parked her car near a corner so it would be hard to tell exactly where she was headed. She was anxious to get to the Underwoods', but it was early still. Little boys were rarely outside before nine or so. So instead of heading toward the Underwoods' house, she started to run with Jerri in the opposite direction.
She and Jerri made a three-mile loop, passing the Underwoods' house twice in the process. It was still quiet the second time she came by, so she continued to run. Her breathing measured, she was more relaxed than she'd been since the time Ryan had been picked up from school. In the past hours, she had wondered a thousand times what she was doing or thinking the moment Ryan was stolen. Had she felt his pain? It was not something she let herself dwell on now. She focused on the pattern of her breathing, on the steady whoosh-whoosh of the air as she pushed it out her mouth. Her feet went plat-plat on the moist concrete while Jerri's chain tink ed beside her.
Jerri was keeping up, although she knew he wasn't used to so much exercise. She would make sure he got plenty of water afterward. She made a smaller loop and started up the Underwoods' street in time to catch the gray Suburban backing out of the drive. She ran faster, waving to stop them despite the fact that she couldn't possibly explain why she would be asking questions about who had picked R.J. up from school unless something was desperately wrong.
She waved anyway. Something would come to her.
The driver of the truck was about her age, maybe a few years older. His hair was salty on the edges and he appeared to be balding. He looked short behind the wheel, and as she reached the car, he stopped and rolled down the window.
She stopped running and shook her head to give herself time to suck in a deep breath. Beside him in the passenger seat sat a young boy. He wore a navy-and-white game shirt. She hoped he wasn't Jamie because the chances of getting to talk to this boy alone didn't look good.
"I just had a question about today's soccer game," she said, noting the shin guards the boy had in his lap and praying she'd guessed the right sport.
"Claremont or St. Stephens?" he asked.
St. Stephens was where Ryan went. "St. Stephens," she answered, feeling the words come out in a croak.
He smiled. "Inside. I'm on Claremont today. Lisa can help."
"Great."
He waved and started off, the diesel Suburban a rattling roar on the quiet street.
She waited until he was out of sight to turn to the house again. It was still quiet and she didn't want to ring the bell and have to explain to Peggy that she needed to talk to Jamie. She found a spot of sidewalk that was blocked by a hedge and sat down to stretch. If anyone asked, she'd just say she pulled something. Everyone in their forties could appreciate that.
Jerri formed a furry ball against the cool cement, lying on his face and dropping his chin on his front paws as he panted to cool off. She wished she'd brought some water with her, but they'd both have to wait. She looked repeatedly at her watch. The Dawsons were never gone more than about three and a half hours, and she needed to get the dog home before they returned.
Almost a half hour had passed before she finally got to her feet and started to think of excuses to ring the bell. As she started in a slow stroll toward the house, a kid on a scooter zipped by and dropped the scooter at the bottom of the Underwoods' stairs before bolting up them and pulling his helmet off.
He rang the bell once, waited not quite ten seconds, and then rang it two more times.
Standing in front of the neighbor's yard, she heard someone yell from inside.
The door opened and a boy R.J.'s age came out to join the second kid, a scooter in hand.
She watched the two of them talk, wondering how to intercept them before they took off. Looking down at Jerri, she had an idea. She unhooked his leash and bent down to rub his head. "Okay, Jerri. Be a good boy. Now go."
Giving him a little shove
She and Jerri made a three-mile loop, passing the Underwoods' house twice in the process. It was still quiet the second time she came by, so she continued to run. Her breathing measured, she was more relaxed than she'd been since the time Ryan had been picked up from school. In the past hours, she had wondered a thousand times what she was doing or thinking the moment Ryan was stolen. Had she felt his pain? It was not something she let herself dwell on now. She focused on the pattern of her breathing, on the steady whoosh-whoosh of the air as she pushed it out her mouth. Her feet went plat-plat on the moist concrete while Jerri's chain tink ed beside her.
Jerri was keeping up, although she knew he wasn't used to so much exercise. She would make sure he got plenty of water afterward. She made a smaller loop and started up the Underwoods' street in time to catch the gray Suburban backing out of the drive. She ran faster, waving to stop them despite the fact that she couldn't possibly explain why she would be asking questions about who had picked R.J. up from school unless something was desperately wrong.
She waved anyway. Something would come to her.
The driver of the truck was about her age, maybe a few years older. His hair was salty on the edges and he appeared to be balding. He looked short behind the wheel, and as she reached the car, he stopped and rolled down the window.
She stopped running and shook her head to give herself time to suck in a deep breath. Beside him in the passenger seat sat a young boy. He wore a navy-and-white game shirt. She hoped he wasn't Jamie because the chances of getting to talk to this boy alone didn't look good.
"I just had a question about today's soccer game," she said, noting the shin guards the boy had in his lap and praying she'd guessed the right sport.
"Claremont or St. Stephens?" he asked.
St. Stephens was where Ryan went. "St. Stephens," she answered, feeling the words come out in a croak.
He smiled. "Inside. I'm on Claremont today. Lisa can help."
"Great."
He waved and started off, the diesel Suburban a rattling roar on the quiet street.
She waited until he was out of sight to turn to the house again. It was still quiet and she didn't want to ring the bell and have to explain to Peggy that she needed to talk to Jamie. She found a spot of sidewalk that was blocked by a hedge and sat down to stretch. If anyone asked, she'd just say she pulled something. Everyone in their forties could appreciate that.
Jerri formed a furry ball against the cool cement, lying on his face and dropping his chin on his front paws as he panted to cool off. She wished she'd brought some water with her, but they'd both have to wait. She looked repeatedly at her watch. The Dawsons were never gone more than about three and a half hours, and she needed to get the dog home before they returned.
Almost a half hour had passed before she finally got to her feet and started to think of excuses to ring the bell. As she started in a slow stroll toward the house, a kid on a scooter zipped by and dropped the scooter at the bottom of the Underwoods' stairs before bolting up them and pulling his helmet off.
He rang the bell once, waited not quite ten seconds, and then rang it two more times.
Standing in front of the neighbor's yard, she heard someone yell from inside.
The door opened and a boy R.J.'s age came out to join the second kid, a scooter in hand.
She watched the two of them talk, wondering how to intercept them before they took off. Looking down at Jerri, she had an idea. She unhooked his leash and bent down to rub his head. "Okay, Jerri. Be a good boy. Now go."
Giving him a little shove
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