told her as she clicked off her phone. “Though I hope by the time they get here, we won’t need them.” She looked toward Beulah Road as if hoping to see the blue Honda.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Janine said. “The one time I let her go someplace alone, and now she’s…Who knows where she is?”
Gloria put a gentle arm around Janine’s shoulders. “I’m sure she’s fine,” she said. “And Sophie had the best time, Janine. I was so glad she was finally able to do something fun with the rest of the girls. I just can’t get over how well she seems.”
“I know,” Janine said. “But she still needs to be careful. To watch her fluid intake and her—”
“And her diet,” Gloria finished the sentence for her. “We were careful with her, Janine. We were vigilant. Although she knows what she’s supposed to do to take care of herself. She’s very sophisticated about her condition.”
“Yes, she is,” Janine admitted. “But it’s gotten more complicated because of the study she’s in. Her fluid needs are always changing.”
“She told me about Herbalina.”
“What did she say about it?” Janine asked, curious.
“That she hated getting it at first. The needle was painful and all. But she knows it’s made her feel so much better. And it’s given her more freedom at night from being hooked up to that machine.”
“It has.” She remembered how Sophie had cried the first time that fat needle had pierced her vein. The last couple of weeks or so, though, she’d been so brave, sticking her arm out for Dr. Schaefer’s attack. Janine owed that change to Lucas and his courage tree.
“Is it a cure?” Gloria asked. “Or just a treatment.”
Janine sighed. “Depends on who you ask,” she said. “The doctor in charge of the study believes it can ultimately cure her. But Sophie’s regular doctor thinks it just buys a little time, and not much of it at that.” She looked away from Gloria, toward the road, tears burning her eyes again.
Gloria squeezed her shoulders. “Even if that’s the case, at least she’s able to enjoy herself right now.”
“Exactly my thought,” Janine said. Although she knew she was lying. Deep inside, she could not settle for mere temporary relief for Sophie. She wanted Sophie to have the chance at a normal life, the same chance Gloria’s daughter had.
“She’s such a sensitive little girl,” Gloria commented. “I don’t mean that the way it sounds,” she added quickly. “It’s not like she’s overly sensitive to what people say to her, or anything like that. But she’s very sensitive to the needs of the other girls. Brianna was homesick that first night, and Sophie told her jokes to take her mind off it.”
“That’s my girl.” Janine smiled. Sophie would always talk about the other kids in the hospital with sympathy. She felt sorry for them for being sick, as though she didn’t recognize that she was one of them herself.
“She said she was worried about you,” Gloria said.
“About me?”
“That you’d be lonely without her over the weekend.”
Janine shook her head, pressing a fist to her mouth. “I don’t want her to worry about me,” she said. Yet she knew that Sophie always did. More than once, Janine had stood in a hospital corridor, peeking unnoticed into Sophie’s room. Sophie’s pale, freckled face would be contorted with pain and misery, but her features would shift instantly into a devil-may-care smile once she realized her mother could see her. What about right now? she wondered. Wherever Sophie was, she had to know that Janine was worried about her. And that would upset her. Sophie had always taken on too much responsibility for the feelings of others.
A police car pulled into the parking lot, turning toward the southeast corner, slowing as it neared them. The car came to a stop next to Gloria’s van, and Janine felt her hope pour into the young officer who stepped out from behind the wheel. He looked little more than a child himself, though, as he walked toward them. She could see the sunburn on his nose and the gawky way he carried himself, as if he’d suddenly found himself in his father’s police uniform and didn’t know quite how to wear it.
“Are you the two ladies with the late Girl Scouts?”
“That’s right,” Gloria replied, but Janine was struck by the insensitivity of his words. The late Girl Scouts. She supposed it was her own sensitivity that was putting her on edge.
“They were due here at three.” Gloria told him about the trip back from the camp and gave him the names of Alison and the two girls. He wrote the information down slowly, in neat block letters, on a small notepad.
“Are you sure she took the same route as you?” he asked Gloria. He pronounced the word rowt.
“I assumed so. I mean, we followed each other going up there. I imagine she would have taken the same route back.”
“But you don’t know that for sure.”
“No.”
“Did you notice anything unusual when you were driving back? Any construction or anything going on along the side of the road—maybe a crafts fair or something—that they might have stopped for?”
“No. But I wasn’t really looking, either.”
The young man studied the words on his notepad as though he wasn’t sure what to make of them. “Okay, first of all, let’s get everyone down here. The troop leader’s roommate, your husband.” He nodded toward Janine, and she thought of correcting him, but there was little point in doing so just then. “The other girl’s parents,” he continued. “And I’m going to call in my supervisor. He has a phone and can check with the dispatchers along the route to see if any accidents have been reported. Unfortunately, only a small part of the route is in Fairfax County, so we’ll have to coordinate with the other police barracks between here and the camp. Of course, we’ve got a recent change of shift, so whatever dispatchers are on duty now might not know about any accidents that occurred on the other shifts.” He tapped the end of his pen against his chin as he stared at the notepad, and Janine grew impatient.
“Wouldn’t they have a record of any accidents, though?” she asked.
“Oh, sure, of course. I was just thinking out loud. Shouldn’t do that.” He grinned at her, and she looked away from him. He was too young to have any children of his own, she thought. He had no idea what this felt like. She watched him stride over to his car just as Gloria’s phone rang.
Gloria quickly brought her phone to her ear, but the caller was only Holly’s mother, and Janine wanted to scream out loud with her disappointment.
“Right,” Gloria said into the phone. “She’s riding in the car with Alison and one other Brownie, Sophie Donohue, and they haven’t shown up here yet. I’m sure everything’s okay, but we’ve contacted the police just in case…yes, you should come over. The police want everyone to be here.”
Somehow, knowing that the police wanted everyone together at Meadowlark Gardens made the gravity of the situation even more real.
“I’ll call my ex-husband,” Janine said, dialing his number on her own phone.
There was no answer on Joe’s end, just his taped message about being unable to come to the phone right then.
Yet another cell phone turned off, she thought. But at least with Joe, she could be reasonably sure where to find him…and who would be there with him.
CHAPTER THREE
Joe had never seen Paula quite so vicious on the tennis court. He dove to return her serve, missing the ball and nearly tripping over his own feet in the process.
Paula must finally be pulling out of her period of mourning, he thought, as he sent the ball back