All That's Missing by Sarah Sullivan Page A

while the jutting-out-chin lady fixed coffee in the kitchen. Blood pumped through his body so fast, it made his knees jiggle. He stood up and walked around the room, but that didn’t help either. There would be no relief until he saw Ida Jones face-to-face. And even then, there were no guarantees. What if she didn’t like him? Without realizing it, Arlo squeezed his fist around the wood carving and made a wish.
Please let her like me,
he thought.

Arlo had no idea how long he’d been asleep. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep in the first place. Not in this lady’s house. But he was so tired.
    There was another lady standing in front of him now. She was turned to her side, so he couldn’t see her face, but she wasn’t a large woman, and though she looked to be on the thin side, there was something substantial about her. You could tell she wasn’t the sort of person you could steamroll over. If somebody tried to push her around, she would put up a fight. That wasn’t how he’d expected his grandmother to look. Shoot. What had he expected? Who knows? Photographs weren’t much to go on. Especially not if they were fourteen years old, like the ones in the album back home.
    â€œIs that him?” the new lady asked.
    â€œWell, who else would it be?” the jutting-out-chin lady said.
    â€œArlo was only two the last time I saw him. I don’t remember his hair being so dark.”
    â€œHair darkens as they get older,” the jutting-out-chin lady said. “That’s what happened with Lucius.”
    â€œMaybe you’re right.”
    â€œOf course I’m right.” The jutting-out-chin lady lowered her voice. “What do you suppose he’s doing here?”
    â€œI have no idea, Augusta. But I’d feel a lot better if Al Sabatini had called before he sent the boy to Edgewater. Unfortunately, that’s not Al’s style.”
    â€œWho’s Al Batini?”
    â€œ
Sa
-ba-tini. You remember.” Arlo’s grandmother pronounced each syllable carefully. “Arlo’s grandfather. On his mother’s side.”
    â€œOh, him. It’s a wonder that man’s still alive. I remember all those stories you told me about those people.”
    Those people?
Arlo pressed his eyelids tightly closed.
    â€œCareful, Augusta. The boy might hear you.”
    â€œI don’t think so, Ida. Looks like he’s sound asleep to me.”
    The other lady,
his grandmother,
sniffed. “It was mostly his mother I had a problem with,” she said. “The way she tricked Wake . . . Wait a minute. Are his eyes open?”
    â€œNo, Ida. That’s just the angle you’re looking from.”
    â€œYou don’t suppose he’s run away, do you?”
    â€œNow, there’s a thought.” The jutting-out-chin lady leaned closer. “When I first saw that car drive up, I knew there was something fishy about it. Doris and Phil never have company. They stopped going to church years ago. Keep to themselves mostly. So what would a strange car be doing in their driveway?”
    â€œYou’d think Al would have called if Arlo was missing.”
    â€œAl?”
    â€œSabatini. Pay attention, Augusta.”
    â€œSorry. You don’t need to be so touchy. I still don’t understand why he went in their house. When a strange person wanders around an empty house, you know that means trouble.”
    â€œYou want to check his pockets?”
    Arlo lifted an eyelid. The new lady was glaring at the jutting-out-chin lady.
    â€œSorry, Ida.”
    â€œWhat if he was kidnapped?”
    Arlo tried to open his eye a little wider without being noticed. He wanted a peek at the new lady’s eyebrows. Unfortunately, both ladies were watching him like a hawk.
    â€œArlo?”
    â€œ
Uh.
Hi.”
    The jutting-out-chin lady slid to the edge of her chair, craning her neck like a buzzard swooping down on roadkill.
    â€œI’m