“Hey,” the boy says, crossing his arms and leaning against the white wooden fence that separates them from the cemetery.
“Hey.”
“Name’s Ian.”
“I’m Daniel. This is Evie.”
Evie blows a tuft of dandelion feathers at Ian.
“What do you think?” Ian asks, nodding at the sheriff still standing near the church doors.
“Didn’t know her.”
“She’s younger.” He dips his head toward Evie. “More about her age.”
“Sounds like she’ll be home by dinner,” Daniel says, watching all the Bucher brothers meet up at the truck Ian had been leaning against. Like the red ants in Mama’s kitchen, they keep coming, one after another.
“Like hell,” Ian says, shuffling closer. “I know what happened. I know exactly what happened.” He pauses and looks around like he’s afraid someone might hear. “After Jack Mayer escaped from Clark City, he snatched her right up. That’s what happened.”
Daniel crosses his arms over his chest. “Think I might have seen that Jack Mayer,” he says. “The night we got here. Pretty sure I saw him.”
“At your place?” Ian says, shifting his weight from his short leg to his long one. “You catch him stealing food?”
Daniel shakes his head. “Back that way. On the drive in. Saw him running across the road. Car might have hit him. Can’t be sure. He must have been black as midnight because I could barely see him. Just like you said.”
“It was a tumbleweed,” Evie says, peeling apart a dandelion stem and draping the thin pieces across her bare knee.
Daniel nudges her with his foot. “Wasn’t a tumbleweed.”
“Over on Bent Road?” Ian asks. “Where the road takes a hard turn? That where you saw him?”
Daniel nods.
“Could have happened. That’s the only spot that still has water this time of year. Everything else has dried up. That’s where a fellow’d have to head.” Ian looks up at Daniel and smiles. “Yeah, could have happened just that way.”
“Sure, I guess.”
All night, Daniel had lain awake, imagining the whites of Jack Mayer’s eyes shining outside his bedroom window, which he had locked and checked twice. Probably chains hung from both wrists and he did all his traveling at night because his coal-black skin hid him in the darkness. Jack Mayer is a big man, that’s for sure. Even in the dark, at the top of Bent Road, Daniel could judge the man’s size. Hearing a rattle inside Ian’s chest, Daniel takes a step backward.
“Yep, snatched her up,” Ian says. “Probably right out of her own front yard. ’Course, that means you didn’t hit him with your car. Would have been dead if you did. Couldn’t swipe Julianne Robison if he was dead.”
Evie brushes the rounded, fuzzy tip of another dandelion against her cheek and looks up at Ian, her pinched eyebrows making a crease above her nose.
“Maybe,” Daniel says, glancing down at Evie. “Or maybe she just wandered off.”
“Nobody wanders off for a whole night.” Ian gives a wave to the group of brothers across the street. “Hey,” he says. “I got to go. We’re going searching for her. Me and my brothers. Be out all day.” He takes a few steps, his left foot swinging out because it’s too long. Then he stops and looks back at Daniel. “You know,” he says, “your house is the first place those crazies come across when they escape. After the old Brewster place, that is. Just be sure you make a lot of noise when you get home. Bang around for a while. It’ll scare them off if they’re inside.”
“Sure thing,” Daniel says, crossing his arms over his chest and thinking he’ll let Dad go inside first. “We’ll do.”
After the sheriff finishes his announcement, the crowd breaks up and Celia drifts back toward Ruth, all the while keeping Evie and Daniel in sight. From the top of the church steps, the sheriff points and gestures to the group of men who have gathered with him, his black pistol slapping against his thigh. Every so often, he pats the gun and scans the crowd as if one of these fine Christians is hiding Julianne Robison in an attic or under a porch. After all of the men have gone their separate ways, apparently following the direction of the sheriff, Arthur walks down the stairs toward Celia. With arms crossed and feet spread wide, the sheriff watches Arthur take the stairs two at a time and hand Celia his car keys and tie. The sheriff is listening and nodding to the men standing around him but he is watching Arthur.
“Why don’t you and the kids go on home?” Arthur says. “I’ll be along later. And take Ruth. No sense Mother driving her.”
When Arthur leans in to kiss Celia’s cheek, she grabs his upper arm and draws him to her. “Arthur, I don’t like this,” she says, still watching the sheriff. “I’d rather have you home.” She glances at Evie and Daniel and whispers, “This will scare the children.”
“Nothing to worry about,” Arthur says, laying one hand over Celia’s. “We’ll have her home in no time.” He kisses Celia’s cheek, peels open her fingers and gives her a wave as he walks away.
Still standing at the top of the stairs, the sheriff watches Arthur until he climbs into Jonathon’s truck. This seems to put him at ease because he lets both arms drop and walks toward his patrol car. As he passes by, he tips his hat in Celia’s direction. She exhales, only then realizing that she had been holding her breath.
“Guess it’s just us,” she says and waves at Daniel and Evie, motioning for them to come along.
“Poor Mary must be sick with worry,” Ruth says.
“How did you know?” Celia glances at Ruth across the top of the car. She pauses while the children run toward them. Daniel outpaces Evie, who struggles to keep up in black leather shoes that are too big and slip off her heels with every stride. A few car lengths ahead, where he stands at his truck waiting to follow the sheriff and the other men, Ray watches Evie, too. He removes his hat, wipes his forehead with a kerchief and when Evie finally reaches the car, her face red and her upper lip damp with perspiration, he slips into his truck. Once Daniel and Evie have crawled into the backseat, and while Elaine is too far away to hear, Celia says, “You already knew about the little girl, didn’t you?”
Ruth makes a small motion as if she is going to look over her shoulder but stops herself. “A person hears things.”
“Do you think it was that man everyone is on the lookout for?” Celia asks. “The one Daniel thinks we saw the other night?”
Ruth shakes her head. “Those fellows from Clark City are harmless. Never caused any trouble before.”
At the end of the block, where the street changes from concrete to dirt, Ray’s truck kicks up dust and then disappears. Celia opens her door and Elaine slips into the backseat alongside Evie and Daniel.
“They share a pew with us,” Ruth says once both women are inside the car. She unrolls her window after Celia starts the engine. “Orville and Mary Robison sit on the other end of our pew. Them with only one child. Me and Ray without any. We fit fine.”
Heading south out of town, Celia holds the steering wheel with two hands, her shoulders and forearms still sore from driving so much a few days earlier. “Do you know them well?” she says.
“As well as anyone, I suppose. And no better than most. We were friends, closer friends, when we were young. A long time ago.”
“We saw that girl, Mama,” Evie says, leaning forward and draping her arms over the front seat. “We saw her on the way to Ian’s house.” She turns toward Daniel. “In the truck. You remember?”
Daniel shrugs.
“Is that right, Daniel?” Celia asks, keeping her eyes on the road. “Did you see her?”
“Don’t know. I wasn’t looking.”
“I saw her. I know I did,” Evie says. “Will I go missing, too?”