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Tom Bollis pulled to the side of the road behind Anne Parker’s car. He’d heard the news when he’d called in for the hourly update. Kate had stolen Anne’s car and taken the child with her. That was according to Deputy Frank. Detective Collier had clarified that Anne considered it a loan and the deputy had spooked the girl no less than three times. He empathized with the deputy; he too had scared Sheera by reaching for her. He hadn’t, however, been stupid enough to go after her. Twice. That took ‘some kind of special’, his mother’s expression for particularly dimwitted behavior. The memory of it tugged at the string that bound his grief over her death. But only for a moment. Mom had also preached paying attention and learning from mistakes. It didn’t take a genius to see the pattern; if Sheera felt threatened, real or not, Kate rescued, rational or not. No ma’am, thought Tom. He would not trigger another fright and flight.
Tom climbed out of his truck and closed the door. He waited a moment by his truck, hoping Kate had heard him, but if she had, she wasn’t letting on. He walked in a wide arc around the car noticing that the driver’s seat had been slid into the rearmost position, the doors were locked, and all four windows were cracked open an inch or so. Sun poured through the windshield soaking the lower half of Kate’s face, her neck and shoulders. Her eyes were closed, checks flushed, and the edges of her hair were damp with sweat. The rest of her body was buried beneath Sheera, still in her life jacket, asleep in her lap.
“Kate, it’s me, Tom.” His voice was gentle, calm.
Kate raised a finger to her lips and slowly opened her eyes. She mouthed the word ‘napping’ and closed her eyes again.
“Kate,” said Tom slightly more forcefully. “You’re overheating. You’ll get dehydrated. It’s not safe.”
Kate opened her eyes and with a look half imploring, half defeated, mouthed ‘please’.
Tom shrugged an apology. “Napping in hot cars is not safe. Dozens of kids die of it every year.”
Kate sighed. She really did not want to wake up Sheera, not after finally getting her settled. “Tom.” She spoke his name quietly enough that Tom had to come alongside the car to hear her. “It’s fall. The windows are cracked.”
His voice equally soft Tom pressed his case. “You’re sweating. With that life jacket on, Sheera will be even hotter.”
“I’ll have to turn the car on to lower the windows.”
“Is a nap really worth the risk of heat stroke?”
Kate sighed again. “Guilt tactics. Nice. How about this? I’ll lower the windows and you’ll go away.”
That was the second time he’d been dismissed by this woman. Only now she didn’t even have the good graces to blush. Tom did not respond.
Kate sighed again. She struggled to lean forward far enough over Sheera and her life jacket to turn the keys in the ignition and start the car. Sheera started to stir and whimper as Kate lowered all the windows as far as they would go. When Kate reached a second time to turn off the car, Sheera’s eyes startled open.
“Sh, Sh,” cooed Kate, hoping to settle her back to sleep. When that didn’t immediately work, she played her trump card. “Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling, Clementine” sang Kate.
Sheera’s eyes turned glassy. By the time Kate got to “dreadful sorrows”, Sheera’s lids had nearly closed. Kate sang another round and watched through the side view mirror as Tom returned to his truck. Although relieved he was leaving, she worried the start of his engine would rouse Sheera. She sang a third round and watched the ranger climb back out of his truck. He returned carrying something tucked under his arm and several bottled waters. She stopped singing.
“Don’t stop on my account. It’s one of my favorites,” said Tom quietly.
Kate’s head bobbed in surprise and then her expression turned dubious.
Tom smiled and shook his head. He twisted off the cap and handed Kate a bottle of water through the open window. He set the other water bottles against the windshield, shook out his Slacker Stool so the three legs locked in place, and took a seat.
“Don’t you have something better to do?” asked Kate.
“Don’t you?” Tom sat close enough to the open window that they could speak quietly enough not to disturb Sheera.
Kate turned her eyes toward the stunning view in front of her. She’d picked a beautiful spot to park. Past the southern tip of Isle au Haut, the deep blue waters of the Gulf of Maine spread wide, dotted with the buoys of lobster pots, working boats, white sails and, to the west, a trail of island hummocks. She smelled the scent of balsam and pine and shivered once from the cool breeze on her damp head and neck. “I’ve already done enough.”
“It’s been grueling. You’re tired. But they still need your help, Kate. Now more than ever.”
Tom had misunderstood her. The questioning was grueling, and she was tired, but that hardly mattered. She
had been thinking of all her mistakes: beating up Matt, hiding from Tom.
She now knew as well as he did just how badly she’d messed up.
“You knew, all along, about Nick’s son. And that it was you I heard last night. You could have called out, told me who you were.”
“I didn’t know you were there, but you’re right, I probably should have. Would you have believed me and come out of hiding?”
No, thought Kate.
“And yes,” continued Tom. “I knew it was Matt. But not that he was innocent. Not for sure. The quickest way to establish the facts was to interview you both separately and see where your stories overlapped. Your accounts nailed down the details and confirmed Matt’s innocence. Ruling out false leads saves a lot of time and focuses the inquiry.”
“So why are you here? I’ve told them everything I know,” asked Kate.
“Because you have Sheera,” said Tom.
“I don’t have Sheera.”
Tom raised an eyebrow.
“You make it sound like I kidnapped her.”
Tom remained silent.
“Oh for God’s sake,” said Kate, shaking her head. “Go on, pull out that gun of yours and arrest me. It would really make my day.”
“Hey. That’s my line. Make my day.” He’d said it just like Clint Eastwood and could tell from Kate’s sharp exhale and pursed lips that his delivery was spot on. Too bad he couldn’t keep it light. Kate had to understand the situation and what was at stake.
“You do realize that Sheera is under the sheriff’s protection. She’s demanding eyes on. And for good reason. Her assailant is still out there. At best this… excursion, it’s a distraction. We all have better things to do, Kate.”
“We just needed a little privacy. I never intended…. But then that deputy…. I’d never…”. Oh God, she’d done it again. She’d fucking fucked up again.
“Kate, I understand. But you need to understand it’s not just for her protection. They need information that only Sheera can tell them: her name, who abducted her, why. The longer this goes on, the more likely he’ll get away with it. That means they need you, Kate. They need you actively helping them. You’re the only one Sheera talks to.”
“She doesn’t talk,” said Kate reflexively. She was still reeling. All she ever did was make things worse.
“She does now.”
“What?!” exclaimed Kate, forgetting to keep her voice down.
“Kate, Kate,” whined Sheera.
Kate was speechless. Sheera was speaking, calling her name. It was huge and glorious except that she sounded exactly like she had in her nightmare, calling for her mother. Kate was happy and hopeful and devastated and terrified all at once. She ached for this child and the tears spilled down her cheeks.
Coming more fully awake, Sheera eyes found Kate’s, and her whine turned into a call of alarm. Tom stood up and quickly backed away and Kate swiped away the tears on her cheeks. Sheera twisted and squirmed in Kate’s lap, eliciting groans of protest as Kate took a knock to the chin, an elbow to ribs and a knee to bladder. Kneeling on Kate’s lap, Sheera spotted Tom through the open window. By then he stood 10 feet or more away, and, holding the stool in one hand, had is arms raised as if a gun were pointed at him.
“Kate,” said Sheera again.
“I know, I know. It’s okay. He’s just checking on us,” said Kate. “Really, it’s okay.” She turned Sheera’s head and kissed her forehead. Running her fingers through Sheera’s hair, wet at the scalp, she tasted the salt from the kiss. “You must be thirsty. He brought us some water. See? In the window?”
As Sheera clambered around to grab a bottle, Kate called out ‘d’oh’ and ‘oof’ like exclamations in a comic strip. Bottle in hand, Sheera settled, Kate untwisted the cap for her, and Tom slowly lowered his arms and took a seat.
Okay, this was good, thought Tom. Panic was forestalled and Kate understood what needed to happen. He relaxed into his Slacker Stool and studiously avoided making eye contact with Sheera. Instead he studied Kate. In profile her face was sharp with angles and points. He hadn’t noticed before and it didn’t match her voice which was soft and full. She sang beautifully. Clementine. He’d first heard the song working on California’s National Historic Trail. He’d immersed himself in the history of the gold rush, researched primary sources, even tracked down modern recordings of the old folk songs. There was an album, he could see it, a man on the cover. The name would come to him. Not exactly Billboard’s Top 40. He wondered how Kate knew it.
Sheera sat, the shoulders of the life jacket pushed up to her ears, and continued her careful observation of Tom between deep gulps of water.
“Hey you,” said Kate, giving her a wiggle. “You said my name. That makes me so happy.”
“Kate. Kate, Kate, Kate” lilted Sheera, still looking at Tom.
“No, that’s Tom. I’m Kate.” It earned her a snort from Sheera.
“He’s Tom. I’m Kate. And you’re…”. Kate waited, hoping Sheera would fill in the blank. Instead, without looking away from Tom, she raised her small fist. Kate understood. They did their special Princess of Power fist bump. “It’s okay. Whenever you’re ready. But we do have to go back to Anne’s.”
That got Sheera’s attention. “Kate,” she said, pleading with her eyes.
“Tom?” called out Kate, without breaking eye contact. “Any chance we’ll run into that deputy if we go back to Anne’s house?”
“Not if you don’t want to. I’ll call it in and let them know.”
“Which way should I go?”
“Six, one half dozen the other. If you keep going around the loop I won’t have to turn around.”
“We don’t need an escort.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He stood up and carried his stool back to his truck.
“You’re going to follow us anyway?” called out Kate after him.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“God, you’re annoying.”
Tom chuckled. “Don’t worry, I won’t stay. I’ve got better things to do.”
Kate rolled her eyes at Sheera. “See what I mean. So annoying. Come on, let’s get you buckled up.”
True to his word, Tom radioed ahead to warn off Frank, and followed Kate all the way to Anne’s house. Kate drove cautiously, which surprised him a little given how reckless she could be. Probably for Sheera’s sake. Just like everything she did. She’d go into battle if she had to, but this time, keeping Sheera safe required nothing more than seat belts and speed limits. There was a logic to Kate, single minded and selfless, that made her predictably unpredictable. Or maybe rationally irrational. Like a moth to flame? Although he’d read somewhere that moths weren’t so much attracted to flame as confused by…. Shit!
Tom almost plowed into the rear of the Subaru as Kate slowed to turn into Anne’s driveway. He swerved and hit the brakes, spraying gravel as he skidded halfway off the side of the road. He sat for a moment while adrenalin flowed through his system. He shook his head. That took ‘some kind of special’. By the time he’d reversed his truck back onto pavement, he had an audience on Anne’s porch. Red with embarrassment he put the truck in drive and resumed his course into town at a snail’s pace. Kate had emerged from the car and, using the open door and roof top to keep her balance, watched as Tom passed her by. He rolled down his window, and without looking directly at her, touched his fingers to his cap. “Ma’am.”