But this was all my fault. I was the only person left to take care of this kid and I should’ve known that leaving her for the entire day was a mistake. She was still struggling through so many issues and I should’ve known this was too much to ask of her.
“I’ve looked everywhere,” Gail said for the tenth time, wringing her hands. “I don’t even know how she could’ve gotten out. I’ve been here all night with my crocheting. I would’ve heard her or—”
“It’s all right,” I said to her as Shay came down the staircase. “Anything?”
She shook her head. “Her backpack is gone. The sword too.”
My stomach turned.
“Fuck.” I ran both hands down my face. “I gotta get out there. I have to search the land.”
Shay hooked a hand around my arm as I moved toward the door. “Slow down. Think. There are only a few places she’d go. Dogs, goats, maybe cows. Right?”
“Right.” I blew out a breath. “But we don’t know how long she’s been out there, Shay, and she doesn’t know the land at night. It’s a three-mile walk to the dairy barn from here. One wrong turn and she falls in a stream or veers off the trail and walks into a coyote den or—”
Shay held up a finger. “Don’t do that. This isn’t the time to think about the worst possible outcomes. She is smart and she is capable. Keep telling yourself that. We’re going to find her and we’re going to bring her home.” She gave me a serious nod that said I wasn’t to argue with her. “Let’s get everyone organized so we can split up and cover as much ground as possible.”
I reached for her hand. “You’re staying with me. Okay? I can’t handle losing both of my girls today.”
“We’ll find her together. We’ll bring her home.”
I turned to Gail, saying, “I need you to stay here and call the chief of police. You have his home number. Wake him the fuck up, all right? And call the boys at the oyster farm. Ask them to send their boats up to this end of the cove and circle the perimeter until we find her. Tell them to get as close to the shore as they can.”
She picked her phone up from the table, her hands shaking. “Okay. Okay. I’ll do that.” Then, “Blankets,” she cried, upending the quilted bag seated on the table and pushing an armload of soft wool into my arms. “Take these. Please. I’m so sorry.”
“Call the chief of police,” I echoed. It was the best I could do. “And the oyster boys.”
I followed Shay outside where we found a crush of four-wheelers and pickup trucks, farm crew, dairy workers, and neighbors. Gail’s husband and four grandkids, all on horseback. Wheatie handed out flashlights and headlamps while Nyomi and Bones distributed walkies.
When he spotted me, Bones called, “We’re hauling up the floodlights from the orchard now. They’ll be here in ten.”
Wheatie held up a map as he passed Shay a pair of flashlights. “We’ve divvied up the farm into sections. Which one do you want, boss?”
I took the map from Wheatie. As much as I tried, I couldn’t focus on it. “We’re going back over her favorite places. The dog run, the goat enclosure, up to the farm stand. Then over to the dairy barn. Talk to me on the radio.” I slashed a hand through the air. “And no ATV accidents tonight. No rollovers. We don’t have time for that.”
“We know the drill,” he replied with a nod.
I motioned to the Castros and their horses. “Send them over to the dairy. They can cover more ground and they know the territory—”
“We know,” Wheatie interrupted. “Go. We have this.”
Bones handed me a radio. “I sent trucks down to the base of the hill to block traffic. No one is getting in or out unless we allow it.”
The police were going to love that. I clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, man.”
Shay followed me into the shed, silent as I settled behind the wheel of my ATV. She fastened her seat belt and grabbed onto the overhead handle as I shot out into the night air. “We’ll hit the dog run first,” I said. “Shine the light on your side. There isn’t much in the way of hiding places around here but if she fell or she got tired or—”
“Eyes on the trail,” she said gently. “Focus on what’s right in front of you.”
When we reached the dog run, I drove in a wide circle to get a look at the surrounding area. “Gennie loves these dogs,” I said, mostly to myself. “She would’ve come here.”
“Let’s look around. We’ll get a head count.”
“Of…the dogs?”
Shay aimed her light at the kennel. “Yeah. She might’ve taken one with her.” I opened the gate for Shay and followed her inside. “How many should there be?”
“Twelve.” The old pups came streaming out the kennel door, ears perked and tails wagging at the unexpected visit. “Twelve dogs, twelve goats, twelve chickens.”
