The Courage Tree - Diane Chamberlain [47]
“It does,” Sophie would reply. “And I have to sit there for a whole two hours with that needle in my arm.” She might show the leader the small mark on her wrist, the site of her last infusion.
“Well,” the leader would say slyly. “Why don’t you skip seeing ol’ Herbalina tomorrow. How about that?” She’d look at the other little girl. “What do you say we kidnap Sophie and take her to King’s Dominion for a couple of days instead of—”
Lucas sighed. He turned on the clippers again and ran them along the side of the boxwood. The fantasy wasn’t working. No Scout leader could be that irresponsible.
He looked up at the sound of the side door falling shut and saw Donna Snyder walk across the driveway to the three-car garage. Turning off the clippers again, he set them on the ground and walked quickly toward her.
“Mrs. Snyder?” he called.
She stopped to look at him. She was a handsome woman in her late fifties, her blond hair pulled back in a clasp at the nape of her neck. He could easily picture her at the front of a high school history class. She’d probably been an impatient teacher, though; she certainly was impatient with Janine. Even now, her expression was one of irritation at his interruption.
“Is there any news about Sophie?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “Janine and her husband are out looking for her.”
Her ex-husband, he wanted to correct her. Janine had told him her parents had never truly accepted her divorce from Joe.
“Do they have any idea…any new theories on what might have—”
“No. No one seems to have a clue.” She pressed a button on the remote in her hand, and one of the garage doors began to rise. The sunlight caught her eyes as she watched the door’s progress. They were rimmed in crimson, and Lucas felt a pulse of sympathy for her.
“This must be very frightening for you,” he said.
For a moment, his empathy seemed to alter her demeanor, and the guard she usually held in place when she was around him slipped from her shoulders.
“I wish the police would do more,” she said. “They aren’t doing much of—” She shook her head. “I guess they just don’t know what to do, either. What do you do when a child falls off the face of the earth?” She moved toward the open garage. “And now I have to run to the store because there’s nothing in the house. I hate to be away from the phone.”
“Let me go for you,” he volunteered, and he knew by the expression on her face that she found his offer very strange. “Really,” he said. “I’d like to help in some way.”
“Why?” she asked. “This isn’t your family or your problem.”
He thought of telling her he cared about Sophie, but knew that would only feed her paranoia about him. “I’d just like to help,” he said again.
“No, that’s not necessary.” She reached into her purse for her car keys, her guard raised again. “Will you make sure to do the boxwood by the front entrance?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “And I hope they find her very soon.”
He was raking up the boxwood clippings when Joe and Janine pulled into the driveway. It was six o’clock, and he could feel the burn on his face and the back of his neck. He didn’t usually work in the full sun for this long and knew he would pay later for having done so.
Janine got out of the driver’s side of the car, and even from where he stood, he could see the exhaustion in her face. He hoped she’d been able to focus on her driving better than he had on his gardening. Joe got out of the car and started walking across the driveway toward the mansion, looking straight through Lucas as if he were not there, but Janine waved. She hesitated halfway across the driveway, and he knew she wanted to walk over to him, but Joe turned to her and took her arm, guiding her toward the house.
“Any news?” Lucas called out.
Janine shook her head as she allowed herself to be led inside.
It had been over twenty-four hours, Lucas thought. That milestone seemed significant somehow, and he knew it could mean nothing good.
After he’d finished bagging the clippings, he packed up his tools and drove back to his own house. In the kitchen of the fourroom rambler, he took