Kara Lennox - A Second Chance

If not for Zara, she wasn’t sure how she would have survived that period of her life. She wouldn’t put herself through it again.

AT THREE-TWENTY, Loretta got a call from Della Roy, the school bus driver. “Loretta, I just wanted to let you know that Zara didn’t get on the bus today.”

“What? Oh, shoot, not again.” This wasn’t the first time Zara had missed the bus. It wasn’t her day for Girl Explorers, but maybe she’d gotten involved in a game after school. “Thanks, Della, I’ll have to go track her down, I guess.” She hated to close the bakery when she had a steady stream of customers coming in, but she couldn’t let her child run wild over the countryside with no supervision.

It didn’t occur to her to be worried.

But when she arrived at the school, no one there had seen Zara or had any idea where she might be. Mrs. Brainard, who was still in her classroom straightening up, said there’d been no trouble from Zara that day, though she’d been more quiet than usual.

“Maybe she went home with a friend,” Loretta said as a small bubble of anxiety floated up from her subconscious. “Sometimes she forgets to ask permission.” Or maybe she got permission and Loretta had completely forgotten about it, like the day Zara had ridden her bike to the B and B, ostensibly to catch crawfish. She racked her brain, but couldn’t remember arranging any play dates for today.

Then a thought occurred to her. Could she have gone to the B and B to see Luc? Knowing Zara, she would ask him point-blank to give her an accounting of his criminal record. But La Petite Maison was too far to walk easily from school. She might have gotten a ride from someone, though.

The more she thought about it, the more likely that scenario was, although if the mother of one of Zara’s friends had given her a lift, surely the woman would have made Zara phone home to tell Loretta. She would have to drive over to Luc’s and check.

She got in her car and drove to the other side of town, her stomach in knots. She wouldn’t panic about Zara. Her daughter had missed the bus before and there was always a reasonable explanation, at least to Zara’s way of thinking.

When she pulled into the drive, she saw that Luc’s Tahoe was in the carport. She walked to the front door and rang the bell. Slipping in the kitchen door seemed too casual under the circumstances.

Celeste answered, her face neutral. “Loretta. What brings you here?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but Zara is missing, and I wondered if she’d by chance come here after school.”

“Missing?” Celeste’s face immediately softened into an expression of concern. “ Mon Dieu, no, I haven’t seen her. Luc is down by the dock working on the boat, if you’d like to ask him.”

“Yes, I’ll do that.” Maybe Zara had seen Luc and wandered down to talk to him. Loretta walked briskly along the brick path toward the bayou. She would quickly check for Zara and then leave immediately.

She saw the boat before she saw Luc. The faded canopy was gone, replaced with a bright new one sporting blue and white stripes. Now that it was clean and freshly painted, the boat was quite beautiful. She found it hard to believe this was the same filthy vessel he’d started with.

Then she saw Luc, and her breath caught in her throat. He was behind the boat, wearing a pair of waders and up to his knees in swamp muck as he worked to scrape the Bitchin’ Mama decal off the stern. Although it wasn’t particularly warm today, he’d taken off his shirt. His muscles flexed as he wielded the scraper, and his hair gleamed gold in the afternoon sun.

“Luc?”

He turned, startled. “Loretta.” He didn’t smile a greeting, but why would he? After she’d repeatedly hung up on him and erased his messages without listening to them, he didn’t even owe her common courtesy.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but have you seen Zara?”

“No. But you might ask Celeste-”

“I already did.”

“Is she missing?”

“She wasn’t on the bus, but it’s no big deal. She probably went off with a friend and forgot to tell me.” She tried not to sound terribly concerned, but the anxiety in her voice betrayed her.

He laid down his tools and came out of the water to stand on the muddy bank. “It must be a big deal, or you wouldn’t have come this close to me.”

He had her there. “Zara and I argued last night-about you. She’s just a little girl, she doesn’t understand. I thought she might have come here looking for better answers than the ones I’ve been giving her.”

“I haven’t seen her. But I’ll help you look for her.”

“That’s not necessary,” Loretta said quickly, but he was already peeling off the waders. “I’m sure she’ll turn up soon.”

“In which case I’ll be very relieved and feel silly for worrying. But I’m going to look for her, anyway.”

He obviously wasn’t concerned whether she wanted him to search or not. She had to admire the way he’d dropped everything to help. It had nothing to do with trying to get back in her good graces, either. He was worried.

He shoved his arms into the sleeves of his denim workshirt as he walked. “Have you called her friends?”

“Not yet. I’ll go back home and see if she’s there. If not, I’ll get out the school directory and start calling.”

“I’ll drive around town, then. If she’s playing outside somewhere, I’ll spot her. What was she wearing?”

Loretta had to think for a moment. “Blue jeans. Red-and-blue striped sweater. White sneakers. Try the park, and the general store. Oh, and the diner. Call me on my cell if you find her.”

“You’ll do likewise?”

“Yes. I’ll let you know.”

Luc stepped inside the house to tell Celeste what he was doing. By the time Loretta got her station wagon started, he was already striding toward his car, keys in hand, a very determined look on his face.

God help her, but she was happy to have him on her side. Only a man of character would drop everything to look for an AWOL nine-year-old. But men of character didn’t go out and get themselves arrested for felonies. It just didn’t make sense.

LUC PICTURED the map of Indigo in his head and worked his way methodically along the streets, looking for a flash of red. He stopped at the park and asked a group of older kids playing soccer if they’d seen her, but no one had. He checked the general store to see if she’d stopped in to buy candy or soda, but again, no one had seen her. Nor had she dropped into the Blue Moon Diner for a piece of pie.

He kept looking, hoping his phone would ring and Loretta would let him know that Zara was home safe and sound, that he’d panicked for nothing. But the phone remained frighteningly silent.

The town of Indigo was pretty small, so Luc covered all the streets in a very short time. He ventured farther out, onto the back roads. All the while, terrible images played in his head-accidents, kidnappings, drownings.

As it was getting dark, he headed back to town. His intention was to stop by the bakery and find out what else he could do to help.

But as he neared the center of town, he saw the flashing blue-and-red lights of a squad car-Alain’s car-and his heart almost stopped beating altogether. This wasn’t good.

He pulled in behind the squad car and got out. Alain and a couple of other men were searching around the opera house with flashlights.

“Alain,” Luc called.

Indigo’s police chief turned to him. “Luc. You haven’t seen Zara Castille, have you?”

Luc’s heart sank. “No. Why are you focusing here?”

“Take a look.” He shone his flashlight against the side wall of the opera house. Someone had grafittied the native stone with red paint, and the perpetrator hadn’t gone out of her way to conceal her identity, either. The wall now boldly advertised, ZARA CASTILLE WAS HERE.