All Good People Here(6)

“She was taken,” she said. “Somebody broke in.”

Robby shot a glance at her over his shoulder. He looked surprised but also confused, as if she couldn’t possibly mean what she was saying. After all, nothing truly bad ever happened here in Wakarusa. His eyes flicked over Jace. “Jace okay, though?”

The question was innocent enough, but it made Krissy’s breath catch. She hadn’t known what to do with Jace while they waited the agonizing minutes for the police to get there. She’d considered pretending nothing was happening, tucking him back into bed, but the thought made her skin prickle with fear. Her daughter was gone, and now Krissy was terrified to let her son out of her sight. There was a buzzing energy emanating from him like a force field. What did he think was happening?

Krissy looked Robby in the eye. “Jace is fine.”

They passed through the doorway into the kitchen, and Krissy could see the exact moment Robby registered the words on the wall and realized he’d underestimated the situation. Just like Billy’s had, his eyes widened and his mouth went slack. Krissy ducked her head, unable to look. She already knew what she’d find if she did. She glanced at Jace and saw his eyes squeezed shut, his face half buried in her robe.

Robby cleared his throat. “I think my supervisor should know about this,” he said, tugging a radio from a holster on his belt, then walking a few steps away to call it in, his voice hushed and urgent. When he turned back around, he gave Billy and Krissy the grave look she’d been waiting for. “My supervisor Barker’s gonna be here soon.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple jumping. “In the meantime, have you checked the house for January?”

Krissy wanted to scream. Did he think they were morons? But before she could answer, Billy said, “It was the first thing we did.”

Robby nodded. “Okay, okay. Huh. Well, let’s go ahead and do another sweep together, yeah? It’s possible you missed something given your…” He hesitated, looking for the right word. “State.”

Billy shot Krissy a glance that didn’t quite meet her eye, and she shrugged. “Fine.” She knew January was not in the house—it wasn’t as if she and Billy had simply missed her, as if she’d been playing some overly tenacious game of hide-and-seek—but Robby was the expert here. She wasn’t going to contradict him.

With Jace still glued to Krissy’s side, the four of them walked slowly through the downstairs, stopping in each room so Robby could open cabinets and palm pillows, as if their six-year-old daughter could possibly fit behind one. He kept asking if anything was missing and Billy and Krissy kept telling him no. When they circled back to the kitchen, where the stairs to the second floor were, Robby stuck his hands on his hips, jutting his chin toward the steps. “Do you mind if I…”

“Of course,” Billy said without hesitation.

Robby led the way, grabbing the banister hard with every step. Billy followed him and Krissy followed both, holding Jace’s hand tightly in her own. Upstairs, Robby continued his search, opening every door and cabinet with such gusto that Krissy suspected he was acting out some brave rescue scene he’d envisioned in his mind: He’d thrust open their linen closet door to find January curled in a ball, scared and lost in her own house, he the gallant hero, she the victim of nothing that couldn’t be recovered from with a little chicken soup and a warm bath, Krissy and Billy the silly, dramatic parents. She swelled with annoyance.

But when they made it to Jace’s and January’s rooms, across the hall from each other, Krissy’s heart started to pound with such ferocity it drove all other emotions out of her. She stood between the doorways, unable to look through either. These rooms were where her babies should have been but weren’t.

After Robby had finished looking under beds and flipping back blankets, they made their way downstairs again. Now, the only place left to go was the basement.

“This is where—” Billy began, gesturing to the basement door, his voice cutting out with a gulp. Krissy snapped her head to look at him. “This is where we, um, think somebody may have gotten in. There’s a broken window. You’ll see.”

Robby nodded, gripping the brass knob to open the door wide. Billy followed him down, but Krissy hesitated. Bringing Jace around the house with them was one thing, but the thought of having him down there was too much. It didn’t feel safe to have him in that basement. She led Jace by the hand to the kitchen table and perched him on one of the wooden chairs. She didn’t want to leave him here either, but her heart was racing at the idea of Robby and Billy alone in that basement. She needed to see what they were seeing. Yes, she’d already been down there during her and Billy’s search, but what if she’d missed something?

“Jace?” she said, hating the quiver in her own voice. She gripped his shoulders. “Mommy needs you to sit right here and not move for one minute, okay? I want you to close your eyes and count all the way to a hundred and then I’ll be back.”

Jace looked at her in that strangely solemn way he sometimes did, a look that made him seem much older than his six years. He nodded slowly.

“Stay here.”

The bare bulb in the basement ceiling was on, illuminating the room with a dim, flickering glow. Krissy looked around at the space, which was cluttered with unlabeled boxes of stuff—Christmas decorations, clothes and toys the kids had grown out of, financial records of the farm. There was an old plaid couch and a few errant toys scattered around: a small trampoline, a plastic pole for a ring toss stacked with fat, multicolored rings. Robby was holding Jace’s Etch A Sketch, idly rotating it in his hands, his eyes on the shattered glass on the floor. One of the three small, horizontal windows, the one closest to the bottom of the stairs, had been smashed.