two months ago Tatum met this rich kid, Del Harcourt, at a party. He’s spoiled and selfish and I’m pretty sure he hit her. She had a bruise on her arm, a bad one.”
“You saw the bruise?” Brown’s eyes widened.
“Not at first. She kept her arm covered. But I grabbed her once—” which sounded bad “—and she flinched. I made her show me her arm. The bruise was faded, almost gone, but it was from a fist, I’m sure of it. She insists she walked into an old furniture spindle in the barn.”
“And that’s the trouble you’ve had? You didn’t believe her about a bruise?”
Tanner didn’t like the way Morris was studying him. But he wanted Tatum found. At whatever risk to him.
“Two days ago I threw the punk out of my house and told Tatum she was not to see or speak with him again. And I took away her smartphone.”
He felt a cold knot of fear as something else occurred to him. It should have been his first thought. Would have been if Tatum hadn’t been so crazy about the asshole.
“There is someone,” he said, his mind coldly calculating. “The woman who gave birth to us...” He couldn’t bring himself to say mother. “Last we knew, her name was Tammy Malone, but it changed frequently. She’s usually high, homeless and spreading her legs, and once tried to sell my other sister for a fix. Usually I wouldn’t expect Tatum to have anything to do with her, but now that she’s mad at me... Anyway, if Tammy sees money for herself in having Tatum, she might try to work her.”
“Is she in the area?”
“I have no idea. Not recently that I know of.”
“How long has it been since you’ve heard from her?”
Last time she’d come begging for money. “A year, maybe two.” He didn’t mark his calendar with things he preferred to forget.
“Has she been in touch with Tatum in the past?”
“Not since she was five.” It couldn’t be Tammy. Pray God it wasn’t Tammy. Tatum was at a vulnerable age. And partially because of him, Talia was out of her life and...
“Did you sue her for custody of Tatum?”
“No. She signed her and my other two siblings over willingly.” To avoid a jail sentence.
It was a long shot. In ten years, Tammy had never contacted Tatum. There was no reason to panic.
“I see here that Tatum has an old flip phone with no texting capability.” Morris looked down at the clipboard on her lap.
“That’s right. It was an old one of mine. I called my provider and changed her line over temporarily. She has no data plan at all. For a month. She lied to me. I can’t tolerate that.” Tatum had too much free time, too much lack of supervision, to allow for lying. He had to be able to trust her. “But I couldn’t just take her phone away,” he added. “It’s not safe for a young girl to be at school without a phone these days.”
“Smartphones have tracking apps on them.” Brown looked apologetic as he explained the dilemma Tanner had unknowingly caused.
“Her number goes immediately to voice mail,” Tanner told them.
Morris pulled a charger from the black leather satchel she wore on her shoulder. “I found this in her room,” she said as Tanner recognized the charger for his old phone. And took hope.
Until another thought chased that one.
“She wasn’t planning to be gone long.” He voiced his first thought. And then, more slowly, his second. “Which makes her disappearance look more like she didn’t leave of her own accord.”
“You said her purse is missing.”
“Yes.”
“Was there anything else missing?”
“No. Not even her retainer case.” Tatum was always careful to store the expensive mouthpiece carefully. Her straight teeth meant a lot to her.
Obviously she’d been planning to return home that evening. So...he just had to be patient. Wait. She’d show up.
And have one hell of a lot of explaining to do.
“We’re going to need to take something personal of hers,” Brown said as the two detectives stood. “A toothbrush. Or hairbrush...”
For DNA. Tanner watched television on occasion. He knew why they were asking.
And handed over a couple of items from Tatum’s bathroom drawer without saying another word.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I CAN’T TELL you what to do, Lila, you know that. I represent Tatum Malone, not The Lemonade Stand, on this one.”
That was the funny thing about volunteer service—lines blurred when there wasn’t someone paying the bill. When there wasn’t someone with whom the buck stopped.
“I have to call the police.” Lila spoke softly, walking with Sedona toward Maddie Estes’s bungalow. The special-needs woman had no idea what was going on, and Tatum hadn’t been alerted yet, either. “She’s a minor and I can’t keep her here without guardian permission.”
“That’s a fact of law, yes.”
“But who’s to say when I found out that she’s an official missing person?”
“Lynn Duncan.” The live-in nurse practitioner who was not only Maddie Estes’s friend and protector, but soon to be her sister-in-law, too.
“Lynn’s not going to say anything to anyone.”
The Lemonade Stand was a place where secrets were safe. For good reason.
And sometimes, for that good reason, law enforcement looked the other way when they couldn’t conform to the letter.
“I’ll take her to the Garden,” Sedona said. “It’s almost dark. We should be alone there. I’ll do my best to find out what’s going on and then figure out a legal way to keep her from being sucked up into a system that might or might not be able to help her.”
Lila’s footsteps were soft whispers on the meandering sidewalk. Floral scents wafted from the gardens on both sides of the path.
“If there’s no proof of wrongdoing, no viable reason to remove Tatum from her home, to take away custody from a family member, a judge could determine that it’s in Tatum’s best interest to go home. A judge can order her home,” she said.
“I know.” Lila sounded less than satisfied.
“But you’d like it if I could get temporary placement here. At least until we get this figured out.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.”
* * *
“I NEED TO speak with Talia Malone, please.”
“Yes, sir, can I say who’s calling?”
With his back to the room, Tanner stared out the kitchen window. His vines were out there. Sucking water and nutrients out of the earth. Growing. A testimony to the resilience of life. And to its fragility, as well.
“Tanner,” he said into the cell phone he was holding so tightly his knuckles shone white. Unless she was onstage, in the middle of...well...what she did up there, they’d call her to the phone.
“Tanner? What’s wrong?”
He didn’t have to wait long. And she was out of breath. He didn’t want to know why.
“I tried your cell, first. When you didn’t answer...”
“It’s