Don’t Let Me Go(47)

“I haven’t got her.”

“Don’t make jokes.”

“I’m not making jokes. I don’t have her. Last I saw her she ran out my door so she could go up to Mr. Lafferty’s — the man, not the cat — to get a litter box and food for Mr. Lafferty — the cat, not the man.”

“Maybe she’s at Felipe’s,” she said.

“I hope so,” he said, with a dawning sense that panic, rather than irritation, might be in order.

“I’ll go check.”

Billy uncharacteristically remained there in the doorway, waiting and viciously biting his nails, until she came back down again.

Rayleen shook her head. “You don’t suppose she went back to her mom?” she asked. “She was pretty upset about not coming when her mom called her.”

“No,” Billy said. “Oh, it’s not outside the realm of possibility. But it just doesn’t seem possible now. When it first happened, maybe. Or tomorrow. But she just got this new cat, and she was going to run upstairs extra-fast and get something to feed him. She’s excited about the cat. She couldn’t wait to get back to him. And she knew she only had my permission to leave the cat here for a matter of minutes. It just doesn’t work timing-wise. The whole thing just doesn’t add up.”

“OK, I’ll keep looking,” Rayleen said.

“Wait! Um. Sorry to sound like a wimp, but…” Too late, Billy thought. You’ve been sounding like a wimp all your life. But he pushed the voices away again. Such nasty bastards, as always. “Maybe the cat can stay with Felipe while we figure all this out.”

“Sorry. Felipe isn’t home.”

“Oh. Well, then maybe he does have Grace. Maybe they went someplace together.”

Rayleen shook her head, as if wishing she didn’t have to. “He was home. I talked to him. But now he’s not. I don’t want to freak you out too much—”

“Then don’t,” Billy said.

“You really don’t want to hear this?”

“Well. I guess I have to. Now.”

“OK. Here goes. There was one stranger in the building today. Mr. Lafferty’s son. He was here going through his father’s things.”

“Yeah. I overheard that. Wait. Shit. You don’t think—”

“We just can’t take any chances, that’s all. Felipe was talking to him for a while today, and the guy happened to mention where he was staying, which I’m sure he wouldn’t have done if he was up to no good. But, just to be on the safe side, Felipe is going to go down to his motel and check it out.”

“I feel sick,” Billy said.

And he meant it quite literally. Suddenly he felt flushed, feverish. Achy. The world’s fastest onset of the flu.

“Just keep breathing,” Rayleen said.

“You checked old Mrs. Hinman’s?”

“I did. There’s one possibility we haven’t discussed yet. Maybe her mom snatched her back. You know. Against her will.”

“Oh, God. I hope it’s just something like that. Not that a thing like that isn’t bad enough. Should we be calling the police?”

“I don’t see that we’re in any position to,” Rayleen said. “We’re not her legal guardians. So we call them, and they come over, and let’s say it turns out she’s at home with her mom. And we say we called them — why? Because we stole the kid, and her mom stole her back?”

“But if—”

“Don’t think I haven’t thought it through, Billy. Don’t think I haven’t run every possibility in my brain, including the ones that are very bad for her…and us. I think I’m just going to have to pound on her mom’s door and tell her Grace is missing, and if she doesn’t know where her kid is, then she better call the police.”

“Which looks very bad to her mom regarding our babysitting capabilities.”

“If she doesn’t have her. If she does, it looks bad for us if we don’t go ask. Grace disappears, and we don’t even bother to check and see if she’s home. Besides, it can’t be helped,” Rayleen said. “This is just a bad situation either way. All around. I’m going.”

Billy’s knees felt so mushy that he sank gently down on to them, on the rug close inside his doorway. He glanced over at Mr. Lafferty the Cat, just to be sure he wasn’t about to try to get out. But he’d curled up on the couch again, and was watching Billy with mild curiosity.

He heard the pounding on the basement apartment door, and each knock went through him like a gunshot.

“Ms. Ferguson?” he heard Rayleen call. “Do you have Grace? Because, if you don’t, we need to know. We need to put our differences aside to find her. I mean it. This could be serious.”

Another series of pounds.

Then Billy saw Rayleen come up the stairs again. Her face twisted with curiosity when she saw him kneeling by his door, tearing at fingernails with his teeth, though he hardly had fingernails left to tear.

“Why are you on your knees?” she asked, standing over him now.

Apparently the second part of the observation was self-explanatory.

“Long story. Can I tell it some other time?”

“So, surprise, knocking didn’t answer much,” Rayleen said. “My throat is starting to tighten up.” She took a few steps back from his doorway, defensively. “I’ll let you know when I hear back from Felipe.”