by Sue Pethick
The boy shook his head, appalled at his own faintheartedness, and remembered what Mr. Baden-Powell had said about the Boy Scout motto: “Be prepared so that you know the right thing to do at the right moment and are willing to do it.” Well, Kieran thought, this was the right moment to save Max, and it looked as if he was the only one willing to do it.
For a while, his mother and Uncle Jack had been talking quietly and moving around in the living room, but their voices were fainter now, and Kieran suspected they were in the kitchen. He would have liked to wait until they went to bed, but his mom always stayed up later than the rest of the family, and he wanted to get going before he chickened out. It wouldn’t be easy getting dressed and ready without getting caught, but he did have one bit of good luck: He didn’t have to go out the front door in order to leave the house. Grandpa’s apartment had its own door.
Kieran threw back his covers and silently pulled on his clothes. With the snow still falling outside, he’d have to dress warmly; he didn’t want to be forced to return too quickly. He put two shirts on over his pajama top and a sweater over that, then two pairs of socks and his jeans. His heavy jacket had already been moved downstairs to make room for their guests’ things, but his snow boots were still upstairs in his closet. Once he’d gotten those, he’d slip out Grandpa’s door and head straight for the woods.
When his mother told everyone that the dog would find shelter if it couldn’t get home that night, Kieran had immediately thought of the fort. With the branches overhead to keep out the wet and snow and walls to protect it from the wind, it would be a perfect shelter. If he hadn’t known about Cody’s dad shooting at Max, the thought that he’d be waiting in the fort might have been enough to convince Kieran to stay inside and wait for morning. But if Max had been shot, staying dry wouldn’t keep him from bleeding to death, and it would still be too cold for a wounded animal. He had to see for himself whether or not Max had made it to the fort. If he didn’t, Kieran knew he’d never be able to sleep.
Kieran put on his jacket and felt in the right-hand pocket for the piece of Max’s fur that he’d found that first day in the woods. When Cody had destroyed his hair collection, he’d managed to salvage it, along with a few of the more precious bags inside, and he thought of it now as a good luck charm. Which was good, the boy thought. He had a feeling he was going to need that luck.
He started toward the stairs and bumped his shin against the coffee table, rattling the things sitting on its top. In the bed across the room, Grandpa grunted and smacked his lips.
“What’s going on?”
“I have to go pee,” Kieran whispered.
“Hmph. Fine.”
He heard the bedclothes rustle as Grandpa rolled over. Moments later, he was snoring again. Kieran tiptoed upstairs to get his boots.
At the top of the landing, he paused, listening for the voices in the kitchen. His mother and Uncle Jack were speaking so softly he couldn’t make out what they were saying, but Kieran figured it was probably okay. You couldn’t see that part of the hallway from the kitchen, so as long as the two of them stayed where they were, he’d be fine.
The door to his room was open a few inches—enough to let his cousins have some light in the unfamiliar room, but not enough for him to slip through. Kieran set his hand against the door and pushed gently.
Grace and Lilly were asleep in his bed, their blond curls weighed down by beads of sweat. He glanced toward the closet, relieved to find the door open and his boots in plain sight. For a moment, he considered taking a hat from his dresser, but the drawers were sticky, and he didn’t want to take the chance. The jacket’s hood, he decided, would just have to be enough. Kieran crept over to the closet, grabbed his boots, and snuck silently back out the door. He was almost to the first step when he heard a harsh whisper behind him.
“What are you doing?”
He turned, his heart in his throat, and saw Lilly peering at him sleepily.
“Shh!” he said, glancing toward the kitchen. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Yes you are,” she said, pointing toward the boots in his hand. “You’re going to look for Max.”
Kieran deflated, realizing that there was no way he was going to be able to fib his way out of this. His only chance was to tell the truth and hope his cousin wouldn’t give him away.
“I have to,” he said. “I think I know where he is.”
Her eyes widened.
“Really? Where?”
He pursed his lips, wondering if he could trust her. He’d already been in trouble for going into the woods by himself during the daytime. If Lilly squealed, he’d be in more trouble than if his mother had thought he was just checking for the dog in their yard.
“Just a place I know,” he said casually.
Lilly’s expression hardened.
“If you don’t tell me, I’ll cry. And then my mommy will wake up and she’ll know what you were doing.”
In the silence of the hallway, Lilly’s voice had gotten noticeably louder. Kieran shushed her again.
“Okay, I’ll tell you,” he whispered. “But you can’t tell anybody. Promise?”
Lilly solemnly crossed her heart.
“Promise.”
He licked his lips.
“There’s a fort in the woods where we like to play. I think he might be there.”
“Can I go, too?”
“No, but if you don’t tell, I’ll let you play there with us tomorrow. Deal?”
“Deal,” Lilly said, and toddled back to bed.
Kieran took a deep breath and crept back downstairs, put on his boots, and slipped silently out the apartment door, making sure to close it tightly behind him. In the glare of the porch lights, the front yard looked like a just-shaken snow globe and the ground was covered in a layer of pure white powder. Kieran pulled up his hood and put on his gloves. Then he walked to the end of the driveway, turning left toward the woods, and hunched his shoulders against a wind that was quickly covering up his tracks.
CHAPTER 35
Renee and her brother sat at the kitchen table sipping mugs of spiced apple cider and reminiscing about Christmases past. With the kids in bed and the stockings filled, she knew they should try and get some sleep, but neither of them seemed willing to call it a night. Although everyone had gotten along better that day, their visit had had a rocky start, and there was still Christmas morning to get through. With the fallout from their last holiday together still fresh in her mind, Renee wondered if Jack was thinking the same thing that she was: They might not get a chance to do this again.
“Seems like you and Megan have been hitting it off,” Jack said.
Renee laughed.
“She only loves me for my wine.”
He shrugged. “Whatever works.”
She took another sip of cider and set her mug on the table.
“Which reminds me,” she said. “What’s with the special diet? Is Lilly allergic?”
Jack sighed.
“No. It’s something Megan read about on the Internet.”
He gave her a sideways glance.
“Lilly’s pediatrician thinks she might have ADD.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Renee said. “The kid’s a fireball.”
“Yeah, well, it’s got Megan in a lather to do something about it,” Jack said. “And it’s driving me nuts.”
Renee stared at the cider in her mug, wondering if this explained Megan’s treatment of Kieran the day before. Perhaps she was blaming Jack’s family for Lilly’s “bad genes.”
“So, are you going to have her tested?”
“Eventually, I suppose. The doctor says right now we’re better off just making sure she gets enough exercise and plenty of rest.”
“But Megan doesn’t think that’s enough.”
“Megan never thinks anything is enough,” he said. “The second they got home from the doctor’s, she was on the computer searching for alternative treatments. The woman is obsessed.”
&nb
sp; “So, maybe it isn’t entirely our family’s fault.”
Jack laughed.
“By all means, feel free to tell her that.”
“No thanks. There’s not enough wine in the world to save me from that.”
Jack studied the table top.
“I suppose Greg blamed you for KK’s problems, too.”
“Yup. According to him, it was either our family’s bad genetics or my lousy parenting. Pretty much my fault, either way.”
Her brother sighed.
“You miss him?”
“Who, Greg?” Renee shook her head. “The kids do, though. I feel bad about it, but there’s nothing I can do.”
“I’m sorry your latest prospect didn’t work out.”
Renee sat back and gave him a frank stare.
“Did Megan tell you that?”
Jack grinned and shook his head.
“Dad and I don’t fight all the time.”
Thinking about the fights Jack and their father had had since her divorce reminded Renee of her sister-in-law’s theory. She decided to run it by her brother to see what he thought.
“Megan thinks the reason Dad’s so hard on you is because Greg is out of the picture.”
Jack swallowed a mouthful of cider and shook his head.
“Dad’s always been hard on me. It’s got nothing to do with Greg.”
“True,” she said, “but I still think she may be onto something. You know, him being here, taking care of us, maybe Dad still feels like the alpha male.”
“I think you’re both reading too much into it. What Dad really needs,” he said, “is a hobby.”
Renee giggled. “Or a girlfriend.”
He snorted. “Yeah, right.”
“Don’t laugh,” she said. “There’s gotta be some old lady somewhere who’ll take him.”
Jack tapped his chin thoughtfully.
“Let’s see, how would that personal ad read? ‘Older, infinitely patient single woman willing to play nursemaid to cantankerous old codger. Must be financially independent.’”
“Well, when you put it like that . . .”
Renee’s eye roll provoked a fit of giggles from her brother.
“Oh, lord,” Jack said, checking his watch. “It’s almost eleven thirty. If we don’t turn in before midnight, the kids’ll wake up and demand to open their presents.”
“You really think they’d do that?”
“You think they wouldn’t?”
She shook her head.
“You’re right. We’d better turn in.”
Renee set their mugs in the sink as Jack headed down the hall to join his wife. Talking to her brother had helped her put some things into perspective. She could see her own concerns about Kieran’s diagnosis mirrored in Megan’s anxiety about Lilly, and Jack’s dismissal of his wife’s theory about Wendell had helped her feel less guilty about relying on their father for help. As she turned off the lights and headed down for a final bed check, she congratulated herself for inviting them.
McKenna was sprawled on Renee’s bed, leaving only about a quarter of the mattress free, and Dylan’s door was closed—a none-too-subtle message that he was not to be disturbed. At the top of the stairs, she paused and listened to her father’s deep, rhythmic snores, wondering how Kieran was able to sleep with all that noise. She glanced back toward the family room. If he was still awake, she could transfer his sheets and blankets up there and let him sleep where it was quieter. Better that than having him lie awake all night listening to his grandfather sawing logs.
Renee crept downstairs, feeling the temperature drop as she entered the former basement. Even with the extra insulation, Wendell’s apartment was always colder than the rest of the house. He claimed he preferred it that way, but the older he got, the more the chill down there seemed to bother him and it worried her. It was a rare day when she found him without an afghan in his lap.
The light from the hallway didn’t penetrate very far into the room, and it wasn’t until Renee was within a few feet of the couch that she noticed anything was wrong. Her first thought was that Kieran had burrowed under the covers, but as her eyes adjusted to the lower light, she saw that they’d been thrown back, the pillow lying askew on the armrest.
He must be in the bathroom, she thought, then quickly realized that it, too, was empty.
A growing sense of panic engulfed her as she searched the room. Had he gotten into bed with her father? She turned on the light as Wendell roused.
“Dad, is Kieran in there with you?”
“No, why?”
She looked around.
“I can’t find him,” she said.
“Did you look upstairs?”
Renee chuckled nervously. He must have snuck upstairs to check on the stockings and fallen asleep on the floor. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been anxious to get a jump on Christmas morning.
“I’ll go check up there. Sorry to disturb you.”
She turned off the light and headed back upstairs, scolding herself for being such a ninny. But Kieran wasn’t in the living room. Nor was he in the family room or the little girls’ room. As Renee knocked on Dylan’s door, her heart was pounding. If her son wasn’t in the house, he must be outside. But if he was outside, what was he doing?
Everyone was awake and every room in the house had been searched by the time Renee finally called the police. Her hand shook as she pressed 911 and waited for the dispatcher to answer. It wasn’t until she heard the woman’s voice on the line that she finally broke down.
“I need help,” she sobbed. “My son is missing.”
CHAPTER 36
The sheriff’s deputies had set up a command post in Renee’s family room. Half a dozen volunteers drank coffee and stared at the grid map on the breakfast table while Deputy Freeman gave them their assignments, and a police band radio on the kitchen counter emitted an indecipherable patois of hisses and ominous mumbling. In spite of the furnace running full blast, the front door had been opened and closed so many times that the temperature in the house had become noticeably chilly.
The adults of the family were all up and dressed, as was a grim-faced Dylan, who stood on the sidelines gripping the keys to his car like a lifeline. McKenna and Grace were huddled under a blanket on the couch, half-asleep, with Lilly, who watched the proceedings in mute dismay. In the fifty-three minutes since Renee had called the police, another two inches of snow had fallen, and so far, the only footprints anyone had found were those left by people who were looking for Kieran. As the minutes ticked by, Renee was finding it harder and harder to be patient. Why weren’t they doing anything?
As if he’d been reading her mind, Judd Freeman walked over and quietly explained that they were waiting for the tracker dog and its handler to arrive from Columbia. Not only was it Christmas Eve, but a snowstorm like the one they were experiencing was a once-in-a-hundred-year event, and people weren’t prepared to be driving in it. In the meantime, though, the neighbors had been alerted, and he and his volunteers were about to begin a grid-by-grid search of the area.
“Unless you have some idea of where your son might have gone,” he told her. “I’m afraid that’s the best I can do.”
Renee pressed her lips together and nodded, determined not to cry. She’d been almost hysterical by the time Freeman and his team had arrived, and as a result, Jack and her father had had to give the initial report to the deputies. No doubt, they all understood, but afterward she’d felt ashamed and promised herself that she would not do it again. She didn’t want anyone thinking she was too weak and delicate to be told the truth. Whatever had happened to her son, she wanted to hear it first and without any sugarcoating.
The volunteers were given their assignments and the six of them left, along with Dylan, Jack, and Deputy Freeman. Wendell had argued that he should be allowed to go as well, but Renee reminded him that two adults were needed at the house—one to monitor the phone and one to watch the kids—and if Kieran were found, she wanted to
be able to go and see him right away. In a concession to her father’s vanity, however, she had not mentioned that the last thing anyone needed was for him to slip and take a tumble in the snow.
With the searchers gone, the house felt cavernous, the girls on the couch so far away that Renee felt she’d have to yell for them to hear her. On impulse, she began walking around the room, picking up discarded coffee cups and putting them in the trash while she racked her brains for anything Kieran might have said or done to indicate where he was going. There was no doubt in anyone’s minds, of course, why he’d run off. He was looking for Max.
Renee blamed herself. She should have told him the truth instead of pretending that the dog had simply run off when the deputy tried to take him to the shelter. Thinking back on the powwow she and the other adults had had after he went to bed, she realized that their voices must have drifted down to Wendell’s apartment where Kieran, lying on the couch, could hear them. She closed her eyes and felt a shudder pass through her, imagining her baby caught out in the blizzard, searching for a dog that might not even be alive. If only Max had run back home, none of this would have happened.
She looked at Megan.
“I’m going to call Travis.”
“What for? He said he’d call if the dog came home.”
“I know,” Renee said as she called his number. “But maybe he thought it was too late to call.”
“Hello?”
Travis’s voice sounded husky, and Renee immediately regretted having ignored her sister-in-law’s advice. Still, she thought, the man was awake now. Hanging up without saying anything would be worse than asking him a foolish question.
“Hey,” she said. “Sorry to bother you, but I wondered if Max had come home yet.”
“No,” Travis said. “I haven’t seen him. Have you?”
Renee swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice under control.
“No,” she said. “But Kieran—”
Her voice broke.
“Kieran what? Renee, what’s wrong?”
Renee shook her head.
“He ran away. We think—we think he’s out looking for Max.”