Boundary Crossed (Boundary Magic #1)(71)

“Come on, even I’m not that codependent,” I said, trying to make my voice light.

“And now that she’s dead,” he continued, like he hadn’t heard me, “you’re making your life all about remembering her. Grieving for her. It’s been almost a year, Allie.”

“That’s pretty f*cking rich, coming from you,” I retorted. “Not exactly back out on the dating scene, are you?”

He hesitated, and something congealed in my stomach. “Actually, I just started seeing someone,” he said finally.

We both went still. The song ended.

“Oh,” I said lamely.

“It’s getting late,” John said. “I should probably get Charlie home.”

I nodded, discreetly wiping under my eyes to protect my mascara. “I’ll walk with you, so I can give her a kiss.”

He started through the crowd, and I trailed after him. After only two steps, though, I felt someone’s gaze on me. I glanced up and met Quinn’s eyes. He nodded me on with his usual implacable expression; he’d heard where I was going. Which meant he’d also heard everything we’d said before that. I blushed. Whatever ground I’d gained with Quinn would be gone now. One step forward, two steps back. Story of my life.

I followed John silently through the doorway and into the east ballroom, which my mom had rented for the kids. It was like a junior version of my dad’s birthday ball. There were kid-friendly finger foods and a small set of speakers playing age-appropriate music. The room was full of laughing, screaming, running boys and girls, the descendants of all the Luther Shoes employees, and I took a second to privately admire the soundproofing that had kept this cacophony out of the main ballroom. I waved to Jake’s twelve-year-old daughter Dani, who was tucked into a corner with an iPad on her knees. Brie’s sons were there too, but they were involved in an elaborate chase game with some bigger kids, so I didn’t interrupt.

There was a cordoned-off area for the kids under age two, with a couple of small plastic slides and some baby toys tossed about. No Charlie, though. I trailed John as he headed toward the employee in the baby area, a young woman in her twenties wearing a pink polo shirt that had the words Go and Play Child Care embroidered on the back. “Hey, I’m looking for Charlotte Wheaton,” John said politely. “Is she off getting a diaper change or something?”

The girl, who had a round face, acne, and the blissful look of someone who truly loves kids, gave John a puzzled smile. “Nobody’s getting changed, but let me check the clipboard,” she said brightly, hoisting a toddler higher on her hip and leading us toward a podium that was stashed against the wall, out of the way of the gallivanting kids. There was a clipboard on top. The girl paged through it. “You signed the waiver, right?” she said absently. John confirmed that he had. “Oh, right here,” she chirped, pointing to a name on the third page. “Charlotte Wheaton, goes by Charlie? I don’t remember her, but”—her cheerful voice faltered—“um, it says she was already checked out, just a few minutes ago.”

“By who?” John demanded.

The round-faced girl looked up at him with a hesitant smile. “Um . . . her father. John Wheaton.”





Chapter 32



“I’m John Wheaton,” John said, his voice a terrible alloy of anger and fear.

The girl’s face bleached to a pale white. “I . . . I don’t know what could have happened,” she stammered. “I don’t remember seeing her. Karen?” she called, waving over one of the other two workers. “Do you recall signing out Charlotte Wheaton?”

“Eighteen months old,” John supplied.

Karen’s face was as blank as the first girl’s. Instinctively, I spun on my heel and hurried over to Dani, bending down to tug the earbuds out of her ears. “Dani, did you see someone take Charlie?” I demanded.

She blinked at me, pushing her round glasses higher on her face. “Yeah, that guy came and got her,” she said. “I was trying to help Peter get Chris down the slide, but I figured he was the babysitter . . .”

“John!” I yelled, startling him out of his heated conversation with the attendants. “I need you to get Quinn right now!”

“Who?” he said, confused and worried. “We need Elise, we gotta call the cops—”

“John,” I said, pouring as much patience into my voice as I could manage, “I can go after her, but I need Quinn right now. Please.”

He looked at me for the length of a heartbeat, then nodded, trusting me. He raced out of the room. I turned back to Dani, crouching down so our faces were level. “Honey, I need to know what he looked like.”

“Did I mess up?” Dani asked, her voice edged with fear. “Should I have gone to get Uncle John?”

I smoothed down her hair. “No, baby, you did just fine. Do you remember anything about how he looked?”

“He was like in college,” she volunteered. “Um, dark hair. I don’t remember what he was wearing but he was kind of . . . big?” She let go of the iPad and spread her arms, holding them away from her body. “Lots of muscles.”

Oh, shit. “Did he have a funny hooked nose?” I asked, miming a bump over my nose with one finger. “Like this?”