Missing and Endangered (Joanna Brady #19)(25)

Daddy always bought the huge marshmallows, not the medium ones or the tiny ones. These were big enough that when you stuck them between two crackers, it looked like a real sandwich. Kendall had to admit that she missed the crunchy burned crust that Daddy always left on the outside of the marshmallows, but she didn’t complain, and neither did Peter. It was something for them to eat, and by then they were both hungry.

“Put on your jammies,” Kendall ordered when they finished eating and as she stowed the remaining food in the corner of the closet. “It’s time for bed.”

“I need to go to the bathroom first,” Peter said. “I need to pee.”

“You can’t,” she said. “The door’s locked.”

That wasn’t true. Kendall was only pretending the door was locked, and she did that so Peter wouldn’t step out into the hallway and run into Randy the same way she had. As for the peeing problem? She’d created a solution for that.

“You’ll have to use the jar,” she told him.

After her encounter with Randy, Kendall had cleaned out an empty peanut-butter jar, one with a lid on it, that she kept in the closet for times when the kids needed to go to bed and there was partying going on outside their door. Unfortunately, there was no work-around for brushing their teeth.

Peter scowled. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, you have to.”

“But why? Peeing in the jar is gross.”

“Peeing in your pants is worse,” she said.

Faced with that inarguable truth, Peter heaved a heartfelt sigh and did as he was told. Had he tried the door, he would have discovered that it wasn’t locked at all, but fortunately Kendall was very good at pretending, just like earlier today when she’d had to pretend that Daddy wasn’t dead. After seeing the scene outside their bedroom window, she’d climbed down from the dresser without letting Peter look outside and without telling him the truth, either. Sometime after that—a seemingly long time—a police officer had opened the door and let them out. The whole time he was walking them over to Mrs. Kidder’s house, he hadn’t said anything about what had happened to Daddy, and neither had the other cop, the one who’d talked to them later. Since the officers hadn’t mentioned a word about Daddy being dead, neither did Kendall. She just pretended it hadn’t happened, even though it had.

Kendall also pretended that she hadn’t seen the gun. It had been lying on the front porch right next to Daddy’s hand, but she knew it wasn’t Daddy’s. He didn’t have a gun. The one on the porch was probably the one her mother usually carried around in her purse. They’d had a lesson on guns at school one day, and Kendall had come away knowing that guns shouldn’t be left lying around out in the open like that. At least that’s what her second-grade teacher, Mrs. Baird, had told them. “Guns are dangerous,” she’d said. “They need to be handled properly and shouldn’t be left in places where children have access to them.”

Kendall didn’t bother trying to repeat those words to Peter. She just did her best to make sure he never got anywhere near Mommy’s purse.

“Can we go to school tomorrow?” Peter asked once they were both in bed, lying in the dark with Kendall in the top bunk and Peter in the lower one.

Peter liked school because of the free breakfasts and free lunches. Kendall liked school because she loved her teacher. Mrs. Baird didn’t yell at people the way Mommy did. Mrs. Baird was always smiling. She said please and thank you. Mommy didn’t do any of those things.

“We can’t,” she said. “You heard what Mommy said. We have to stay home until after the funeral.”

“What’s a funeral?” Peter asked.

Kendall wasn’t exactly sure what a funeral was—something to do with dead people—something to do with Daddy. She had asked Mom when that would be—the funeral, that is—and Mom said she didn’t know, that someone else would have to tell them.

“I think it’s like a party for dead people,” Kendall answered. “Grandma Puckett is coming.”

“Will Daddy’s mommy and daddy come, too?” Peter asked.

Kendall had met Daddy’s parents only once when they came to Mommy and Daddy’s wedding. She knew that they lived far away, so they didn’t visit often.

“I don’t know,” she answered with a shrug.

But Kendall was glad they’d be having company, even if it was only Grandma Puckett. When she came to visit, there was usually a lot of yelling. Mommy didn’t seem to like her mother very much, but when she was there, the food was always better. It turns out Grandma Puckett didn’t approve of people having cold cereal for dinner. The other good thing about having Grandma visit was that Randy generally stayed away.

Peter was quiet for a long time after that. Kendall thought he had fallen asleep, but then he spoke again. “I wish Coon were here,” he said. “He always kept my feet warm.”

“I wish he was here, too,” Kendall replied.

Only when she heard Peter’s breathing steady did Kendall Hogan finally give herself permission to stop pretending and to stop being brave. Only then did she give way to the tears she’d been holding back all day because she hadn’t wanted Peter to see her crying. She wept as though her heart was broken, because it was.

Daddy and Coon were both gone, and neither of them would be coming back. Ever.