long streak. She spun around to find Logan Diffenderfer standing there.
“Shit,” he said. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. It’s…” She tilted her head and looked at the long streak of paint. “It’s cool, actually. I like it.” She turned and saw the heavy expression on Logan’s face. “What?” she asked.
“I talked to the private investigator. To see if he’ll take your case.”
Ava nodded. She was ready to accept the answer no matter what it was. In fact, it would probably be better if he wouldn’t do it. Her mom and her therapist were right. She wasn’t in a good place for this. She wasn’t strong enough.
“He’ll do it.”
Relief flooded through Ava like a wave. Her mind hadn’t been ready to admit how badly she wanted this, but her body apparently knew. “Thank god,” she said quietly.
Logan shifted. “Before I tell him to go ahead, I just want to make sure. I mean, make sure you’re sure. Carl, that’s the investigator, he was telling me how complicated these kinds of cases are. Not like it would be complicated to find her. But… emotionally. For you. He felt a little weird about doing this for someone so young.”
Everyone thought they knew what was best for her. Her mom, her therapist, and now Carl. “But he will? He’ll do it?”
Logan nodded. “Yeah. But…” Logan shifted again. She’d never seen him so uncomfortable. “Ava, are you sure? This sounds like… a lot.”
“And you think I’m not strong enough?”
“No. Not at all. I know you’re strong enough.”
His eyes met hers and she looked quickly away.
“I’m ready,” Ava said. “This is what I want.”
“Okay. I’ll tell him.”
Ava looked up and saw that Logan was staring at her canvas. She was suddenly embarrassed. The piece was beyond abstract. It was chaotic. Ava felt exposed and vulnerable. She didn’t want Logan to see the frantic and crazy brushstrokes of her frantic and crazy mind.
“It’s not done yet,” she said. “I’m trying something new.”
“It’s cool, though. It’s the jungle gym, right?”
Ava was confused until she looked at her painting. He was absolutely right. The brushstrokes had come together in a way that formed an abstract image of the jungle gym.
“I’ll go call Carl,” Logan said.
After he left, Ava stepped back and looked at her canvas for a long time. Her painting wasn’t crazy at all. It was beautiful.
CJ picked up cones from the gym floor after an afternoon of indoor soccer.
“I think that went well,” Wyatt said.
CJ nodded, though not particularly exuberantly. Dakota was a no-show that day.
Wyatt tilted his head to the side, and CJ got ready for him to say something sage about how they couldn’t force Dakota and that CJ needed to stop being so hard on herself.
“I’m having a crazy thought,” Wyatt said. “Do you have anywhere you need to be right now?”
She shook her head.
“Good. Because I’m thinking we should kidnap Dakota.”
CJ laughed. Until she realized that Wyatt was serious. Then she sighed and got her car keys. Ten minutes later, they pulled up to Dakota’s house.
“We’re not talking about an actual kidnapping, are we?” CJ asked as she put the car in park.
“Next time you agree to a kidnapping, you should probably clarify all the details in advance. Rookie mistake, Clarke.”
The house was small with chipping paint and a front deck that needed some serious work and a garden that was nice and obviously well loved. CJ got out of the car, set up Wyatt’s wheelchair next to the passenger seat, and locked the wheels. She leaned down and he put his arm on her shoulder. “Okay,” he said, once he was in his chair. “Let’s get her.”
The path to the door was smooth and new, put in to accommodate a wheelchair.
“I hate to be practical when it seems like you’re really into the spontaneity of this,” CJ said. “But do you have any idea what we’re actually going to do with her?”
“Not a clue.” He rang the doorbell.
“Have you at least thought about what we’re going to say to her mom?”
Wyatt looked up and to the left. “Hmm. No. But I probably should.”
The door opened before Wyatt could give it much thought. Margaret seemed surprised to see them. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” said Wyatt. “We’re here to kidnap your daughter. I know this sounds strange, and we’re not entirely sure—”
“Take her,” Margaret said. “She’s yours. Oh my god. Please. Take her.” Margaret turned back into the house. “Dakota! Grab your coat!”
Once they had Dakota in the back seat and CJ had figured out how to stack