He shoved his arms into the sleeves of his denim workshirt as he walked. “Have you called her friends?”
“Not yet. I’ll go back home and see if she’s there. If not, I’ll get out the school directory and start calling.”
“I’ll drive around town, then. If she’s playing outside somewhere, I’ll spot her. What was she wearing?”
Loretta had to think for a moment. “Blue jeans. Red-and-blue striped sweater. White sneakers. Try the park, and the general store. Oh, and the diner. Call me on my cell if you find her.”
“You’ll do likewise?”
“Yes. I’ll let you know.”
Luc stepped inside the house to tell Celeste what he was doing. By the time Loretta got her station wagon started, he was already striding toward his car, keys in hand, a very determined look on his face.
God help her, but she was happy to have him on her side. Only a man of character would drop everything to look for an AWOL nine-year-old. But men of character didn’t go out and get themselves arrested for felonies. It just didn’t make sense.
LUC PICTURED the map of Indigo in his head and worked his way methodically along the streets, looking for a flash of red. He stopped at the park and asked a group of older kids playing soccer if they’d seen her, but no one had. He checked the general store to see if she’d stopped in to buy candy or soda, but again, no one had seen her. Nor had she dropped into the Blue Moon Diner for a piece of pie.
He kept looking, hoping his phone would ring and Loretta would let him know that Zara was home safe and sound, that he’d panicked for nothing. But the phone remained frighteningly silent.
The town of Indigo was pretty small, so Luc covered all the streets in a very short time. He ventured farther out, onto the back roads. All the while, terrible images played in his head-accidents, kidnappings, drownings.
As it was getting dark, he headed back to town. His intention was to stop by the bakery and find out what else he could do to help.
But as he neared the center of town, he saw the flashing blue-and-red lights of a squad car-Alain’s car-and his heart almost stopped beating altogether. This wasn’t good.
He pulled in behind the squad car and got out. Alain and a couple of other men were searching around the opera house with flashlights.
“Alain,” Luc called.
Indigo’s police chief turned to him. “Luc. You haven’t seen Zara Castille, have you?”
Luc’s heart sank. “No. Why are you focusing here?”
“Take a look.” He shone his flashlight against the side wall of the opera house. Someone had grafittied the native stone with red paint, and the perpetrator hadn’t gone out of her way to conceal her identity, either. The wall now boldly advertised, ZARA CASTILLE WAS HERE.
“Oh, Zara,” he murmured. Talk about taking a bid for attention to the extreme. To Alain he said, “I’ve got a flashlight in my car. I’ll help you look.”
Since the other men were focusing their search around the opera house, Luc walked across the expansive green lawn, which was dotted with shrubs and stone benches, behind the building. The others had shied away from searching near the bayou-perhaps unconsciously fearing what they might find. But Luc knew Zara wouldn’t get close enough to risk drowning.
She was around here somewhere, hiding, watching the chaos she’d caused. He’d bet his life on it.
“Zara!” He shined his flashlight into the cypress trees that looked spookier than usual as darkness fell. His beam of light played in and out of the Spanish moss.
“Luc!”
Luc nearly jumped out of his skin. His name, a whisper on the wind, had come from the shrub he’d just passed.
He whirled around. “Zara?”
“I’m here.”
And so she was, concealed almost perfectly. She no longer wore red-and-blue stripes, but a camouflage sweatshirt. Her bright hair was bundled under a brown knit hat.
Luc’s first feeling was one of intense relief, followed quickly by a surge of anger. He wanted to reach down and yank the little delinquent out from that bush, throw her over his shoulder and turn her over to Alain. But she looked scared, so he curbed his temper. “What are you doing hiding there?”
“Don’t be mad, Luc. I did it for you.”
That was just what he needed to hear. In addition to despising him, Loretta would probably have him arrested for contributing to the delinquency of a minor. “Come out from that bush.”
“I have a plan. Don’t spoil it.”
“You have exactly five seconds to get out from those bushes or I’m coming in after you. One, two, three-”
“Oh, all right. But don’t you even want to hear my plan?” The dense shrub trembled and rustled and finally parted until Zara emerged. She’d painted brown splotches on her face and the backs of her hand. Pretty damn clever way to hide.
He grabbed her hand and started for the opera house, walking a little too fast, practically dragging the child. “Do you have any idea how worried everyone is? Your mother must be frantic by now.”
“Have you talked to her?”
“I did earlier, and she was plenty worried then.” Luc waved his flashlight to get Alain’s attention. “I found her!”
Alain rushed up to her, then practically fell to his knees to visually inspect her. “Zara, are you all right?” He brushed at her cheek with his finger. “What have you got all over you?”
“Camel-flage.”
“Where’ve you been? Everyone was so worried.” He enveloped the girl in a bear hug. Alain and Zara were close, since he’d been teaching her how to play the fiddle. But Zara still looked a little dumbfounded by the display of emotion.
“I’ve just been…around. But Mr. Luc found me. Doesn’t that make him a hero or something?”
“Can’t thank you enough, Luc,” Alain said. “How did you know where to look?”
“Er, I didn’t. She kind of found me.” Zara’s plan, at least part of it, was gradually becoming apparent to Luc. She was hoping her mother would be so grateful to Luc for finding her missing daughter that she would stop being mad at him.
Nice thought, but it probably wasn’t going to work.
“Zara,” Alain said after he’d rounded up the other searchers and let them know the child was safe, “did you paint the wall of the opera house?”
“Uh-huh.”
He sighed. “I’m gonna call your mama and let her know you’re safe. Then we’ll figure out what to do next.” He led her to his squad car and put her in the front seat with a stern order for her to stay put.
Luc followed, and while Alain was on the phone, he took the opportunity to question Zara. He opened the car door and leaned down, propping his elbow on the roof. “Why did you do that?” He pointed to the defaced stone wall. “That building is a historical landmark.”
“I did it because I’m a juvenile delinquent.” She struggled a bit over the words, but she got them out.
“Zara, do you know what happens to juvenile delinquents?”
“They don’t go to jail, do they?” She was starting to look frightened.
“Sometimes they get arrested,” Luc said, “and sometimes they go to jail. But the worst thing is that they make their mothers really, really sad. How do you think your mother is going to feel about this?”
Zara did seem troubled by this notion, but she also looked determined. “She’ll want to do what’s best for me.”
Alain opened the driver’s door and slid behind the wheel. “Come on, Zara, I’ll take you home.”
“Can’t Luc take me home?”
“I have to talk to your mother and explain what you did. Then we have to figure out what’s to be done.”
Luc gave Zara’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then closed the door, his heart heavy. He was afraid Loretta and Zara were in for some tough times. It wouldn’t even surprise him if Loretta thought he had put Zara up to this stunt, just to turn himself into a hero.