Bringing Maggie Home

by Kim Vogel Sawyer

  Diane frowned. “What’s so funny?”

  Meghan swiped her hand over her face, erasing the chortles. But a grin remained. “I’m sorry. You sounded so indignant. It tickled me, that’s all.”

  “Of course I’m indignant. I’ve lived with the effects of her sister’s disappearance my whole life.”

  “I have, too.”

  Diane huffed. “No, you haven’t.”

  Meghan placed the photographs in the box and rested her elbows on her knees. All humor faded from her expression. “You lived with an overly protective mother. She became overly protective because she was afraid to lose someone else she loved. Then I lived with you being…I don’t know how to phrase it. Permissive doesn’t quite fit, but uncaring seems too harsh. Maybe I should say underly protective.”

  Had Meghan just insulted her? Diane frowned again.

  “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, Mom, but sometimes I wondered if I was in your way. I got more hugs and attention from Grandma during my summer weeks than I got from you the remainder of the year.”

  “That’s not fair! I—”

  Meghan held up her hand. “I know you love me. I know that now. But there were times, as a kid, when I wondered because you seemed so…emotionally distant. I wouldn’t have phrased it that way when I was a little girl, but that’s how I’d define it now.”

  Diane rose and paced to the opposite side of the room. The four dachshunds trotted after her, then sat in a circle, gazing up at her with expectant faces. She folded her arms over her chest and glowered at her daughter. “I’m not going to spend the next six weeks being criticized at every turn. I did the best I could with you, and everything I did was out of love.”

  Meghan met her gaze, and a slow smile curved her mouth. “Exactly. You did the best you could with me, out of love. And Grandma did the best she could with you, out of love. You did things differently, but your motivations were the same.” The smile slipped away. “I don’t resent you, Mom. I understand that you did your best with me. But I wish you’d realize Grandma did her best, too, and give up your resentment toward her.”

  Diane hugged herself harder. Ginger, always the most in tune with her owner’s feelings, began to whine. Diane bent over and absently scratched the dog’s silky ears. Head low, she muttered, “She didn’t have to let things that happened in her childhood be such a big deal when she became an adult.” Then she gave a mental jolt. Was she condemning her mother, or was she speaking of herself?

  Meghan

  Meghan and Mom gave up conversation and watched a movie until Grandma roused from her nap. The moment her grandmother rounded the corner from her bedroom, Meghan pulled out her cell phone and smiled.

  “There you are. Are you game for talking with a cold-case detective from Little Rock, Arkansas?”

  Grandma offered a sleepy grin. “Isn’t that what I’m doing when I talk with you?”

  “Nope, I’m only your lowly granddaughter. But Sean is the real deal.” He had three more years of experience than Meghan, and she trusted that he would have more ideas on how to track down Maggie. “I texted him right after you went to nap, to make sure he didn’t mind a business call on Sunday”—Mom rolled her eyes—“and he said to call whenever as long as it wasn’t after eleven, his time.” She glanced at the grandfather clock. “It’s a little after six there now, so we should be safe.”

  “Unless he’s eating supper.”

  Meghan sighed. “Mom…”

  Mom raised her hands in mock surrender. “I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

  Meghan made a face at her and then turned to Grandma. “It’s up to you. We can put it off until tomorrow evening, if you’d rather.”

  Grandma stood for a moment with her brow puckered and her lower lip pulled in. The expression of uncertainty pierced Meghan. If You love her, God, help her do what’s best for her. She gave a start. Had she just prayed?

  Grandma crossed to the sofa and sat next to Meghan. “Let’s call him now. I thought of something as I was falling asleep, and if I don’t tell him right away, I might forget it again.”

  Mom used the remote to turn off the television, and Meghan punched Sean’s contact number, then touched the speaker button. She held the cell phone between her and Grandma.

  After only one ring, Sean’s deep, familiar voice came through. “Hello, Meghan! So you’re going to introduce me to your grandmother, huh?”

  Meghan snickered. “I’ve got you on speaker, so you’ve already introduced yourself.”

  His hearty laughter vibrated from the phone. “If I’d known, I would have been more formal. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. DeFord.”

  Grandma smiled as warmly as if the two of them were seated across a table from each other. “Hello, Detective Eagle. I appreciate your willingness to help solve my mystery.”

  “Anything for Meghan’s grandma.”

  Tears winked in Grandma’s eyes. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m sure Meghan’s already told you, we might not be successful. Your little sister’s been missing a long time. But we’ll do our best.”

  Grandma leaned in as if speaking into a microphone. “I understand. I won’t hold a grudge if you aren’t successful.”

  Meghan aimed the phone at her own mouth. “Sean, let me give you the quick rundown. Grandma and Maggie were at a blackberry thicket about a mile from their house. Grandma left Maggie for a few minutes, and when she came back, her sister was gone. She searched for an hour or so before getting help. They found one of Maggie’s shoes on a creek bank, which led the authorities to believe she fell into the creek and got washed away.”

  Grandma took hold of Meghan’s wrist and pulled the phone closer. “But I don’t believe it.”

  “Tell me why not, Mrs. DeFord.”

  Grandma’s fingers tightened. “There are three reasons. First, Maggie’s short legs could only carry her so far, so fast. Second, I found the ribbon from Maggie’s hair on a tree branch too high for her to reach on her own. Someone would have had to carry her for her head to reach it. And”—she locked gazes with Meghan, triumph glittering in her brown irises—“she left her doll behind. The third reason is the most important, to my way of thinking. If she’d gone wandering on her own, she would have taken it with her. It was her birthday doll, and from the moment Daddy gave it to her, she never let loose of it.”

  So that was what Grandma had remembered. Meghan nodded, excited. “That’s a great deduction. What we call a solid clue.”

  Grandma smiled. She let go of Meghan’s wrist and placed her hands in her lap again. Miney jumped up beside her and rested her chin on Grandma’s knee.

  “I presume if she had been swept away in a creek”—Sean’s contemplative tone came through the phone—“someone would have found her, uh, remains eventually. I can investigate the discovery of any unidentified remains. It would be good to rule out that theory.”

  Grandma laid her hand on the dachshund’s head. Across the room, Mom’s eyes widened. Meghan shook her head at her mother and spoke into the phone. “Sean, Grandma told me that a lady in town suspected Gypsies were abducting children.”

  “Someone blamed Gypsies?”

  Grandma nodded, her expression grim. “Yes. The widow who ran the Benton County Orphans’ Home. She said a Gypsy wagon had been run out of Cumpton a day or two before Maggie disappeared, and I distinctly remember her mentioning at least two other children from nearby communities who turned up missing at the same time a Gypsy wagon came through the area. To my knowledge, those children were never found, either.”

  “Do you know the names of the children?”

  “Oh, heavens, no.” Grandma ran her fingers through Miney’s thick ruff and sent a worried look at Meghan. “But I believe she said one was a girl close to Maggie’s age, the other a baby boy.”

  “Do you recall which towns they lived in?”

  Grandma grimaced and leaned closer to the phone. “No. It was so long ago…”

  The worry l
ines marching across Grandma’s forehead stung Meghan’s heart. She spoke briskly. “Check for missing children from Benton County, Arkansas, in the first half of 1940, Sean. That should be a good starting point.”

  “Will do.”

  Meghan touched Grandma’s knee. “Is there anything else you can think of that might help Sean start the search?”

  “No, but…” She took the phone from Meghan and held it close to her mouth. “Young man, may I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “My granddaughter said you are a Christian. Is that true?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I am saved by grace through Jesus Christ’s sacrifice on the cross of Calvary.”

  The sureness in his voice raised a wave of both envy and longing in Meghan’s soul. Unexpectedly, tears threatened, and she blinked fast to keep them from forming.

  “Then can I trust you will pray about your search for Maggie?”

  “Ma’am, I pray about every case that crosses my desk. I ask God to guide and direct the investigation. I ask Him to bring His perfect solution. And I ask Him to give peace to the ones who are affected by the case. Since this case affects somebody who means a lot to me—”

  Meghan’s pulse sped.

  “—you can be sure I will be praying about it.” A moment of silence fell. “Is there something specific you’d like me to pray for?”

  Grandma closed her eyes and bowed her head, touching her forehead to the phone. “Yes. For God’s will, certainly, and also that He would prepare Maggie’s heart. I’m so eager to find her, so eager to hold her again, so eager to tell her I’m sorry.” A tear slid down Grandma’s cheek and plopped on Miney’s head. “Will you pray her heart will be open to receiving me?”

  “Mrs. DeFord…” The huskiness in his voice let Meghan know he’d been touched by Grandma’s request, and her heart rolled over in gratitude for his innate tenderness and compassion. “How about we pray about it together right now?”

  Nineteen

  Hazel

  Hazel pointed at Meghan’s cell phone and gave a nod. “Now that is a nice young man.”

  “Yeah, he really is.” Meghan stiffened her spine, and her eyes sparked. “He gets ribbed a lot at the office because he doesn’t tell coarse jokes or go drinking after work with the guys. But it doesn’t change him. And he never retaliates. I really admire Sean’s firm stance on right and wrong. He’s one of those people who does more than talk the talk—he walks the walk, if you know what I mean.”

  Hazel nodded. “I do know what you mean. I remember Atticus Finch telling his little daughter in To Kill a Mockingbird, ‘Before I can live with other folks I’ve got to live with myself. The one thing that doesn’t abide by majority rule is a person’s conscience.’ It sounds as if your Sean is a man of integrity.”

  “That’s a good way to put it.” Meghan frowned, absently transferring the cell phone from palm to palm. “Before becoming his partner, I battled the tendency to cave to other people’s opinions rather than rock any boats—you know, trying to be everybody’s friend. But he’s inspired me to stand firm on what I believe. He’s a good mentor for me. I got lucky when they partnered me with him.”

  Hazel gave Meghan’s knee a pat. “Maybe it wasn’t luck at all. Maybe it was a blessing.”

  Meghan grinned. “Maybe.”

  Something moist and warm brushed Hazel’s arm. She jerked and looked down. She drew back in surprise. “Well, you little scamp. What are you doing sitting up here with me?” The dachshund blinked at her, her furry ears forming soft peaks. She pawed Hazel’s leg, clearly begging for attention. Hazel shook her head. “You’re pestering the wrong person, pooch. I won’t pet you.”

  Margaret Diane burst out laughing. “Mother, she’s been sitting beside you for more than five minutes. You were petting her while you were on the phone.”

  Hazel frowned. “I did no such thing.”

  “You did, Grandma.” Meghan seemed more concerned than amused. “Don’t you remember?”

  “No.” Hazel glared at the dog, who gazed up at her with round brown eyes and her mouth forming a doggie grin. Her old shepherd pal, Farley, used to smile that same way. Sadness rolled through her. “Which one is this?”

  “Miney.” Margaret Diane snickered. “You know, from the litter I jokingly named Eenie, Meenie, Miney, and Mo. By the time I decided to keep her, the name had stuck. Isn’t that right, Miney?” The dog’s ears perked even higher. But she didn’t move.

  Temptation to stroke the animal’s head—this time with full use of her senses—tugged hard. “You think I want to look at that picture with you holding on to animals like they’re something special?” Her mother’s voice, harsh and condemning, roared through her memory. Hazel cupped her hands under Miney’s stomach and gently urged her off the sofa. “Go to your mama. I don’t want you.” But even she recognized the lack of conviction in her tone.

  Before either Meghan or Margaret Diane could question her, she aimed a tart look at her granddaughter. “Please tell me more about this partner of yours. Do you have a photo of him? I’d like to see a face to go with his voice.”

  “Maybe next time we’ll do FaceTime. Then you can see him for yourself.”

  “And he would be able to see me?”

  Meghan nodded.

  Hazel wrinkled her nose. “I’d scare him to death. No, you just tell me.” She wanted to see Sean through Meghan’s eyes.

  “Well…” Pink stole across Meghan’s cheeks. She leaned into the cushions and aimed her gaze to the ceiling. “He’s never said so, but I think he might have some Native American blood in him. For one thing, his last name is Eagle. Doesn’t that sound Native American? For another, his complexion is always a shade darker than anyone else’s. He has thick dark-brown hair he keeps cut short—almost like someone in the military.” She angled her face toward Hazel and winked. “He’s got the fighting-man bod, too. Downright hunky.”

  Hazel pursed her lips to keep from smiling. “Meghan…”

  “Hey, I’ve got eyes. Pretty hard to miss a good-lookin’ guy when he’s sitting across a desk from you day after day.”

  Hazel chuckled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were smitten with your partner.”

  Margaret Diane sat up, too. “Smitten is an old-fashioned word. My generation would say Meghan has the hots for him.”

  “And neither of your generations needs to weigh in on that.” Meghan bounced a firm look across both of them. “Sean’s my partner and he’s also my friend. I know I can count on him. But he’s never hinted at anything more.”

  “Maybe you should hint.”

  Margaret Diane said what Hazel was thinking. What little she’d gleaned about Sean Eagle during their brief telephone exchange intrigued her. And Meghan’s description, particularly of his character, impressed her. He seemed exactly the kind of man she’d prayed would come into Meghan’s life. She prayed the same thing for Margaret Diane. Hazel’s daughter was still a young woman. There was time for her to fall in love with a decent, caring man and enjoy years of happiness. If she was willing to give up her fierce independence.

  “Color me narrow minded, but”—Meghan folded her arms over her chest and lifted her chin—“I think the man should be the one to make the first move. And Sean hasn’t moved. I’m not going to mess up our good working relationship by resorting to flirtation.”

  Margaret Diane’s lips twitched. “But you’ve been tempted?”

  Meghan snorted. “Grandma would be tempted. He’s that cute. But…” Her stiff stance relaxed. “He needs to date someone who goes to church, who believes like he does.”

  Her granddaughter’s change in demeanor, from teasing to melancholy, pierced Hazel. She squeezed Meghan’s knee. “I’m sorry if we’ve embarrassed you, honey. We won’t talk about Sean anymore.”

  “Today,” Margaret Diane interjected with a smirk.

  Hazel frowned at her daughter. “Until Meghan decides she wants to talk about him. For now, should we do another page in t
he scrapbook? Or are you getting hungry? I thought I’d get out the little gas grill and cook some asparagus, zucchini, and corn on the cob for our supper.”

  “Why, Mother, that sounds fantastic!” Margaret Diane pressed her palms to her bodice, her eyebrows high. “You’re becoming a regular vegan chef.”

  Her Margaret Diane had paid her a compliment. A genuine, heartfelt compliment. Hazel’s chest swelled with happiness. “I’ll get the grill ready.”

  Diane

  Diane flopped onto the mattress on her side and propped up her head with her hand. She poked Meghan on the shoulder. “Okay, it’s just the two of us now. So tell me, do you have the hots for Sean Eagle?”

  Meghan rolled her eyes. “Mom, for Pete’s sake, are we in junior high?”

  Diane laughed. “Not even close. But I think it’s been since you were in junior high that I saw you get all embarrassed and blushing when a boy’s name was mentioned.”

  Meghan’s face flamed. She reached for the bedside lamp.

  “No, don’t turn it off yet.”

  “I’m sleepy.” Meghan yawned—an extraordinarily long, forced yawn. “And we’ve got a full day planned for tomorrow.”

  “I know, I know.” Diane ticked off the activities with her fingers. “Get Mother’s photograph enlarged, take her necklace to a jeweler, maybe meet some of her Books and Mocha—”

  “Lit and Latte.”

  Diane huffed. “Reading group for lunch, browse the flea market.” She frowned. “We’ve got almost six weeks. I don’t know why she thinks she has to do everything in one day.”

  Meghan closed her eyes and linked her hands over her belly. “She probably wants to stay busy so she doesn’t have to think. I imagine Maggie is dominating her thoughts right now. And even Sean said finding her will be a long shot.”

  “I didn’t hear him say that.”

  “He said it to me when he called after dinner.”

  “Aha!” Diane poked Meghan again and grinned when her daughter opened her eyes and scowled. “Why’d he call back? He couldn’t know anything about the case yet, so it had to be personal.”