Where the Forest Meets the Stars(44)

“No. I don’t know where she lives, and she won’t tell me.”
The deputy looked at Gabe.
“That’s my friend. He lives next door,” Jo said.
“And you own this property?” he asked Jo.
“I rent it. I’m doing research.”
“What kind of research?”
“On birds.”
“Well, someone’s got to do it,” he said, smiling to himself. He strode over to Gabe. “Have you seen the little girl?”
“I have,” he said. “She comes over to my property, too,” he added, knowing Lacey would have given the information.
“What does she want?” the deputy asked.
“She likes the animals.”
“Do you know where she is right now?”
“She’s probably around somewhere,” Gabe said.
“Is that yes or no ?” the deputy asked, looking in his eyes.
“She was here a short time ago, but she left. We don’t know where she went.”
The deputy nodded. “Do you mind if I look in the house?” he asked Jo.
The request was well beyond what Jo expected. She’d always thought the police needed a search warrant to enter a person’s house. But Gabe nodded at her, signaling that she should let him inside. “No problem,” she said, opening the porch door.
Jo and Gabe followed the deputy into the house. Fortunately, Jo had put Ursa’s clean clothing inside the dresser. But what if he looked in the drawers?
The deputy walked from room to room of the small house, scrutinizing everything. When he got to the kitchen, he pointed to Ursa’s drawing of an indigo bunting, attached with a magnet to the outside of the refrigerator. “Who did that?” he asked.
“The girl,” Jo said.
“Do you often let her inside the house?”
“I’m rarely here. Most of the day, I’m out doing research.”
“I asked if you let her in.”
“I do because I feel sorry for her. I think someone isn’t taking good care of her.”
“Does this girl have a name?”
“She calls herself Ursa Major, but I assume that’s a made-up name . . . because that’s the name of a constellation.”
“I know what it is,” the deputy said. He walked out the back door and looked around the edge of the prairie before going over to the derelict shed. Jo and Gabe stood in the front yard under the hickory tree while he searched around the outbuilding, Little Bear following him everywhere he went. “Well, I see no girl,” the deputy said. “But there’s some concern for this child, so I’d appreciate a call to the sheriff if you see her again.” He handed Jo a card with his information. “Have a good night.”
“You too,” Jo said in unison with Gabe.
They watched the deputy climb into his patrol car and drive away, Little Bear sending him off with a running flurry of barks.
When he was fully out of sight, Gabe said, “I have to go home. I’m going to kick Lacey in the ass back to Saint Louis.”
“Don’t make her mad! She’ll do something worse.”
“I won’t. But if I go home, she’ll leave.”
“That’s why she did this. I really can’t believe you’re related to that scheming woman!”
Gabe walked away. “I want to find Ursa before I go.”
Jo followed him to the back of the house. “The last time this happened, she didn’t go far. But that was at night.”
They looked around the grassy field calling Ursa’s name, but not too loud in case the deputy had stopped at the Nash cabin on his way out. Following a trail of broken stems, they came to the far edge of the field, a slope that dropped down into forest. They searched for a little while, but the sun was setting and they didn’t have a flashlight.
Standing at the back door, Gabe looked out at the darkening field. “She’s hunkered down somewhere. She’ll come back at night to make sure the sheriff’s car is gone.”
They cooked the pasta but didn’t eat much. And they didn’t cut the pie. At ten, they lit a fire in the pit behind the house to signal Ursa to come home. They sat in lawn chairs, waiting, too worried to say much. At ten thirty, Gabe said, “Either she’s lost or she’s not coming back. Which do you think?”
“She trusted me enough to come back twice before, but she’s so smart, it’s hard to believe she’s lost. She would know to follow Turkey Creek to get back here, and the moon is bright enough to see by.”
“I have a theory about that.” He stood and faced the prairie. “After she ran out the back door, she probably went straight north through the tall grass to keep the house between her and the sheriff. If she went down that slope back there, she would come to Guthrie Creek.” Pointing eastward he said, “Turkey Creek splits off around this hill. If she crossed Guthrie on her way out and came back in the dark, she might not see Turkey Creek split off. She would follow the wrong creek trying to find us.”
“You’re right. Where they split, Turkey Creek is full of vegetation. It hardly looks like a creek.”
“Did she know the lay of the land back there?”
“I don’t think she did. She stuck pretty close to the house and shed.”
He stared out at the dark field, rubbing his beard.
“I bet this reminds you of the day Lacey left you in the woods,” Jo said.
He looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected her to make that connection. “That’s exactly what I’m remembering,” he said. “Do you have a good flashlight? I want to walk down Guthrie and try to find her.”