction.

R
yan hurried up the stairs to the second floor, repeatedly calling Penny's name in the most normal tone he could muster. “Where are you, sweetheart?”

He listened for a giggle or even a sob, anything to indicate she was breathing and present. “Penny?”

Still no answer.

Methodical by nature, he started the search in her room by pulling open the closet doors. Toys and clothes lay on the floor in a jumble that was uniquely Penny, but there was no sign of her. Leaving the doors wide, he peered under the unmade bed, then turned to the window that looked into the thick canopy of an elm tree. He had picked this room for Penny so she could enjoy hearing the birds. Now he was worried that she'd reached for a sparrow and fallen to the ground. With his heart in his throat, he pushed the lacy curtains aside, checked the screen, and breathed a sigh when he saw the latches securely fastened.

He checked his own room next. It only took a minute, because it was military neat. Orderliness had been trained into him, which made the messiness of Penny's mind even more of a mystery to him.

Next he surveyed Eric's room, a mess beyond description.

Then Kyle's room, a relaxed assortment of clothes, books, and sports posters on the walls.

Ryan checked the bathrooms, the linen closet, even the door to the crawl space over the living room. There were a thousand hiding places in the big old house, and Ryan knew every one of them. He'd grown up here and had spent hours exploring and making up games. If he hadn't become a doctor, he would have been a marine biologist exploring exotic islands. Instead, he followed in his father's footsteps, rebelling only enough to become an ophthalmologist instead of a neurosurgeon.

With Penny missing, he wished he'd become anything but what he was—a failure as a husband and father, a jaded cynic, a prisoner to mistakes he couldn't fix. Even worse, Penny was a prisoner, too, a prisoner who'd escaped and needed to be found for her own safety.

He thudded down the front stairs to check the first floor, including the nanny quarters on the far side of the house. As his foot hit the tiled entry hall, the doorbell rang. Maybe a neighbor had found Penny. Or maybe it was a police officer with horrible news.

In that blink between hope and certainty, Ryan stared down the abyss of utter helplessness. He wished he could pray like his mother and Fran or sing “Amazing Grace” like Carly, but his only comfort was the randomness of fate. With his chest tight, he opened the door. Instead of a neighbor with Penny or a police officer, he came face-to-face with Denise, all smiles and holding a stuffed kangaroo as tall as Penny.

“Pretty cool, isn't it?” She held the toy out for him to admire. “I picked it up in Sydney last week. Penny's going to love it.”

“Uh—” Ryan froze.

Denise tipped her head. “I know I'm early. Is this a bad time?”

“No. Yes. I mean . . . uh . . .” He was stammering. Ryan never stammered.

With her hair tight in a bun, Denise exuded the calm authority
of someone accustomed to being in control. That authority was well deserved. A few years ago, she had been in a fiery crash landing and saved a hundred lives. The heroine of the day, she'd been interviewed on all the major networks.

Maybe she could work that magic to find Penny. “Come in,” he said, steadier now. “I'm in the middle of another nanny problem.”

She let out a huff. “So what happened this time?”

“In spite of great references, today's nanny fell asleep on the couch. Penny's hiding somewhere.”

“Hiding?” Denise's perfectly shaped brows pulled into crooked lines. “Does that mean you can't find her?”

With each word, her voice hit a new high in volume and tone. Ryan wanted to plead the Fifth Amendment but settled for dodging the question like a bad politician. “It means we're looking for her.”

Kangaroo in hand, Denise called up the front stairwell. “Penny, it's Aunt DeeDee. I have a present for you.”

Daring to hope, he listened for footsteps pounding down the stairs.

Nothing.

“Penny?” Denise called again. When there was no reply, she marched down the hall to the kitchen, set the kangaroo on the floor, whirled around, and stared at Ryan with the authority of a Supreme Court judge. “I want to know
exactly
what happened.”

“Penny likes to run off. It's some sort of game. I'll tell you more after we find her.”

Denise snatched her phone out of her pocket. “I'm calling the police. How long has she been gone?”

“It's too soon.”

“How long?” she demanded. “And is this nanny missing, too? Did she kidnap her? We need an Amber Alert.”

Even if Penny had walked out the front door, it seemed impossible that a stranger could have snatched her from this quiet street. But how far could she wander in an hour? Maybe it was time to
call the police after all. Except that phone call would be a black mark on his record as a father, and Denise was keeping score. Every minute counted, but logic told him Penny was somewhere in the house or close by.

“Let's finish searching the house,” he said to her. “Today's nanny is checking with the neighbors, and a woman I'm interviewing is looking out back. If we don't find her in five minutes, we'll call the police.”

Denise lowered her phone, but the glare in her eyes burned hotter. “I'll give you three, then I'm calling for that Amber Alert.”

Code Adams.

Amber Alerts.

Denise was right. Danger lurked everywhere. Even two minutes was too long if Penny was in trouble. “I'll call now. Keep looking.”

As Denise stepped into the backyard, Ryan picked up the house phone and raised his hand to punch in 9-1-1.

Carly snatched the purple ballerina outfit off the concrete and headed for the old garage next to the house. Designed for one car, it had probably been built with the original residence in a distant decade. Dirt stains marred the white stucco sides, but the overhead door was modern, complete with keypad access. With the ballerina outfit in hand, she brushed by a spindly shrub surrounded by an apron of dark berries on the concrete walk.

When a berry squished under her shoe, she looked down and saw small, purplish footprints leading to a side door left ajar. She eased it open until a fan of light revealed a 1960-something Chevy Impala, a car like the one she'd seen in Polaroids of her grandparents as newlyweds, except this was a pristine white convertible with the top down to reveal a cherry red interior.

The car charmed her, but it was the sight of Penny in the backseat, asleep and hugging Miss Rabbit, that made Carly's heart
thump with relief. Bending at the waist, she laid a hand on her shoulder. “Penny, wake up.”

Penny rolled to her side. As she pulled her knees to her chest, Carly saw berry-colored footprints on the upholstery. A quick glance revealed Penny's exact entry into the car. She had opened the passenger door, climbed in the front seat, and walked over the console to the back.

Considering the Impala was fully restored, the stains were more than a mess. Penny had done real damage. How Dr. Tremaine reacted to the news would be a telling moment, maybe the moment Carly decided whether or not to take the job. She expected him to be annoyed, but if he valued the car over the child, she'd have a reason to leave.

She gave Penny a second little shake. “Come on, sweetheart. Your daddy's worried. Let's go find him.”

With her eyelids fluttering, Penny rolled to her back, saw Carly, and bolted upright with Miss Rabbit flopping in her hand. “You're the animal lady.”

“That's right.”

“You made Miss Rabbit talk.” Penny scrambled across the seat and stood to climb out of the car. “Lance is upstairs. Let's get him.”

Unmindful of dings, dents, and berry juice, Penny flung a leg over the side. Carly lifted her up and out, and they left the garage with Penny clutching Miss Rabbit and Carly holding Penny's hand. In a
Wizard of Oz
kind of way, they made quite a trio—a child with a damaged brain, a stuffed animal that needed a child's heart, and an ex-social worker who lacked the courage to care again.

Hand in hand, they walked into the backyard with Carly humming “Follow the Yellow Brick Road.” She wasn't ready to take the job, but finding Penny filled her with some of her old hope. With her heart lighter than it had been in months, she could almost forgive herself for losing Allison.

Penny had once heard a doctor say her brain was like a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces. She didn't understand what that meant, or what FASD stood for. She only knew she was different. When adults talked, she heard some of the words but not all of them. Other times the words meant something different to the adult than they did to her, like what happened this morning with Mrs. Howell. When the nanny said,
“Make
your bed,”
Penny said back to her,
“Make it
do what?”

Things like that happened all the time. Penny didn't care about making her bed, whatever that meant, but she cared a lot about a place called heaven. Aunt DeeDee said her mother was there and looking down at her. If that was true, why couldn't Penny see her? And if heaven was a place, why couldn't Penny find it and be with Mommy again?

That's why she had wandered off at the mall—that and the awful noise and bad smells in the arcade. And that's why today she had hurried to the garage when Mrs. Howell fell asleep. Last night Dr. Tremaine told Kyle his old car took him back in time to when he was Kyle's age. Hoping to go back in time and find her mommy, Penny had climbed in, closed her eyes and . . . it worked! The car didn't take her to her mother in heaven, but it brought Carly from the Animal Factory.

Holding on to both Miss Rabbit and Carly, Penny skipped through the gate leading to the backyard. A breeze blew through the fence and suddenly she wanted . . . Penny didn't know what she wanted, but Carly was here and that made her happy enough to pull free and spin in a circle, which she did, just because she wanted to spin.

Carly lunged after her, took her by the hand, and together they passed the swimming pool where Penny could be a mermaid. She'd seen the movie about Ariel a hundred times, or at least pieces of it, because it was too hard to sit still for so long.

“Can you swim?” Carly asked.

Penny didn't know what Carly meant, but she said yes because she thought that was what Carly wanted to hear. When Penny had lived with her mother, they spent a lot of time in the pool at their apartment. Penny knew how to kick and move her arms, something her mother called
the dog paddle
, which made no sense to Penny, because she wasn't a dog. Dogs scared her, but she liked cats because they didn't bark and jump on her.

She and Carly were five steps from the house when the sliding glass door whooshed open and Aunt DeeDee ran out with her arms stretched wide and her mouth hanging open like a big fish.

“Penny! Oh, my word—”

Aunt DeeDee hugged her so hard that Penny couldn't breathe. Aunt DeeDee was crying, too, like the day Penny's mother left for heaven. Penny didn't understand that trip at all. How did riding in a boat and putting ashes in the ocean get a person to heaven? Aunt DeeDee said Penny was too young to understand, and that someday she would explain it better. But Penny wanted to know now. She had even asked Dr. Tremaine the day he told her he was her daddy, but he just said her mommy was gone forever. If the magic car didn't work, maybe Penny would find a boat and look for her in the ocean.

She wiggled free from Aunt DeeDee and saw Dr. Tremaine come through the door with the big house phone pressed to his ear. He said something like, “We found her. Yes. Yes. She's safe.” Then he set the phone on a brick planter, came up next to her, and dropped down on one knee.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He laid his hand on her shoulder in a nice way. “Where were you?”

She worried Dr. Tremaine would be mad, so she lied. “I don't know.”