An hour and a half later the streets of downtown Rain Valley were quiet. The shops had all been locked up, and the parking slots were empty. Just out of sight there were two police barricades set up. No doubt Peanut and Cal were having the time of their lives as the official voices of Police Chief Ellen Barton.
“I guess you’re thinking it’s sorta weird that a woman is the chief of police,” Ellie said, sitting as still as she could on the uncomfortable iron and wooden bench beneath the maple tree. She’d been here for almost an hour and it was becoming obvious that she wouldn’t be able to talk the kid down. It wasn’t entirely surprising. Ellie could drive safely at one hundred miles per hour, shoot a bird from five hundred feet away, and make a grown man confess to burglary, but what she knew about children wouldn’t fill a thimble.
But Peanut and Cal—who did know kids—both thought talking was the ticket. It was the “A” plan. They all agreed it would be best if the girl came down on her own. So Ellie talked.
She glanced down at the platter at the base of the tree. Two perfectly roasted chickens were surrounded by apple and orange slices. A freshly baked apple pie rested on a separate plate. There were several paper plates and forks set in a neat stack. The glass of milk had long since warmed.
It should have been kid food—cheeseburgers and fries and pizza. Why hadn’t she thought of that before?
Still, it smelled heavenly. Ellie’s stomach grumbled, reminding her that it was past dinnertime, and she wasn’t accustomed to missing meals. If it weren’t for daily aerobics classes at the local dance studio, she would certainly have packed on the pounds since high school. And Lord knew a woman of her petite stature couldn’t afford to gain weight. Not when she was unmarried and looking for love.
She cocked her head ever so slightly to the left and looked up.
The girl stared back at her with an unsettling intensity. Eyes the color of a shallow Caribbean sea looked out from beneath a dark fringe of lashes. For a split second Ellie was reminded of her second honeymoon, when she’d first seen a tropical ocean and the hordes of small, dark-skinned children who played in the waves. Those children, as thin as they were, had been full of smiles and laughter.
She glanced across the street to the huge rhododendron in front of the hardware store. Behind it, she knew, a man from Animal Control had his rifle trained in this direction. It was loaded with a tranquilizer dart for the wolf pup. Behind him, a worker from the local game farm was ready with a muzzle and a cage.
Keep talking.
She sighed. “I didn’t really set out to become a cop. I just sort of bumped into it; that’s how life works for me. Now my sister, Julia, she’s a planner. By the time she was ten years old she wanted to be a doctor. Me, I just wanted her Barbie collection.” She smiled ruefully. “I was twenty-one the second time I got married. When that marriage tanked, I moved back in with my dad. That is not a high point for a girl who can legally drink … and boy, did I drink. Margaritas and karaoke were my life back then. I meant to try out for a band, but somehow I never did. Story of my life. Anyway, my Uncle Joe was the chief of police. He made a deal with me: if I’d go to the Police Academy, he’d ignore my parking tickets.” She shrugged. “I had nothing better to do, so I went. When I got home, Uncle Joe hired me on. Turns out I was born for this job.” She shot a glance at the girl.
No movement. Nothing.
Ellie’s stomach grumbled loudly.
“Aw, hell.” She reached down for the chicken and tore off a leg.
As she bit into it, she couldn’t help closing her eyes for just a second. She chewed slowly, swallowed.
The leaves rustled. The branch creaked.
Ellie stilled. She felt a breeze move through the park; it scratched the drying leaves.
The girl leaned forward. The pink tip of her tongue showed between her lips. Ellie noticed that the girl was missing one front tooth.
“Come on,” she whispered. When there was no movement, Ellie tried different words, hoping for a connection. The stories and sentences weren’t working. Maybe simpler was the answer. “Down. Here. Chicken. Pie. Dinner. Food.”
At that, the girl dropped from the branch, landing like a cat, quietly and on all fours, with the pup still in her arms.
Impossible. The child’s bones should have snapped like twigs on impact.
Ellie felt something in her gut tighten. She wasn’t a fanciful or superstitious woman, but just now, sitting here on this bench, staring at this filthy, scrawny child with her silent white wolf pup, she felt a kind of awe.
The girl’s gaze locked on her. Those beautiful, eerie blue-green eyes seemed to see everything.
Ellie didn’t move, didn’t even breathe.
The girl tilted her chin and sniffed the air, then slowly released her hold on the wolf, who stayed close beside her. She took a cautious step toward the chicken.
Then another.
And another.
Ellie released her breath as quietly as she could. The girl moved like a wild animal, sniffing, sensing. The wolf pup shadowed her every move.