Thomas Kinkade: The Inn at Angel Island

“Understandable,” Claire said calmly. “It is a pity, though, that he won’t give you a chance. I can see it. I can see you taking your aunt’s place here.” Claire smiled over at her. “You are so much like her, Liza. I see it more and more every day.”

Liza was deeply touched. Claire could not have given her a greater compliment.

“Thank you, Claire, for saying that… I wish I were more like my aunt. If I was, maybe I could persuade Peter to let me stay-and keep the Hardys from knocking this place down.”

Claire’s expression fell. “Is that what they plan to do?”

Liza nodded bleakly. She hadn’t meant to tell Claire this way but felt relieved now that the whole truth was out. “They want to build a new house. It’s awful, isn’t it?”

Liza heard the tremble in her voice and felt embarrassed for a moment. Then realized she hadn’t confided her true feelings about this to anyone. It felt good to talk to Claire, the one person who would completely understand.

“It is awful… but it hasn’t happened yet,” Claire pointed out. “I know it looks bleak. But if you’re meant to stay here, God will clear a path, Liza,” she promised. “Trust in Him to show you the way.” She met Liza’s gaze for a long moment, then reached over and patted Liza’s hand.

Liza took Claire’s hand in her own and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thanks, Claire. I’ll try,” she promised quietly. Before she could say anything more, Peter ran into the kitchen, his face pale.

“Have either of you seen Will? Did he come down here?”

“I haven’t seen him this morning,” Claire said.

“Me either,” Liza added. “He’s not up in his room?”

Peter swallowed hard. “No, he’s not. I knocked and knocked, and he wouldn’t answer. I thought he was just being stubborn. But when I finally walked in, his bed was empty. First I thought he was taking a shower. Or maybe he had gone up to the attic for some reason…” Peter took a breath. “When I went back to his room, I realized that some of his stuff is gone. His down jacket, his pack, his shoes… I looked in all the rooms upstairs. He’s gone somewhere. Without telling anyone.”

“Maybe he got up early and went down to the beach,” Liza suggested, “or walked up to the General Store. Are you sure he didn’t leave a note?”

“I looked around his room. No note. And there was nothing down here. I’m sure one of us would have seen it,” he said, glancing around the kitchen.

“I’ll go check in the foyer and the parlor. Maybe he left a note out there,” Claire said, “on the desk or something.”

“Good idea,” Liza replied. “Maybe he left a message on your cell phone,” she said to her brother. “Did you check yet?”

Peter pulled out his cell and checked the messages. “Nothing. How about you?”

Liza doubted that Will would have left a message on her phone, but you never know what kids are thinking. She checked her pockets and realized her BlackBerry was still upstairs in her room. At some point during her stay here, she had fallen out of the habit of keeping it close. She would have to tell Daniel.

“It’s upstairs, I’ll run up and check.” She ran up to her room and found her phone. No message from Will appeared on the list of new calls. She felt a pang of worry but refused to give in to it. Will hadn’t been gone very long. He probably just needed some time to himself after arguing with his dad the night before.

She walked down the hallway to the stairs, passing Will’s room on the way. She paused and peeked in. His bed was a tumble of sheets and blankets, the pillow still dented with the imprint of his head. His big sneakers, which normally took up half of the floor, were conspicuously absent, as were the parka and sweatshirt that were normally draped over an armchair. His carry-on duffel was still on the floor near the closet, with clothes spilling over onto the floor. That was a good sign, Liza thought. Maybe they were worrying for no reason. Maybe he hadn’t gone far at all.

As she headed downstairs, she took out her phone again and auto-dialed her nephew’s number. Will’s phone rang a few times, but he didn’t answer. “Will, it’s Aunt Liza. Please call me or your dad when you get this message. We don’t know where you are. It’s very important that you call us,” she said, trying not to sound too upset.

When she got to the kitchen, she saw Peter had his phone out, too, and was busily sending a text message.

“I just tried calling him,” she said. “He didn’t pick up, but I left a message.”

“I left a voice message, too. And now a text.” Peter looked up at her. “I don’t like this, Liza. I have a bad feeling.”

“Let’s not get too worried yet,” Liza said in what she hoped was a calming tone. “Will’s not a little boy. He knows how to take care of himself. He must have just gone out for a walk or something and forgotten to let us know.”

Claire returned to the kitchen. “I looked all over. I didn’t find any notes, sorry.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Peter admitted. “But thanks for your help, Claire.” He drummed his fingers on the table, then said, “You’re right, Liza. It’s too soon to panic. Let’s give him a few hours.”

Liza and Peter had breakfast, then they busied themselves around the inn, each hoping that Will would walk in at any moment.

Well before noon, Liza and Peter met up in the kitchen where Claire was starting another pot of soup. Peter looked ready to jump out of his skin. “I still haven’t heard a thing from Will,” he told Liza. “Maybe I’m overreacting, but I can’t just sit here, being patient. After that argument we had last night, who knows-”

A knock sounded on the kitchen door, and they all turned at once. But it was Daniel peeking through the glass, not Will.

Liza quickly ran over to open the door. For some reason, the mere sight of Daniel was a great relief.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” he said brightly, though his gaze was fixed on Liza. “How’s it going?”

“We have a situation,” Liza told him. “Well… we hope it’s not a situation, just a misunderstanding. Will’s gone out somewhere and he didn’t leave a note.”

“And he’s not answering our messages,” Peter added in a far more anxious tone. “He’s been gone all morning. I think I’d better go look for him. I’m getting worried.”

“He could have gone out for a walk or a bike ride,” Daniel said. “Did you check the bikes? Are any missing?”

“I should have thought of that,” Peter said. He ran out the back door and headed to the shed, with Liza, Daniel, and Claire following behind him.

“Okay, one bike is gone,” Peter reported, as he emerged from the shed. “So Will probably isn’t just taking a walk on the beach.”

“That gives us something to go on,” Daniel replied. “Why don’t we split up and look for him? It’s not a very big island. He couldn’t have gone far.”

“Unless he decided to head for the mainland,” Peter said. “For all I know, he’s on his way to Logan-”

“Let’s hope not,” Liza cut in, trying to tamp down her brother’s panic. “We ought to at least take a quick ride around before we jump to that conclusion.”

“I’ll call the gatehouse and ask if they’ve seen a boy pass on a bicycle,” Claire said. “I’ll make a few calls around to the neighbors, too. Maybe someone has seen him.”

“Good idea, Claire.” Liza followed her toward the house, knowing she needed to grab a jacket and her car keys.

“Let’s go inside a minute and look over a map, so we don’t duplicate our efforts,” Daniel suggested.

Peter nodded grimly. Liza reached out and touched his arm. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’s all right,” she said quietly.