want my daughter to love me enough to come home for Christmas when she’s an adult.”
“Goddamn it, Sonja,” he growled.
“We’ll be fine without you.”
Call ended.
Of course they would be. He loved his daughter, even as he knew she’d been slipping away from him since the divorce. But being one of two partners in a venture-capital firm meant demands that were never-ending. Who’d put Molly through college, if not him? Certainly not Sonja, who lived on her settlement from him. The settlement she wouldn’t get if he crashed and burned.
Traffic opened up enough for him to merge onto I-5 for the short distance into downtown Seattle. By then he’d already taken the next call, obliging him to accept a no answer with outward amiability. But he and this guy would do business together again, so he ignored another incoming call to chat about the investor’s son, excited about starting at Stanford this fall. Molly was ten years away from making any college decisions, thank God. Long practice let him think furiously as he talked.
What was his next best possibility? Stu Gribbin? He tended to like start-ups better than on-the-ground manufacturing, but it was worth a try.
Exiting from the freeway onto crowded streets hemmed in by tall buildings, Nate decided to wait to make the next call until he reached his office. He’d long since jettisoned his daughter’s summer day camp field trip from his mind.
* * *
HONESTLY, THIS WASN’T the most exciting outing the camp director could have planned, but Melissa might have chosen the park without actually having visited it.
Anna Grainger wasn’t complaining. Lounging on the picnic table bench with Kyle while the nearly forty kids ran off an excess of energy on the extensive mowed field was fine by her. From long habit, she kept an eye on her own two children—seven-year-old Josh and four-year-old Jenna—as well as the three additional kids she’d been assigned to supervise. All were buddies of Josh’s, participating along with him in a crazy soccer game that didn’t have any boundaries or rules she could see. Jenna had gravitated toward three or four other younger children also along for the field trip because their parents had volunteered to chaperone. Jenna didn’t have a shy bone in her body.
Anna reached for her water bottle and took a drink—tepid but wet. The coolers still held unopened cans of soda and bottles of water on ice that couldn’t have entirely melted, but she felt too lazy to get up.
“Couldn’t they just have taken the kids to a local school?” her husband asked idly, not at all put out. With his hands clasped behind his head and his legs outstretched, he didn’t look any more ambitious than she felt.
“You’d think so,” she agreed. “Except Melissa did promise we’d go down to the riverbank after lunch. There’s supposed to be a trail alongside.”
“It’s after lunch,” he pointed out.
“Mmm-hmm.” Wincing as Josh and another boy collided and crashed to the ground, she kept her eye on them until they jumped up, laughing and running back into the game.
“Some of the kids are heading that way,” Kyle observed. “Is anyone paying attention?”
Anna straightened, seeing that he was right. And, no, Melissa was refereeing a dispute between several quarrelsome boys, and Kimberly, one of the young assistants, had organized three-legged races that were winding up with most of the participants collapsed on the grass, giggling. Linda—no, she’d seen her escorting two girls to the bathroom facilities, such as they were.
“Maybe a parent,” she began uncertainly.
“I don’t see that little redhead.” Kyle sat up. “The girl?”
“Molly? Her mother’s here. She’s probably with—”
But she wasn’t. Anna spotted Molly’s mother, Shana—no, Sonja, that was it—right away, sitting at another picnic table texting or playing a game on her phone, her head bent over it. Molly had been in Josh’s class last year, and a couple times Anna had chatted casually with Sonja at special events.
Already on his feet, Kyle said, “I’ll go on ahead, just to be on the safe side. I can catch any eager beavers.” He set off at a trot across the field toward the band of trees along the Snoqualmie River.
For a second, she let her gaze linger on him. Unlike a lot of the other fathers, his body remained lean and athletic. By their mid-to late-thirties, so many men had started dressing to hide some softness around their waist, or had developed frown lines on their faces. Maybe stress did that; Kyle never seemed to feel a smidgen.
Disturbed by how acid that thought had been, Anna automatically checked on her daughter and the four boys. All were well.
A whistle shrilled and, like everyone else, she turned to the camp director. “Everyone, find your group leader! Time to head for the river, but stick with your adult.”
Kids who had been spread across the field, including those who had been drifting toward the river trail, ran back to the adults. Just as the boys and Jenna reached her, Anna heard a woman say, “Anyone see Molly?”
She turned. Sonja was scanning the area.
“A couple of the girls went to the bathroom,” another mother said.
“No, they’re back,” someone else said.
Anna stood. “Kyle thought some kids might have started toward the river, so he went ahead.”
The whistle blew again. “Everybody, freeze!”
The kids became as still as statues, eyes wide. “Parents, is anyone from your group missing? Do you have an extra?”
Kids and parents sorted themselves out. Only one child was missing: Molly Kendrick, who, with that bright head of hair, would have stood out, anyway.
Hyperventilating, Sonja cried, “But I was watching! I just...”
Just let her attention stray. Which almost any parent did on occasion, although this was a poor time and place to take her eyes off not only her daughter, but also the other three children she was supposed to supervise.
Skin tight beside her eyes, the middle-aged director, a wiry, energetic woman, said, “Anna, can you take my group, too, while I make sure your husband has found Molly?”
“You bet.” Smiling, she collected the additional three girls and said, “Okay, let’s start that way, but stay together.”
Melissa jogged ahead, disappearing into the trail through the trees. The rest of them followed in a clump.
Where was Kyle? If he’d located Molly, Anna thought he’d have ushered her back to join the group. On a tinge of fear, Anna glanced over her shoulder at the parking lot. Could Molly have wandered that way? Been lured into a car? The river wasn’t the only frightening possibility.
Seeing that Jenna was lagging, Anna said, “How about a piggyback ride, kiddo?”
“I’m tired.” She still napped and, really, had held out well today, considering.
Anna
