“I don’t know, Janine.” He had no idea. He hadn’t really looked at the bag long enough to have formed an opinion.
A squeaking, scraping noise came from the side of the cliff, and he and Janine both turned to follow the sound. A crane attached to the tow truck was lifting the car up from the cliff, the sheriff and rescuers guiding it, shouting instructions to one another. The beating rain made visibility difficult, but it was hard to miss the fact that the car had been nearly flattened in the accident. It must have hit the ground with terrible force.
Janine broke free from him again and ran toward the sheriff, who was standing near the rising car. “Did you find the other child?” Joe heard her shout. “Is she down there?”
One of the rescuers shook his head. “No sign of a third person,” he said.
“But there was a third person in the car!” Rebecca called from behind him. Along with Steve and Lucas, she had left the embankment and was approaching the edge of the cliff.
“Do you know that for a fact?” the sheriff asked them. “Did someone see two children get into that car?”
“Yes,” Janine said. “Gloria did. The other Scout leader. She said they—Alison and the girls—drove off ahead of them. Besides, there are two children missing. One of them must still be down there. Please let me go down and look.”
“No, ma’am. As soon as this rain lets up, we’ll get down there again and—”
Janine whirled around before he could finish speaking and started running down the road.
“Ma’am!” the sheriff called after her. “Mrs. Donohue!”
Joe started to follow her, but Lucas caught his arm. “Let her go,” Lucas said. “She has to see for herself.”
“This is not about your daughter,” Joe said. “Or your wife.”
“Janine isn’t your wife, either,” Lucas said. “She’s not yours to control or accuse or criticize any longer.”
“You son of a bitch,” Joe said, ready and more than willing to punch Lucas in the face, but Paula literally jumped between the two of them.
“Cool it, you guys!” she demanded. “You’re not helping. Neither one of you.”
“Janine’s gone,” Rebecca said suddenly, and they turned to see that Janine had disappeared from the side of the road. It looked as if she’d fallen, but no doubt she’d found an area that would let her climb down the cliff safely. She would probably work her way back to the accident site, if no one tried to stop her, and Joe felt more than a little admiration for her—and a great deal of gratitude.
If Sophie was down there, Janine would find her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
No one was bothering her, and that was good. Maybe they were calling to her from above, but the rain kept their voices from reaching her. The teeming rain made the hillside slippery, though, and she had to hold on to tree branches and the trunks of young saplings as she worked her way back toward the crash site. She had to see for herself. Maybe it was Sophie in that child-size body bag, and maybe it was not, but there was one more child who had been in that car, and Janine was determined to find her.
There was no mistaking the crash site. The shrubs and brush were flattened and black, the trees near the site charred. Even with the rain, she could smell the scent of ash and fire. It was a sick smell that burned her nostrils and turned her stomach.
She began to hunt. She was searching for a small, frail child with red hair. In her heart, though, she knew she was more likely to find a tiny, charred body, and she tried to brace herself for that possibility.
She understood, balancing there on the side of the cliff, clutching the rubbery branches of a young maple tree in her fist, why the rescuers had given up for now. There was no sign of life here. She fell to her hands and knees and crawled among the brush and the vines. Probably poison ivy here, she thought, as she felt beneath every growing thing, feeling for the form of a child.
But there was no child here. Thirty minutes passed, maybe longer, as she scoured the ground on her hands and knees. The rain had plastered her clothes to her body and her hair to her cheeks by the time she turned her head to see that Lucas was standing above her.
He sat down on the damp, muddy incline and pulled her close to him. Her hands were caked with mud and leaves, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she knew what insanity felt like.
“We need to go, Jan,” he said.
She had no strength left to respond.
“They’ve taken the bodies to the medical examiner’s office. They’re going to get Sophie and Holly’s dental records. Joe gave them Sophie’s dentist’s name. That’s the only way they’ll be able to tell who it is that they found. And the sheriff promised that tomorrow, they’ll get a team of people out here to search this area for another…child.”
She knew he had been about to say “body,” and was glad he had caught himself in time. She didn’t want to hear that word.
It took them a long time to make their way back up the hill to the road. Rebecca was waiting on the macadam, her arms crossed against her chest, her long hair stringy and wet. She rushed Janine as soon as she saw her.
“I couldn’t find anyone,” Janine said, winded. She struggled to get her breath. “No Sophie. No Holly. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you for trying,” Rebecca said, as she wrapped her arms around her.
Janine held her tightly. At least one of them had lost a child today. And within a few hours, either she or Rebecca would have no more reason to hope.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Janine lay beneath the sheet on the double bed, staring blindly at the motel room’s fuzzy television. Jay Leno was on, but she’d muted the sound, unable to tolerate the laughter and levity. She watched Jay talking, posturing, nodding. From the bed, she could see her reflection in the mirror above the standard-issue motel dresser. Her expression was drawn, sunken, her mouth downturned. Her eyes were puffy and heavy-lidded. She looked like an old woman.
She was only vaguely aware of the throbbing in her leg. Somehow, while she’d been making her mad foray into the underbrush, she’d cut her thigh. It was a deep, wide laceration she had not even noticed until she was back on the road, when Lucas spotted the blood trailing down her leg, soaking her white sock above her tennis shoe. She’d been unable to stop the bleeding, and everyone had insisted she go to the nearest emergency room. Joe drove her there, while she protested. The wound had required eight stitches to close, and she didn’t even wince when the needle pierced her skin. This was nothing compared to what Sophie had endured, she told herself. Nothing.
They had all taken rooms at the motel. Rebecca and Steve were in a room on the second floor. Joe and Paula were on the third floor, sharing a room with two double beds. Janine knew about the beds because Joe had made sure to mention that fact in front of her. As if she cared. Joe was a fool to turn his back on the comfort she knew Paula would be more than happy to offer him
Janine would have loved to share a room with Lucas, whether it had two beds or not, but he was the one who had advised against it.
“Not with Joe here,” he’d said. “This is hard enough on him without throwing our relationship in his face.”
Jay Leno was bringing out a guest—some perky young woman with long blond hair and a dress that dipped low over her breasts. Her smile was irritating, and Janine clicked off the TV and lowered herself deeper beneath the sheet.
The rain had stopped sometime in the last hour or so, and the only sound now was the tinny, wheezing hum of the feeble air conditioner.
She was afraid to try to sleep, to close her eyes. Sure enough, as soon as she lowered her lids, the images came back to her: the black belly of the overturned car beneath the bubble of the helicopter, the small body bag. She would have known, she thought. She would have been able to tell, if only they’d allowed her to look inside that bag.
Joe had called her parents. Or, actually, she had called them, but her mother had instantly and not surprisingly told her to put Joe on the line. She’d handed the
phone to him, and Lucas had chastised her.
“Make her talk to you,” he’d said. “Make her act like an adult for once.”
But Lucas didn’t understand. It was easier to let Joe deal with her parents than it was to face her mother’s wrath and her father’s disappointment. She’d had a lifetime of that already. Right now, she didn’t have the strength for it.
None of them had been prepared to stay the night. They’d gone to a small market in the nearest town to buy toothpaste, toothbrushes and shampoo, and she’d bought a man’s cheap white undershirt to sleep in. She was glad she carried her birth control pills in her purse, so she wouldn’t miss taking any—although she could hardly imagine ever being in the mood to make love again.
Omega-Flight had been good enough to send someone out to fly the helicopter back to their heliport. She was grateful for all the support they had given her, and she made a mental note to send them a thank-you card when this was all over. Whenever that would be.
The doctor at the emergency room had given her pain pills, explaining that her leg would probably throb tonight. She’d skipped the pills, and even now, lying still in bed, she could barely tell which leg had been injured. You’re numb, she told herself, and while it was true that her body felt lifeless, her mind could not be stilled. She closed her eyes again, and the image of the small black body bag was with her once more. Groaning with frustration, she threw off the sheet and got out of bed. She took her room key from the dresser and walked out the door onto the outside walkway. Lucas’s room was two doors down, and she knocked on it softly, not wanting to wake him if he’d somehow managed to fall asleep.
In a moment, he opened the door. The room was dark, but she could see that he was wearing only his boxers—and, of course, his splint.
“I can’t sleep,” she said.
“Neither can I.” He held the door open for her.
She walked immediately to his bed and slipped beneath the covers, and he locked the door and joined her. He lay on his side, looking into her eyes, stroking her cheek with his hand.
“How is your leg?” he asked.
She shrugged off the question. “It’s nothing.”
“This is going to be a long night,” he told her.
“I want to know, and I don’t want to know,” she said.
He nodded. His fingers were warm against her cheek.
“Was I wrong to put her in the study, Lucas?” she asked. “I know it’s crazy, but Joe is right. If she hadn’t been so well, she never would have gone on the trip. And if the wellness was just temporary, then what have I done by—”
“Janine.” He gripped her shoulder, hard. “Listen to me. I don’t care what Joe says. Or what your parents say. Or even what I say. I care about what you say. Please, Jan, trust yourself for once.”
She had a sudden memory. She and Sophie were eating dinner a few nights after Sophie’s first infusion of Herbalina. Sophie devoured her meat loaf and mashed potatoes, and she’d wanted seconds of cake. Janine had watched her with surprise at first, then with an unaccustomed optimism. Sophie never ate with gusto, not since the illness had become her constant companion. She usually nibbled, pushing food around on her plate, while Janine begged her to take in at least enough calories to get her through the next day. Suddenly, though, Sophie was hungry. And the little girl herself recognized the change.
“Food tastes good, Mom,” she said. “I don’t think I ever really tasted meat loaf before. It must be because of the Herbalina.”
She was surprised that Sophie had made the connection between her new appetite and the IV she had weepily endured two days earlier.
“Why do you think it’s the Herbalina?” Janine had asked her.
“Dr. Schaefer said my appetite would come back. He said food would taste better to me.”
Janine’s optimism sank, but only momentarily. Was Sophie’s attitude toward her food just a placebo effect, produced by Schaefer’s power of suggestion? Yet, Sophie had been on numerous other medications with no positive change in her appetite. And so what if it was the placebo effect? At least Sophie was getting some food inside her for a change.
“If I shut my mind to Joe and my parents, then…I’m glad she was in the study,” Janine told Lucas. “If it was Sophie in the car, at least—” she squeezed her eyes shut “—at least she died happy. I mean, these last couple of weeks have been the happiest I’ve seen her since before she got sick.”
Lucas pulled her close to him. It took him a moment to speak, and when he did, Janine could hear the thickness in his voice and knew he was near tears.
“I know,” he said. “It’s been wonderful to see how she perked up. How she got to play healthy little kid for a while, instead of always having to deal with the side effects of those other meds.”
“I wish Joe could see it that way,” she said. “And my parents. I think my mother truly hates me.”
“Your parents love you,” he said. “But they’ve gotten so used to saying black when you say white, that it’s hard for you to ever win with them. And Joe…Joe might come around. He’s not so bad. And he’s still…besotted with you.”
She laughed at his choice of words. “He has a funny way of showing it.”
“Well, you know how when you’re in love with someone, you feel almost desperate to change them into a person you can relate to more easily.”
“I don’t want to change you,” she said. She leaned back to look at him. “I’m so grateful I have you. I’m so grateful for the way you’ve treated Sophie and me.”
He looked as though he wanted to say something, opening his mouth slightly, then apparently changing his mind with a shake of his head.
“Come here.” He pulled her close again, and she rested her head against his chest. “Let’s try to sleep,” he said. “I’m afraid tomorrow might be another long day.”
She shut her eyes, breathing in the scent of his skin. She was uncertain she could handle another day like this one and nearly said that out loud, but caught herself. She knew what Lucas would say. He would say she was strong enough to handle anything. She truly hoped he was right.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Joe could not sleep. If Paula hadn’t been in the room, he would have put on the television, one of the old shows on “Nick at Night” for some mindless entertainment. But Paula was sleeping soundly, and he didn’t want to wake her. They had talked for about an hour from their separate beds, and he was grateful for Paula’s calm, dispassionate thinking at a time when his own mind was in turmoil.
“There’s nothing we can do until we know who was in that car and what might have happened to the other girl,” Paula had said. “Until then, worrying won’t help.”
She had relaxed him, then, with guided imagery, placing him on a beach in Hawaii, and to his surprise, he felt his tight muscles soften with the sound of her voice. There was no one quite like Paula, Joe thought. He had never known anyone so able to remain cool and rational in the face of chaos. The only time he had ever seen her fall apart was the morning she learned of her mother’s death, and it had pleased him to be able to comfort her, to give back to her for a change. She had given so much to him over the last few years, as he coped with Sophie’s illness and the divorce.
But even after the guided imagery, he still had not been able to fall asleep, and Paula’s calming effect was not lasting. He was about to get up and go outside for a walk when there was a knock on the motel door. Quickly, he pulled on his shorts and opened the door.
The man illuminated by the motel light was short and slight and dressed in a sheriff’s uniform.
“Are you Joseph Donohue?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“May I come in?”
Joe glanced behind him at Paula’s bed.
“I’m awake,” Paula said as she sat up in the bed.
“Yes,” Joe said to the sheriff. “Come in, please.” He moved to the side of the room to turn on the floor lamp.
“Have a seat,” the sherif
f said, as he himself sat down at the small round table near the lamp.
Joe sat on the edge of his bed, his heart pounding. Whatever this man was about to tell him would change his life, of that he was certain.
“We’ve heard from the medical examiner,” the sheriff said. “Your daughter, Sophie, was not the child in the car.”
Joe let out his breath. He stared wordlessly at the sheriff, and before he knew what had hit him, he lowered his head into his hands and began to cry.
Paula was at his side instantly. She sat next to him on the bed, her arm around his shoulders.
“Shh, sweetie,” she said. And then she took over, as if she realized Joe would not be able to handle this conversation himself. “It was definitely Holly in the car?” she asked the sheriff.
“Yes,” the sheriff said. “The dental records allowed the medical examiner to make a firm identification.”
“So, what happens now?” she asked.
“First thing in the morning, we’ll organize a search party.”
“Was there any evidence in the car that would give you a clue what happened to Sophie?” Paula asked.
“Her knapsack and sleeping bag were in the car, in the trunk,” the sheriff said. “And we spoke to the other Scout leader, the one who saw the car drive away from the camp with Sophie in it. So, there’s every indication she was in the car. The back seat windows were busted out, and we can only conclude that she was able to get out of the car somehow.”
Joe looked up at that. “Before or after the fire?” he asked.
The sheriff shook his head. “That we don’t know,” he said.
“What about blood in the car?” Paula said, talking about blood as easily as she might talk about her garden. “Was there any blood that might indicate she was badly injured when she climbed out of the car?”
“I don’t know the answer to that yet,” the sheriff said. “We’ll be examining the car more carefully this morning.”