Looking for Miracles (7 page)

Mike knew how he felt. There had been plenty of times in his life where he felt the same way. Were other people satisfied with the attention they got? Was that feeling of yearning for that mental
pat on the head something unique to him and Dogg? Surely not.

As he thought, Mike watched Dogg. His ears perked up even more, and he slipped from under Tyler’s hand, heading to the front hall. When he got about halfway to the door, the bell rang.

Mike got up to answer it before the noise of barking and company in the hall could wake up everyone. Carrie stood in the doorway with a paper bag in her hands and a troubled expression.

“Hey. What’s up?” Something was wrong. Carrie wasn’t that serious unless she was on a call, normally.

She came in and Mike closed the door, shutting out the cold air behind her. Dogg pushed his pointed nose into the underside of her arm, and she let go of the paper bag with one hand to pet him.

“I’m not sure. Help me out with something. Maybe I’m just remembering wrong.”

This sounded strange. Carrie was usually the detail person. “Go ahead.”

“Yesterday when we were at Lori’s trailer, I know you didn’t have much time to look around. But how would you describe the place?”

Mike tilted his head back, thinking. “Neat. Clean. Nothing much new, but pretty tidy, especially with a kid living there.”

“Okay. That’s what I thought, too. Somebody tossed the place since we’ve been there.”

Great. So much for Christmas winding down quietly. “Anything missing? I don’t remember much worth taking in there.”

“Me, neither. But what was there had been looked through. Drawers dumped on the bed and floor, even in the kid’s room. Kitchen cabinets all open and stuff shoved around. Whoever did it was quick. There wasn’t a lot of vandalism.”

“That’s a plus. It means it probably wasn’t teenagers out to impress each other.”

Carrie nodded. “Nothing broken, no spray paint tagging on the walls. But Lori definitely had company. I hate to be the one to tell her. I mean, doesn’t she have enough to deal with already?”

“You’d think.” She’d handle this in stride, like everything else. Probably even find some good news in it, like she had everything else. He’d never met anybody else who spent as much time looking for miracles.

Of course she seemed to find them every time, so who was the oddball? Maybe if he looked for more of them, they’d pop up in his life. Right. And maybe Dogg would grow antlers. “Come on back and we’ll tell her. She’s going to have to go out there to see if anything’s missing.”

“I know. That’s the part I hate, dragging her
over there like this. But I won’t feel comfortable unless we make a police report.” Carrie grimaced. “They’re going to love being called out today, too. It’s just my lucky day all around.”

“Don’t say that in front of Lori. She’ll find a reason why it really is.”

“Say what in front of me?” Lori’s pale blond head rose out of the chair, and she passed the back of one hand across her face in a gesture that nearly broke Mike’s heart in its simplicity and innocence.

“That it’s Carrie’s lucky day. And before you start agreeing, let her tell you why it isn’t.” Her eyes widened and she sat back in the chair. Mike felt like he’d slapped a puppy, given her reaction, but he wasn’t in the mood for any chipper stuff right now. This was serious business for once, and needed to be attended to in a serious way. Then why did he feel so bad? Merry Christmas to all, for sure.

Lori looked at the outside of the trailer. This had been home for over a year. Had it always looked this awful? Somehow she didn’t remember it being that banged up or dingy. Maybe just being away from it for a couple of days gave her a new perspective. If so, it wasn’t a particularly attractive one.

The concrete block steps up to the door looked
less sturdy than usual. How had she gotten up and down those things the last few weeks? God only knew. Thank heavens she’d had His help and protection. Who knows what would have happened if the robbers, or whoever, had broken in while she and Tyler were there.

“Was the door locked when you got here?” Lori asked. Carrie put her hand on the smooth metal.

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. It took me a while fiddling with the key to get the door to open. But you said it stuck, so I couldn’t tell whether I was locking and then unlocking it, or what.”

“I always had trouble with that myself. Gary said it didn’t matter because we didn’t have anything worth stealing. I was more concerned about Tyler getting out at night and going for some big adventure.” She shivered at the thought.

Mike was there beside her, a large, steadying arm around her. It felt so good. “You sure you’re up to this? Let me at least take the baby.” He shifted Mikayla and the infant seat from Lori’s hand without disturbing the blanket or the sleeping baby under it. In his hands it looked like such a tiny parcel.

Lori didn’t complain. The baby and the seat were heavy, and she knew Mike would be careful with her precious cargo. Already she trusted him, probably more than she should. Still, there were so many things that told her that he had a good heart.
“I have to be. Nobody else could tell you if there’s something missing.” She pushed off his concern and went into the mobile home. At least the lamp in the living room wasn’t broken, and the bulb still worked when she turned the switch.

After standing in the dim light taking everything in, Lori almost wished she hadn’t turned on the lamp. Anybody seeing the living room or the kitchen would think she was a terrible housekeeper.

Nothing was in its place. Couch cushions sagged onto the floor. What few magazines had been on the rickety coffee table were torn and scattered. The stacked plastic crates in the corner that held her books and Tyler’s toys were in a jumbled heap.

“The kitchen isn’t as bad as it could be.” Carrie sounded hopeful. It was good of her to try and cheer her up. Lori tried to manage a weak smile. She could feel her lip trembling. Wonderful. Now was not the time to cry. If she’d kept it together during the rest of this crazy, awful day surely she could do it now.

“Let’s go see.” Her voice sounded firmer than she expected.
Thanks, Lord, for small favors
. In the end, weren’t they the kind that mattered most? Those little gifts and blessings that kept you going from moment to moment? And there had been so many of those today and yesterday. Maybe this would be another one somehow.

Hey, God could do anything. Surely the same Being who gave away His only son could be trusted to smooth out her pitiful little problems. Lori took a deep breath and went into the kitchen.

Carrie was right. It could have been worse. None of the dishes were broken, and the few staples on hand had been searched, but not doused with paint or syrup or anything awful. Of course there was precious little to douse in the first place, and the dishes were that hard stuff that was supposed to resist elephants sitting on it. With a five-year-old helping with dishes, that was the only kind that lasted anyway.

“There’s nothing missing that I can see in either room.” The secondhand TV, a thirteen-inch that just barely pulled in cartoons for Tyler on good days, looked untouched. The boom-box-style radio that she carted from room to room to play his few tapes and listen to the two radio stations she could pull in was still on the kitchen countertop. The tape compartment gaped open, but she might have left it that way herself in the haste to lie down when she went into labor.

Yesterday? Surely that was a lifetime ago. Lori wondered at the changes in thirty-six hours. “Let’s look in the bedrooms. Maybe I can do that sitting down.”

Mike was at her elbow again. He set down the
infant seat softly on the floor, freeing both hands. “Do you need me to carry you? You’re not dizzy or anything?”

“No, everything’s just catching up with me. If I could walk to the truck yesterday, I can surely walk around my own house today.” Besides, it wouldn’t be a good idea to have Mike pick her up. That would definitely distract her from the business at hand. In his arms she would melt. And melting just wasn’t on the agenda right now.

Lori made it down the short hallway and into Tyler’s room. Every drawer of his dresser was dumped on the floor. What on earth had someone been looking for? The mattress was half off the bed and his blankets strewn about on the floor. Still, nothing was broken or torn.

Her room was much the same. The closet had gotten serious searching. Lori hoped the creep had enjoyed going through her meager possessions. Did he get a real charge out of the silly cardboard box full of memories? The three snapshots that were her wedding pictures? That crumpled envelope that held Tyler’s lock of pale blond hair from his first haircut? Whoever had been in here had pawed through it all, for sure.

The history of her life was on her bedroom floor. Lori sat down there and quietly gathered it all up. All the pieces went back into the heavy cardboard
box. As she smoothed the last crumpled piece of paper under her hands, she read it. How macabre. It was Gary’s death certificate. And how very strange. “This can’t be right,” she murmured.

“What?” Mike, ever vigilant, was down on the floor beside her. Mikayla stirred a little when he set her down this time, but settled back to sleep, one small foot kicking out under the blanket.

“See here? I didn’t see this before. It says ‘cause of death: undetermined.’ But the officers were very plain about what killed him. They said he ran off the road, the car went into that pond and he drowned.”

She looked over at Carrie. “Yesterday I heard something in the E.R. Something about Gary and illegal drugs. Do you think this ‘unknown’ business could be related to that?”

“I can check on that later if you like. And I’m sorry you heard something like that in any case. But for now we have to get back to what’s happening in the trailer.” Carrie sounded impatient. “But is there anything missing or broken?”

“Nothing I can see. But I think I want to take this box with me when we go back…to Mike’s.” She almost said
back home
. Funny how this trailer didn’t feel like home in any way. Maybe it never had. It was sort of a way station, like a bus terminal waiting room. “Should we call the police?”

Carrie looked at Mike. He shrugged. “Your call. Somebody’s been here, for sure. But the lady says nothing is missing, and nothing has been damaged. Whoever is watch commander is going to be really ticked about bringing somebody out on a holiday for a report that isn’t going to go anywhere.”

Lori roused herself from thought, still sitting on the floor. “Let’s just lock up and go back to Mike’s. We can call the police from there tomorrow. We don’t need to ruin anybody’s Christmas over this.”

“Anybody else’s, at least.” One corner of his mouth turned up. It made Mike look even more boyish and even more appealing, if that was possible. “It probably did a good job on yours.”

“Not really. Like we said, nothing is gone or broken. And I don’t have a clue what they were looking for. They left me the few things of value.” She lifted the box. “I could replace those awful kitchen dishes at a garage sale, but nobody else has a lock of Tyler’s hair.”

Mike shook his head. He looked like Dogg worrying a bone. “Lady, you are incredible. Let’s get you back to the house before you run out of steam.”

“More importantly, let’s get back before this baby wakes up. She has to be changed and fed
again soon, and it would be a lot easier at your house than on the road in Carrie’s SUV.”

“Now that’s being practical.” Mike stood up and hefted the infant seat with one hand. He held out the other one to Lori. “Let’s go.”

His outstretched hand with its long fingers looked like a lifeline. She took it and let him help her off the floor. His hand was incredibly warm and the strength that flowed from him engulfed her. This would be so easy. Just to let somebody else take over, do the hard stuff for a while. Especially if that someone was Mike.

No, she still had to be strong. To keep it together, and let God do the managing for her, not some other human being. Or did she? What if Mike is just managing things for God? It was a new thought. Maybe Mikayla Hope wasn’t the only miracle here after all.

Maybe God had sent her a trio of guardian angels. Gloria seemed perfectly happy when they left her to haul games out of the basement and play with Tyler while they were gone. That was a gift in itself.

Lori stifled a giggle. It was too much. Thinking about Mike this way, sprouting a halo and wings, was hard enough. But the image that came to mind of a matching set of equipment on Dogg did the trick.

Then Mike cocked his head in puzzlement, much like his canine buddy probably did. That brought on the laughter in earnest. “Yes, let’s get going. I think I’m getting a little goofy.”

A
little
goofy? Mike didn’t say a word, but the look he exchanged with Carrie said it all for him. He obviously thought she’d gone around the bend. Lori let go of his hand and followed him out of the trailer.

This time she was sure they turned off the light and locked the door. If there was any more tampering with the place after this, she would know.

Chapter Seven

M
ike stood in his mom’s guest room, kicking himself again. Where was this baby going to sleep? How could neither he nor Gloria anticipate that they needed a crib or a bassinet? Him, he could understand. Mikayla was the first baby he’d ever been this close to. It was natural that he wouldn’t know what they’d need. But why hadn’t his mom thought of this?

Lori picked up on it immediately. “Now what’s the matter?”

He shrugged. “No crib. I don’t know what I thought you were going to do with the baby. Put her in your pouch like a kangaroo, I guess. She can’t sleep in that thing all night.” He motioned toward the infant seat Mikayla still occupied. She’d
fallen asleep on the ride home from the trailer, and slept peacefully. At least she was unaware of the lack of preparation that had been made for her.

“She could if she needed to.” Lori looked around the room. “What do you think I was going to do with her back there? Did you see a crib?”