up a cue from her voice for he quickly went on to say, “Of course, and please don’t let me discourage you. Just want to remind you that things may be a bit rough up there—the camp hasn’t been used for a number of years.”
The urge to speed into the mountains was starting to wane. “Well, if things are too bad I can always head back to the city,” Kate replied. “How do I go about getting a key for the place? Or is there even such a thing?”
“Oh, yes. Apparently the place has been looked after by a couple who live in the nearest village. Now, what was the name…” There was a sound of drawers opening and papers shuffling. Then, still talking to himself, the lawyer mumbled, “Ah, here it is. Tippett. Bill and Verna. They live in Bondi, which is about ten miles from the camp. How about if I give him a call and let him know you’re coming? He’ll need to see about electricity and so on.”
“That would be great. Now, I guess I’ll have to get directions.”
“Do you have a fax machine?”
Kate smiled. “No, I’m afraid not.”
“No problem. I’ll have my secretary courier a map to you ASAP. When shall I tell Bill Tippett you’re going?”
It appeared she had to nail down the date. “I’m thinking the day after tomorrow.”
More paper noises. “Uh, that would be the twenty-fourth?”
The twenty-fourth of July. Ten days after she was supposed to meet Joanna. Kate couldn’t speak for a moment. If things had turned out differently, perhaps she and Joanna would have been making the trip to Limberlost together. And Carla might have had a chance to meet her and…. She closed her eyes.
“Miss Reilly?”
She took a deep breath and said, “Yes, the twenty-fourth.”
“Righto. If there’s a problem with Tippett getting the place ready, I’ll get back to you.”
“Please tell him I don’t expect miracles. I’m quite prepared to rough it.”
“I’m sure there won’t be any miracles, Miss Reilly.” He laughed. “When you get back to New York, let me know if I can help you with the property in any way. Whatever you decide.”
“Yes, I’ll do that. Thanks, Mr. Collier.”
His voice boomed across the line. “Only too happy to help out.”
As Kate put the phone down, she couldn’t help but think of a hungry shark streaking through a school of fish. She’d heard too many lawyer jokes, she told herself. Still, was it her imagination or had the man really been trying to put her off visiting Limberlost? Kate shrugged. What did it matter, as long as she and Carla had a chance to get out of the city? Now all she had to do was get permission for the girl to come with her.
Easier said than done. It seemed to Kate that she’d been dealing with bureaucracy all her life—filling out forms to go to camp, to go on school trips outside the city, to get braces on her teeth. Growing up a ward of the courts had meant a lifetime of dealing with committees and agencies rather than individuals. The years after Joanna had been relatively stable, but only because Kate had decided that cooperating with her foster parents was more likely to lead to the goals she’d set for herself.
So she knew exactly how to phrase her request to Kim, Carla’s caseworker. The woman was fair and would realize the break from routine would benefit Carla. Still, Kim said she wouldn’t be able to get back with an official okay until late afternoon the next day. Kate decided to book a rental car for the twenty-fourth on the assumption that Carla’s permission would be given.
Everything was proceeding well until Rita called early the next morning while Kate was finishing her first cup of coffee in bed.
“Carla’s taken off,” she said.
Kate sagged against the headboard. “What?”
Rita gave a loud sigh. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, but she left in a huff right after breakfast. When I reminded her she’d have to do laundry for your trip north, she said she probably wouldn’t be allowed to go and what was the point. Then just as she walked out the door, she hollered back that maybe she didn’t want to go, anyway.”
“She’s just setting things up so she won’t be disappointed if it doesn’t work out. But it’s going to. Kim seemed very supportive. You haven’t spoken to her about it, have you?”
“Kim? No, I thought I should talk to you first.”
“Do me a favor, then, Rita? Wait until I get back to you. I’m going to have a talk with Carla. Where does she usually hang out with her friends?”
“They could be a couple of places. Either at the basketball hoops at the school playground or at the parkette at Vine and Broadview. It’s about two subway stops south of our place.”
“Right. Is that near where her friend Toni lives?”
“You know about Toni, eh? She’s bad news, that one.”
As soon as Kate hung up, she dashed into the shower and dressed in cutoffs, T-shirt and sneakers. Rather than take a fanny pack or wallet, she shoved her subway pass and a twenty-dollar bill deep into her shorts pocket. Then she searched in the bottom of her closet for her baseball cap and pulled it down over her hair, tucking the side tendrils back behind her ears and under the cap. She looked about seventeen, which was fine with her. As long as she eliminated her schoolteacher persona. She had a feeling that wouldn’t carry much weight with Toni and her gang.
Soon after, Kate arrived at the Brooklyn neighborhood where Carla and her friends hung out. They weren’t at the basketball court. Okay, she thought. On to the parkette. She didn’t want to think about what she’d do if Carla wasn’t there.
But she was. Coming up from the subway exit, Kate spotted a group of kids across the street. She paused at the top of the stairs, watching them. The parkette was merely a slightly bigger-than-room-size piece of sunburned grass a few yards from the intersection. A scattering of benches were chained to concrete posts, and there was a rusting combo of swings and teeter-totters around which a handful of mothers, shoulders drooping from the pull of plastic shopping bags, chatted as they watched their children shuffle from one swing or slide to another. It was only after ten, but already the heat was sucking energy from everyone, injecting them with a listless apathy. Except for the knot of teenagers who’d taken over the best benches—the ones in the shade at the edge of the sidewalk.
The large-framed girl standing, arms on hips, in the middle of the sidewalk was the focal point. The others around her were laughing at her impersonation of a suited executive type who’d just strode past them, cell phone clenched to his ear as he gesticulated with his free hand. The girl was good, Kate had to admit, watching her mincing mimicry of the man’s walk as he signaled his reactions to the phone conversation to the world at large. Then another passerby appeared.
Just a kid, but seriously obese. Laden with two bulky shopping bags, he waddled out of the corner fruit-and-vegetable store and headed their way. He was wearing shorts that ballooned out from his thick legs and a crumpled, wide-brimmed sun hat that might have sheltered an elderly woman’s head thirty years ago. Kate licked her dry lips, waiting for the gang to notice him.
Suddenly there was a flurry of elbow-poking
