The front door slams behind me. I stay close to Dad so I can make it into the car before he slams yet another door. He fires up the engine and screams out of the driveway.
"Where are you going?"
It only takes ten minutes at the speed he's traveling and we're very soon sitting in Sheriff Hutton's driveway. Dad slams out of the car and walks to the front door.
The porch light comes on and Sheriff Hutton opens the door with a frown.
"Mitchell? What are you doing here?"
"Sorry for the lateness, Gerry, I just need to talk to you."
"Okay." The Sheriff opens the door a little wider. "What's the problem?"
"It's Nicole." Dad turns with a sigh.
The Sheriff's eyes narrow.
"What's she been up to now?"
My Dad frowns.
"What do you mean?"
"Oh come on, Mitch, we both know she hangs out with the party kids."
"Yeah." Dad nods. "Yeah, I guess she does."
He dips his head then looks up like a lost kid. Are those tears in his eyes?
"We can't find her. She didn't come home last night and none of her friends have seen her."
"Have you called her?"
"Several times. It just keeps going to voice mail."
The sheriff's dark eyes glitter.
"I hate Caller ID sometimes. You can't surprise people anymore."
My Dad nods stupidly, it's obvious he's only now considering the prospect that I may have been dodging their calls. I'd love to tell him I've never done that, but it's not true. I actually have designated ringtones for them... it saves me having to look for my phone when I don't want to talk to them. I flush with guilt.
The Sheriff puts his hands in his pockets as he studies my forlorn father.
"You think she's run away?"
"I don't know." Dad shrugs. "I just... what if she hasn't. What if something bad's happened to her?"
"Yes! Thank you, Dad." I rush over to him. "Finally. Listen to him, Sheriff."
"What are you thinking?" The sheriff puts his hands in his pockets.
"Maybe she's hurt or maybe someone's taken her," Dad's voice cracks. "What if it's foul play and all this while we're assuming she's just run away? I can't live with that, Gerry. I need to find my daughter."
Sheriff Hutton shoots Dad a sympathetic look and approaches him with slow steps. "Hey, I can understand what you're going through right now. With everything that happened to Jody, this must be a really hard pill to swallow, but I'm sure Nicole's fine."
"I'm not fine!"
"I'll put out my feelers in the morning and see if I can't rustle up some information for you. I'll call the L.A.P.D. and get her face up on some missing persons walls, okay?"
"Should we start a search?"
The Sheriff is obviously hesitant to say it, but let's out a breath and asks, "Where? Where would we even start?"
Desolation washes over Dad's face.
"I'm sorry, Mitch." Gerry pats Dad's shoulder. "I'll do everything I can to help you out, but right now, you need to go home and rest. If someone's taken her or hurt her, we'll find 'em. I can promise you that."
Dad's shoulders sag. He looks hesitant to leave, but eventually mutters, "Thanks, Gerry."
"I'll call you in the morning."
"Yep, okay." Dad can do nothing more as the sheriff ushers him out the front door.
Dad's moving in slow motion as he waves goodbye and gets in his car. I can't take my eyes off him as he drives home in robot-mode. We pull into our driveway and he cuts the engine. Placing his hands on the wheel he lets out a long, slow sigh and just stares straight ahead.
"Dad?"
I wave my hand in front of his face. What a waste of time. Laying my hand gently on his arm, I try to get a response, even a shiver, but he gives me nothing. He just keeps staring ahead looking lost and afraid.
I want to lean my head on his shoulder and tell him it's going to be okay, but I can't.
I haven't leaned my head on his shoulder since I was thirteen.
The hopelessness engulfing us is almost too much to bear and I actually welcome the reprieve when my head starts to pound and the car's dashboard rushes towards me.
*****
I open my eyes with a gasp. The air around me is clear and cold. I shiver beneath my jacket. It hurts to move, but I can't stop my muscles from quivering. I want to give in and just let myself drown in a pool of tears, but I have no such luck. All I can see are my parents' broken faces, all I can hear are their desperate words. They play over in my head, continually bouncing back to my mother's whispered words, "With her gone, we have nothing left."
That can't be true. I thought they had a great marriage. I just thought it was me on the outside. How did I not notice everything falling apart around me?
The stones above me move. I look into the darkness, fear spiking through me. Was it an animal? I know bears and mountain lions roam these hills, has one come to eat me? I hold in my panicked breaths, forcing my body to lay as still as possible.
Another pile of stones scatter. The sound is coming from up the hill. I know I should call out in case it's someone who can help me, but the idea of foul play stops me. What if someone I know was driving the car? What if they had hit me on purpose?
From the way people spoke today, I obviously wasn't as adored as I thought.
What if someone had intentionally tried to take me out?
As quietly as possible, I shift further into the pine needles. It is a clumsy task, my body feels swollen and stupid. The boot on my left leg is growing tighter by the second. I want to rip it off, but my stiff hand couldn't, even if I tried. Eventually I'm nestled an inch further into the needles. The shakes return and I have to fight really hard not to make a rustling sound. Stones continue to scatter above me and I think I hear footsteps, cautiously descending the hill.
I hold my breath. My heart is pulsing so hard I think it might run out of my chest.
A soft curse wafts through the air followed by a cellphone ring. At least I think that's what it is. It isn't a common one. It sounds like a person whistling a slow, easy tune. It cuts off and I try to listen out for a muffled voice, but it disappears.
Am I dreaming?
Or am I letting someone who could actually help me walk away?
"Help?" I call out through cracked lips, but my voice is too hoarse and dry to make much sound. Part of me is glad for it. Fear is pulsing through my system like a strobe light.
I close my eyes.
I want Dale.
I want Dale.
I want Dale.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The morning does not come in a hurry; neither does my return to Dale. I lay in the darkness, my mind flashing from terror to desperation. It's hard to hold a coherent thought for long. My brain keeps drifting down a murky path of nothingness before abruptly clearing, only to let the terror back in.
The bitter cold engulfs me and all I can do is will the sunshine to lighten the sky. When I think I can't take it anymore I start wishing for Dale again. I don't know how long my mind screams his name, but I eventually open my eyes and find him lying next to me.
I jolt upright. Jester is lying at Dale's feet. His nose pops into the air and he let's out a low bark then his tongue flops out of his mouth as if he's smiling. A few sniffs later and he's burrowing his way up the bed, trying to squish his head beneath my hand.