She rushed out to greet me as I opened the truck door. “Lila, Trey still isn’t home!” My mother stared at me wide-eyed, her wet hair clinging to her face. “I’ve got a real bad feelin’. The cards won’t show me what’s goin’ on with him. I get nervous when they go quiet.”
I grabbed her hand, and we dashed up the steps to the shelter of the porch. The rain pummeled the roof, battering my already frayed nerves. Seeing my mother’s frantic expression, my anxiety intensified. Trey had never stayed out this long before. “Did he leave a message? He didn’t call to say he wasn’t coming home?” I couldn’t help asking these questions, even though I knew the answers. My mother wouldn’t be this worked up if she knew something I didn’t.
“Not a word. If I wasn’t already worried about you, I might be able to focus on where he is, but I’m right overwhelmed!” She clutched my arm. “We haven’t seen him since yesterday, sug. It’s time to call the police.”
Her trepidation was serious if she was suggesting we turn to the police instead of relying on her special powers. I was torn, vacillating between thinking that something was truly wrong and believing that Trey was just being rebellious in the aftermath of his accident and our abrupt move. I hoped it was just rebellion. The other alternative, the possibility that something horrible had happened to him, was too frightening to consider, and I pushed the unwelcome thought firmly aside.
“Do you think the truck would make it up that dirt road? Maybe we should go to the Red Fox Co-op and look for him,” I suggested, already fingering the truck keys. The last time I’d seen Trey was at supper the day before, when he stomped off in a huff at my insistence that he be more proactive in his job hunt. I’d been so wrapped up in my own concerns, I’d failed to pay attention to what might be going on with him, and in my guilt I wanted to find him myself and fix the problem.
“But we don’t know for sure he’s there. And drivin’ up the mountain in the dark in this kind of rain…There are no lights up there. I don’t like it.” My mother wrapped her hands around mine. “He’s been gone for twenty-four hours, Lila. That makes him an official missin’ person. Let’s get someone official to look into it.”
I had to admit her idea was warranted. Any chagrin about my failings as a parent should not get in the way of finding Trey. If I contacted Sean I could also tell him about the vandalism. Abruptly, a disturbing thought invaded my mind, making my mouth go dry. What if Trey’s disappearance was connected to the message on my front door?
It was not without reservations that I dialed Sean’s cell phone, knowing I should phone the police station and not be taking advantage of my personal connection with Sean. But I figured I’d get faster results dealing directly with him. Besides, I wanted to see him, to be comforted by his air of authority and assurance.
When his phone began to ring, I almost hung up. Why was I disturbing him so late? He was probably off duty, enjoying his Friday night. Perhaps he wasn’t alone. Perhaps he would think I was a silly, easily frightened woman. However, I didn’t hang up. My son was missing, and I needed the help of someone I could trust.
“Sean Griffiths here.”
His welcoming, rich voice broke through my doubts. “Sean? It’s Lila Wilkins. I’m sorry to call so late—”
“No problem. What’s up?” He sounded glad to hear from me. A cacophony of voices and laughter reverberated in the background.
“It’s Trey. He hasn’t been home since yesterday and we, that is, my mother and I, don’t know where he is.”
My mother poked me. “Tell him he’s been missin’ for twenty-four hours,” she whispered loudly.
I waved my hand at her. “We want to report him as missing. Can I do that through you?”
“Usually you’d call the station to do that. Just a sec.” His voice became muffled as he said something indistinguishable, presumably to someone in the room with him. “Tell you what, I’ll come over and you can fill me in. You’re staying at your mother’s place, right?”
Relief streamed over me like raindrops. “Yes, thanks, Sean. My mother is, um, her professional name is Amazing Althea, and her place is just south of town, at the end of Magnolia Lane.”
“I know where she lives,” he said. “See you in a bit. And Lila?”
“Yes?”
“Hang tight. Trey is probably fine.”
THE VERY PRESENCE of Sean in the house helped to alleviate some of my mounting dread. His calm demeanor and the concern that shone out of his blue eyes instantly settled the panic that had taken hold of me. I was able to describe Trey’s situation in a composed manner, even with my mother interrupting me in order to ply Sean with banana bread and coffee.
And yet, my heart raced when I’d finished talking and he put down his mug to reach over and touch my hand in reassurance.