the same frightening experience at all.
Joe touched Janine’s arm. “I’ll take Paula home, then meet you over at Ayr Creek, okay?” he asked.
She nodded, uncertain if it would help or hurt to have Joe there when she spoke to her parents.
She walked toward her car. It seemed like weeks had passed since she’d driven into the lot, full of excitement at seeing her daughter. Inside the car, she felt the emptiness in the back seat where Sophie should have been, and she kept turning to glance behind her, as though Sophie might pop up, yelling “Surprise!” and telling her this had been some silly kind of trick, some crazy scheme of Alison’s. But Sophie was not in the car, and as Janine drove through the dark, winding back roads on the outskirts of Vienna, she said a prayer that, wherever Sophie was, she would be alive and healthy and, somehow, unafraid.
CHAPTER SIX
Janine didn’t drive directly home. She pulled out of the parking lot at Meadowlark Gardens and onto Beulah Road, glancing in her rearview mirror as if she still expected the blue Honda to turn into the lot any moment, then drove as quickly as she could toward Lucas’s property. He lived at the end of a cul-de-sac on an acre of mostly wooded land bordering Wolf Trap National Park. She parked in the driveway near the small, rambler and walked along the darkened, familiar path through the woods to reach the tree house. She was relieved to see that the lights were on in his living room; she would hate to wake him.
Gripping the banister, she climbed the stairs that circled the oak tree. He must have heard her, because he was waiting for her on the deck by the time she reached it. Wordlessly, he pulled her into his arms. She breathed in the soap-and-earth scent of him, feeling enclosed, but not truly comforted; sheltered, but not safe. Nowhere would she feel safe right now.
“You must know Sophie’s missing,” she whispered.
“Yes.” His breath was warm on her neck.
“How?”
“Cop came to ask me some questions.”
She pressed her hands against his back. “Oh, no,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. Is there any news?”
She pulled away from him, running her hands through her hair. “Nothing,” she said. “Joe and I drove all the way up to the camp and back again, trying to cover the route she would have followed back to Vienna. There was no sign of Alison’s—the troop leader’s—car anywhere. And we must have talked to every gas station attendant and waitress between here and there. They’ve just disappeared.”
“Come in,” he said. He guided her into his small living room, an arm around her shoulders. “Have you eaten anything?”
“I can’t.”
“Iced tea? Soda?”
She shook her head. The thought of trying to get anything down her throat nearly made her gag.
Lowering herself onto the built-in sofa in his living room, she suddenly began to cry. “I feel so helpless,” she said, accepting the handkerchief he handed her and blotting it to her eyes.
He pulled one of the captain’s chairs in front of her and sat down, taking her right hand in both of his. “Tell me everything,” he said. “What do the cops think?”
She ran her fingers over the blue splint on his wrist as she wearily answered his questions, and Lucas suggested the same possible explanations for the disappearance of the girls that she had gone over with Joe and the police and Gloria. They were lost. They’d fallen asleep somewhere and forgotten the time. They’d taken a recreational detour. The explanations sounded weaker now, in the middle of the night, and for the first time, Janine allowed the worst to enter her mind.
“What if she’s dead?” she asked Lucas. “Children disappear all the time. They’re always found dead somewhere.”
“Children don’t disappear all the time, and they are rarely found dead,” he said softly. “They’re simply the ones you hear about. It doesn’t do any good to start thinking that way, Jan.”
“She’s supposed to have dialysis tonight,” she said, “and she needs her Herbalina IV tomorrow.”
Lucas nodded. “I know. I was thinking about that. Have you ever asked her doctor what would happen if she missed an IV?”
She shook her head. “I would never allow that to happen.”
“You should call him right now.”
“Schaefer? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Yes, but I think the police should have a very clear picture of her illness. Did you tell them?”
“Yes. But not in great detail. Not anything about what would happen if she misses that IV.”
“They should know, Jan, don’t you think?” Lucas asked. “They can get the information to the media, and the media can get it out on the airwaves. They need to know how urgent this is. If—and this is only an if—Sophie’s been kidnapped, by the Scout leader or someone else, and the kidnapper hears that Sophie needs treatment right away…well, maybe he or she has a soft spot in his heart and would drop her off at a hospital or something.”
She nodded. He was right, and making the call would give her something to do to ease the helplessness. “His number’s stored in my cell, but can I use your phone?” she asked. “I don’t want to tie mine up.”
He handed her his phone and she dialed the number. It was after one in the morning, and the woman at Schaefer’s answering service sounded annoyed at being disturbed.
“I need to speak with Dr. Schaefer,” Janine said. “It’s an emergency.”
“If this is an emergency, you should hang up and call 911,” the woman said.
“No. Not that sort of emergency. Please…just get in touch with him and ask him to call Janine Donohue right away. Only not at my usual number.” She gave the woman Lucas’s number, then hung up the phone. Her hand was shaking.
The doctor called within five minutes. He sounded wide-awake, although his usually faint New England accent was more pronounced than she’d ever heard it before.
“Is Sophie all right?” he asked, and Janine was grateful for the genuine concern in his voice.
“I don’t know,” she said. “She went to a Girl Scout camp this weekend and she hasn’t come home. She and another girl and their leader are all…missing. They were due back at three. The police are involved, but there’s no trace of them. And I’m worried she won’t be found in time to get her IV tomorrow. Will she…will she be all right without it?”
There was a long silence on Schaefer’s end of the phone line.
“Dr. Schaefer?” she prodded, wondering if he had fallen asleep.
Finally he spoke. “This sounds very serious,” he said.
“Yes, it is, but right now I’m just worried about her physical condition. What will happen if she’s not back in time for her appointment tomorrow? And she’s supposed to have dialysis tonight.”
He hesitated again. She would have chalked it up to sleepiness on his part had it not been for the fact that this slow reaction time was his usual style. “As soon as she arrives tomorrow, bring her in,” he said. “Don’t worry about the appointment time.”
“What if she doesn’t arrive, though? I mean, tomorrow. What happens if she misses tomorrow’s IV altogether? And what if she misses Thursday’s, too?” She looked at Lucas, who was leaning toward her, his arms on his knees.
“The obvious,” Schaefer said.
“What do you mean, ‘the obvious’?” she asked.
Lucas scowled, apparently annoyed with the