of the field roared.
I turned and found Danny right behind me, gazing at the parking lot with tears streaming down his face.
TWENTY
“FIND HIM, RAY, OR don’t come home!” I slammed down the phone.
Maury jumped and looked at Erica for guidance. She didn’t blink.
I sank into my living room couch across from their chairs. “Should we keep looking?”
Danny had run from me when I reached out to comfort him, throwing down his helmet and accelerating to a speed unequaled on the field. The last I saw of him, he disappeared into the same woods his father came out of.
After an hour of waiting, then an hour of searching on my own, I’d called Erica and Maury to help. We split our town into quadrants and drove each street at less than ten miles per hour, hoping to catch sight of Danny. Erica then checked some of her favorite old hideouts. I returned to the empty field to see if Danny had come back there. It was all to no avail. He’d now been missing for almost eight hours.
Erica examined her thumbnail. “Danny knows how to hotwire cars and he can drive. He could be in New York City by now, Jo.” She chewed the corner of her thumb.
I wondered if she would rather Danny didn’t come home. She’d run off and gotten married right after he arrived, as though she needed to be first in line for someone’s attention and realized he’d displaced her for mine. Still, she’d leapt in the car to help me search for him. “Ray said no cars have been reported stolen.” Not to mention I’d made Danny promise me a long time ago that he wouldn’t drive anymore—not until he reached sixteen.
“You said no cars were left in the parking lot after the game or parked on the neighboring streets. Maybe Danny found the car his father came in.”
“You’re not making me feel better, Erica.” My only hope was that Danny would never leave his dad, who now sat in the county jail, thanks to Ray, probably in the cell right next to Brennan Rowe, thanks to me. Ray and I were a two-person life-wreaking crew.
“Sorry. Danny’ll be back. Where else has he got to go?” She got up, smoothing her tight jeans down her legs. “We’re going home. I don’t want to be here when Ray gets here. I’ve seen you two fight before. Maury can’t take it.”
First of all, Ray and I didn’t fight. We engaged in brief skirmishes, and, in the past, most of those had been about Erica, who used to live with us. How very like her to overlook that. Ray and I had different approaches to managing her behavior, just as we did with Danny’s behavior.
Maury made a face as though offended at the notion he might be too weak, but he didn’t hesitate to hop up and follow Erica out the door. I couldn’t blame him. I’d had nothing nice to say to Ray for the last six hours. Now it was eight o’clock and my boy was still missing, his heart broken by the one man who had promised to take care of him.
I would never forgive Ray if Danny didn’t come home.
I’d checked Danny’s room when I got home to make sure he hadn’t already been there and packed up his stuff. Of course, when Danny had come to us, he’d brought only the clothes on his back. He might not think anything of leaving the same way. But where would he go? His father was his only living relative. They’d lived in a car and on friends’ couches before his father left him with us. Danny had nowhere to go. This house was his home now. We were his family. Too bad he couldn’t stand the sight of us.
Ray had called to inform me of Danny’s father’s arrest. I informed him that we’d had the distinct displeasure of being witnesses to it and that Danny had run off. Ray promised to find him. He’d called to update me twice. After what I said to him a few minutes ago, I didn’t expect him to call again—unless he found Danny. Then they could come home together.
In the meantime, all I could do was curl up in a fetal position on the living room couch, one eye on the phone, the other on the front door. Danny always used the front door. I willed him to walk though it.
The phone rang.
I snatched it up. “Danny?”
“Cory.”
“Oh.”
“But I’m calling about