The Last Harvest(72)

“Thank God. Thank God you’re okay,” I say as I hold her, rocking her back and forth. I can count the number of times I’ve cried on one hand, but just the sight of her brings everything to the surface. If something happened to her, I’d never be able to forgive myself.

“Sorry,” she murmurs. “I fell asleep on the job.”

“I’m sorry,” I manage to choke out. “It won’t happen again.”

“Is it okay if we call it a night? I’m cold.”

“Yeah, it’s more than okay.” I push her hair back from her face so I can get a good look at her.

She wants to walk, but I insist on carrying her back through the wheat. She feels so small in my arms. She’s so smart, such an old soul, that I think I forget how young she is sometimes.

By the time we get to the house, she’s almost asleep again; she can hardly keep her eyes open.

I don’t even bother getting her washed up. I just tuck her in, clothes and all. “Goodnight, fairy princess Tate,” I say as I pry the wand from her hand.

“Jess is tucked in, too,” Noodle says as she closes her eyes and nuzzles into her pillow. “In a bed of moss just like a woodland fairy princess…” Her voice trails off and she’s asleep.

I sit there thinking about all the things that could’ve happened to her out there and I can barely hold it together. There are two other people in this house and no one noticed she was missing all afternoon … all night. I know I said I’d give Jess time, but I can’t do this by myself anymore. I need help.

“Jess…” I tap on her door, not wanting to wake Noodle. “We need to talk.”

No response.

“I know you’re in there. I can hear you breathing.”

Nothing.

“Look … I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

I go to pound on her door, when it swings wide open, a gust of cold air rushing over me. The window’s open, her lace curtains blowing in and out … like breath.

And no Jess.

As I step inside the room to close the window, I bash into plates of untouched food. That wretched doll is lying in the middle of the floor, wearing some kind of schoolgirl outfit. “Damn it, Jess!” I kick the doll across the room.

I think of Lee with that pack of condoms and my blood turns to venom. Is that how he’s getting back at me? She doesn’t even know he’s her half brother. I feel sick to my stomach. I want to go out to the trailer park and drag her ass back here, but I know if I see Lee, I’ll kill him. That’s a fact.

I tear downstairs to the phone in the kitchen and start dialing Miss Granger, but she’s on her way to All Saints right now and I don’t want anything interfering with that. The only other person I can think of is Sheriff Ely. Despite our differences, he’s a friend of the family. He cares about Jess. He’s the only person in this town who had the decency to tell me what’s going on right under my nose. He can probably track her down quicker than anyone.

I dial his number.

“Sheriff? It’s Clay Tate.”

“Are you ready to talk now?” he replies.

“No. It’s not that.” I keep my voice low, even though I know Mom’s gone to the world right now. “It’s Jess.” I swallow hard. “You were right. She’s not here. I think she might’ve run off with the Wiggins kid.”

There’s a long pause. I hear Greg Tilford running his mouth in the background.

“Tell you what?” Sheriff comes back on the line. “Why don’t I come on over and get the details.”

I crane my neck to peek in the living room. “It’s really not a good time.”

“This is Jess we’re talking about.”

“You’re right.” I grit my teeth. “Just make it quick.”

*

I DO some dishes. Straighten up the best I can. I try to get Mom to move upstairs, but she refuses to leave the couch.

I sit down next to her and take her hand, but it’s completely limp. I wonder if she even knows I’m here. “Jess ran off, but we’re going to find her, bring her back.”

She doesn’t even blink. She just peers over my shoulder, her eyes fixed on the wall … on the flies.

“Jesus.” I exhale as I follow her gaze. The wall’s more black than white now. There must be a hundred of them. I know they’re just flies, but it gives me the creeps. I don’t have time to deal with this right now.

“Just don’t talk about the flies … or God. Just keep it together for a couple more days … that’s all I’m asking.”

She blinks once and I take it as a yes.

Turning off the lights, I leave her to the dark.

*

WHEN I hear a car coming down the drive, I start going over everything I need to say, but when I hear more than one set of boots on the drive, all of that goes out the window. I swing open the front door, watching Sheriff and Tilford walk up the steps.

“Evening, Clay.” Ely tips his hat. “You know Greg Tilford.”

“Deputy Tilford,” Greg adds.

Sheriff shoots him a withering look.

“We just need to ask you a few questions.”

My heart picks up speed. Why would they both come out here for this? “Is something wrong? Is Jess in some kind of trouble?”