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  “Do you see that thing currently eating my best house shoe?” Haydn demanded. “Isn’t it enough I have a miserable teething baby? An overactive four-year-old?”

  Renny chewed on her bottom lip and decided silence was the best course for staying alive.

  “You’re right. Obviously not,” Haydn continued as if Renny had answered. “I must need a flea-ridden puppy with no training to consume all my extra time. And the culprit…Where is the culprit you ask? I’ll tell you. At a dinner meeting with an important client.” She exhaled and thrust the baby at Renny, then clapped her hands. “Not inside!” Grabbing the puppy, she raced to the side of the house.

  “Chelsea me girl, it looks like I and my curiosity should have stayed home.” Renny patted the fretting baby, working out how long she had to stay.

  “Renny!” Kyle burst into the hallway, Can at his heels. “Come see my castle. It’s got lights and everything. Even a king.”

  With a last look at the escape hatch, Renny followed the excited boy to the large family/play room. It was in the new addition to the house, constructed when Keile and Haydn decided to expand their family. Though Kyle had his own corner for his million toys, the plastic gray castle, surrounded by knights and horse, was set up in the middle of the room.

  “How cool. When did you get this?”

  “Grandpa sent it in the big brown truck. Chelsea only got a stupid doll. Mine’s way better.”

  “Better for you,” she agreed, carefully easing down onto the thick carpet, Chelsea in her arms.

  “Excuse the rant,” Haydn said, entering the room with the puppy in her arms.

  Renny watched in amusement as Haydn sat down and cuddled the carrier of fleas who was clearly not fully housebroken. “Did it help?”

  “Big time. But I’m sure you didn’t come over here to hear me rant or to get stuck playing with the kids.”

  “The playing’s a side benny.” She tapped Chelsea on the nose. The baby grabbed her finger and stuck it into her slobbery mouth. After some haggling, she exchanged her finger for the chew toy Haydn threw her way. “I ran into Summer at the park. Before you ask, I did apologize for my behavior. However, I reserve the right to think she’s strange. I guess you could say strange. Borderline crazy may be better.”

  “You’re not supposed to call anybody crazy,” Kyle said, his eyes wide. “It hurts their feelings.”

  “That’s right,” Haydn was quick to agree. “It’s amazing the things you learn in pre-K. Renny should say ‘strange.’ Strange can be good.”

  Renny shook her head frowning. “Not in this case. First she says she’s looking for a puppy. Much like the one you’re currently fondling, come to think of it. Then she asked if I’ve heard about any missing kids since I’ve lived here. When I questioned her about it, she backed down and poofed. Tell me that doesn’t scream ‘nut house’ to you.”

  “Keile says her family’s filthy rich. She can’t be cra—uh, nut house-worthy. She has to be eccentric. It’s the rules.”

  “Then she’s full of eccentricity.” Following Kyle’s instructions, Renny made her knight fight his.

  “I’ve lived here longer than you and I haven’t heard of any kids going missing for more than a night except the one you’re playing with. And even he wasn’t missing for a night. Just long enough to scare me to death.”

  “She said it was a seven-year-old girl. Blonde hair, puppy aptly named Brownie.”

  “Maybe you misunderstood her. She might have been giving you ideas for a book. ”

  Before Renny could nix the idea, Can jumped up barking and raced from the room. The puppy tumbled from Haydn’s lap, landed on his butt, righted himself, then scampered after him.

  “It’s Mama Kee,” Kyle announced, tearing after the dogs.

  “Three down.” Haydn dusted off her hands. “Not too shabby.”

  “Should I go warn Keile to grab armor?” Renny asked.

  “As if that would do her any good.”

  A minute later Keile entered the room, arms full of puppy and boy, apparently unmindful of the damage they were doing to her white shirt. “Back from a successful evening of hunting and gathering.” She let Kyle slid down her body, placed the puppy on the floor and bent to give Haydn a kiss. “Consider yourself off duty.”

  Haydn pulled her close for another kiss. “So considered.”

  “Hey, Renny. How’s the baby bear working out for you?” Keile crossed the room and picked up Chelsea. She didn’t wince when Chelsea sucked on her chin.

  “Chazz is doing great. I was telling Haydn I ran into Summer at the dog park.”

  “She has a dog? Wonder why she didn’t tell Jo?”

  “I don’t, uh…,” she paused to consider. “That’s not the point. She was there looking for an imaginary puppy named Brownie.”

  “And a missing girl,” Haydn added.

  Keile extricated herself from her daughter’s strong grip and wiped at her slobbery chin. “I don’t think I’ve seen either. I’ve certainly haven’t heard anything about a missing girl. When did this happen?”

  “Good question,” Renny said dryly. “If it happened. We only have Summer’s word to go by.”

  “Renny thinks Summer is missing some screws. Should we be worried?”

  “No. Look, strictly between us she does have some memory issues.” Keile rubbed her forehead. “Could be she’s remembering events that happened before. Oh God, yes. Freshman year, spring semester, a little girl did go missing. I haven’t thought about that in years.”

  “How old was she?” Renny asked.

  “That I don’t remember. I do remember she was a cute little blonde with big blue eyes. The media made a huge deal about that. You couldn’t walk two feet on campus without seeing a flyer with a headshot. Then school let out and it died away. I don’t remember that they ever did find her.” Keile tightened her grip on Chelsea, kissed her cheek.

  “What about the puppy? Lab or lab mix.”

  Keile shook her head. “There wasn’t any mention of a dog. Like I said it’s possible Summer’s mixing up two different events. Now I wish I had gotten her number. Sounds like she could use a friend.”

  Though she was sure Keile hadn’t meant it to happen, Renny felt guilty. Whatever happened to Summer was big, and she of all people should be the last one to rush to judgment. There were those in the old crowd she’d hung with who had lingering mental or physical problems from the alcohol, the drugs they’d abused. She’d been lucky¸ so a little compassion wasn’t out of place. “Looks like I owe her another apology.”

  Chapter Nine

  Friday morning a nervous Summer applied lip balm to her dry lips as she scanned the lobby for arrivals. She was doing her best to ignore the surreptitious looks being thrown her way, knowing lack of sleep and an excess of worry had her not looking her best. In fact, the walking dead probably looked better. After enduring a couple of nights with little rest, she’d decided to get in early, waylay Keile and ask her to lunch or a drink after work. The waiting was harder than she thought it would be; she was already up to a hundred times a hundred. Any minute she would start to bit her nails.

  “Summer. I was hoping to run into you.”

  She almost jumped a foot when Keile touched her arm and had to consider that home might have been the best place for her today. She was running on nerves and not doing a good job of it. “Hi. I was…I didn’t know when you got here.”

  “It varies.” Keile took out her cell phone. “I realized yesterday I don’t have your number.”

  Summer dug through her bike bag for her own phone. “I don’t know it yet,” she explained as she searched through the menus in vain.

  “Let me help you with that.” Within seconds Keile found the number and input it into her phone. Then she added her numbers to Summer’s phone. “You free for lunch today?” she asked gently.

  Summer could have kissed her. “Yes. Yes.” For some reason she knew talking things out with Keile would help. Dr. Veraat was still out of the
office and she didn’t want to burden her mother.

  “Twelve thirty okay?”

  “I’ll meet you down here.” Though she felt more centered, she took the stairs. The burst of exercise cemented the calm, and by the time she reached her floor, her stomach was no longer churning and her head felt clearer. She was going to make it through the day. Amazing when she considered the state she’d been in at three a.m.—wide eyed and haunted by a child.

  Entering the reception area, she scooted past Fiona’s desk. It was empty, which she considered a good sign. Fiona tended to broadcast her emotions, making it difficult for Summer to block them out. An even better omen was Marcia’s empty office. For half a second, Summer was tempted to take a seat and wait for Marcia to arrive but dismissed it as too petty.

  After storing her gear in the file room, she made her way to Liz’s office. She hadn’t had a chance to talk to her since her meeting with Kevin. “Hey. You got a minute?” She looked around Liz’s organized office. It seemed everything had a place in Liz’s world. No stacks of paper on her desk.

  “Sure. Grab a seat.” Liz turned from her monitor to face Summer. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Uh, yeah. I, uh, wanted to talk about, you know, doing more stuff around here. That was you, right? I mean, you convinced Gar or Kevin?”

  Liz fiddled with a pad on her desk. “I did.”

  “Why? Filing and a little dusting are okay. For me.”

  Liz seemed to hesitate. “I sort of met you before the accident.”

  Summer couldn’t have been more surprised. “When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It was at an opening at this little gallery in New York City. I was visiting a friend and he’d seen some of your work. I thought it would be cool, you know going to a gallery opening in New York. Maybe Paris is cooler. Maybe.” Liz smiled. “Anyway, I was immediately drawn in by the images, the faces you put to canvas. And don’t worry. With the sheer number of people coming and going, I wouldn’t expect you to recall me even if you could remember that time.”

  “Wow.” She flopped back into the chair, hard pressed to believe she’d been a person who inspired admiration in others. “That’s…”

  “Yeah. What you created was wow. It’d be a shame to let that kind of talent go to waste.”

  “I don’t…” Summer sighed and rubbed her chest. “I don’t have that in me anymore. It’s gone.”

  “How do you know if you don’t stretch? I thought maybe if you were gradually given more challenging assignments it would, I don’t know, help something. And it occurred to me a start would be looking over the graphics for my next report. That’s purely selfish on my part.”

  “What do I know about advertising? You’d have to be crazy to take my word for anything.”

  Liz leaned forward and clasped her hands. “That’s where I think you’re wrong. But before you panic, Kevin’s made it clear what your role is to be. I promise I won’t push. Too much, that is,” she added with a smile. “Can you work with that?”

  She nodded. “I should probably thank you. Maybe one day I will.” She had a lot to think about on her way to Marcia’s office. So maybe she could study ads in magazine. Get a feel for what was out there. That didn’t mean she had to share how she felt about them. And maybe it wouldn’t hurt to keep pencil and paper handy in case she got an itch again. Nothing fancy like the pad with the good paper and the pencil set her father had given her. No, something cheap, befitting her current skill set.

  Marcia dispatched her to the file room with only a little snide commentary. The stacks of folders to be filed were dwindling, making Summer realize that her tasks would have changed regardless of Liz’s intervention.

  The morning passed quickly, interrupted by a request to scan documents from a completed project and create a folder. It wasn’t hard to do, but the task was usually handled by Marcia, who was responsible for keeping track of the file numbering system. To Summer’s surprise, Marcia logged the file into the database, then handed it back to her without giving her any grief. The day was full of good omens.

  Summer was downstairs by twelve twenty-five. She paced while trying to decide how much information to share with Keile. Telling her too much might make her leery. And who could blame her? The whole situation was like something out of the tabloids. Crazed woman sees events that may or may not have happened. Turn to Page Ten to read all about it.

  She spotted Keile’s confident stride with no trouble. Today she was wearing a lavender knit shirt and form-fitting jeans. She looked competent, the kind of person who could take being leaned on.

  “Any place in particular?” Keile asked after they exchanged a quick greeting.

  “It doesn’t matter.” She was too full of worry to be concerned about food.

  “Jack’s then. The service is quick and it’s a little off the beaten track so it won’t be as crowded.”

  Summer followed Keile out the side door that led to the loading dock. She’d never been this way and was surprised when they cut through another building and ended up on Central two blocks away.

  “Short cuts,” Keile explained. She’d obviously seen the look of surprise on Summer’s face. “Gotta love ’em.”

  Summer nodded and zipped her coat against the cold wind, thinking of the cap and gloves that were keeping her desk drawer warm. “I want to talk, but I don’t know how to start. You’ll probably think I’m crazy.”

  “I talked to Renny the other day. She mentioned the missing girl, the dog.”

  “Oh. Then I’m surprised you accepted the invite. You must think I’m completely nuts.”

  “No. I think you got confused and remembered something that happened over ten years ago.”

  Summer gripped Keile’s arm, slowed their pace. “What are you talking about?”

  “Freshman year a girl went missing. For about a month we were inundated with news about her. Something must have triggered a memory. Were you walking around campus?”

  “She’s real?” The relief was almost overpowering. She wasn’t on the short list for the asylum. “Did they catch the guy who snatched her?”

  “It’s still an open case. Or I should say a cold case. After Renny mentioned it, I did a little research, read the old news clips. They never had any leads. Never had any idea of where she disappeared from. Like I said it was all over the news. Then it all died away when they couldn’t locate the girl or come up with a suspect. The police thought it was done by someone passing through.”

  Summer chewed on her bottom lip. “When did it happen? I mean what time of year?”

  “Early April. Spring break for public schools.”

  “Could I have known her?”

  “You didn’t mention it. That I would have remembered. Maybe the story stuck with you because of the search parties.”

  “I searched for this girl? Me?”

  “We did one together. The wooded area beyond the sports arena.”

  “Yeah. Maybe that’s it.” But it didn’t explain her vision. Central Park was nowhere near the university sports arena.

  “This way.” Keile made a left into a dead-end alley, then another left and went down a short flight of stairs. “Doesn’t look like much I know, but looks can be deceiving. We loyal followers try to keep this place a secret.”

  Summer was pleasantly surprised at the brightness and, though she wouldn’t admit it to Keile, the cleanliness of the small place. The delicious smells spilling from the open kitchen were another plus. A long counter with stools ran along a wall and there were five small tables squeezed together. The restaurant was almost full, but the low hum of conversation was manageable.

  Keile grabbed two paper menus from a pocket attached to the wall. “Order first, then sit,” she explained. “Everything is good, but I always get the special of the day.” She pointed to the chalkboard next to a cash register.

  Summer decided that the special—fried chicken, macaroni and cheese and collard greens—would be as good as anything.


  After they placed their order Keile led the way to one of the few remaining tables. “It won’t be long. So what made you remember the little girl?”

  She frowned, unzipped her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair before answering. “It’s, uh, complicated.” She took a sip from the large plastic cup filled with sweet ice tea. “Do you, you know, believe in psychic stuff?”

  “Like seeing dead people?”

  “There’s more to it. I’ve been doing some research and there’s a lot scientists don’t know about how the brain works.”

  “Summer, are you trying to tell me you’re psychic?”

  Summer couldn’t decide if Keile’s tone meant the possibility was good or bad. She looked into Keile’s eyes and saw no judgment. “I, uh, I think so. Either that or I’m crazy. Slap-me-in-the-nut-house-type crazy.”

  Keile smiled. “I don’t think one necessarily precludes the other. Tell me why you think you’re psychic.”

  Summer ran her fingers through her hair, zipped through the multiplication table to five, then exhaled. “Okay. Monday I was having a bad day at work, so I went by Central Park. There’s something about a park that settles me down. I can’t really explain it.” She took another sip of tea, then poured out her experience on the swing, going so fast the words almost tripped over each other.

  “This is some good information. You have to tell the police. I know they hold back key information sometime, but I bet they have no idea about the puppy being used as bait or the van.”

  While she was glad Keile seemed to believe her, she didn’t believe the same could be said for the police. “I don’t…” She broke off, rubbed her dry lips and fought off nerves.

  A young African American male with dreads streaming down his back arrived with their food. “Enjoy your meal, ladies.”

  Though she managed a smile of thanks, Summer was sure she wouldn’t. “I can’t…I can’t do it. They wouldn’t buy a word of it. And it happened so long ago.”

  “We can talk about that later. Now you look like you could use some food.”

  “You sound like a mother,” she said, poking at the mac and cheese.