Spring Secrets: Pine Point, Book 3 (17 page)

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Miss Cruz, look!” Caleb pointed at the Silver Valley Panthers pitchers warming up in the bullpen. The boy stopped and stared. Two young men, one a head taller than the other, wound up and let the ball fly in a steady rhythm Sienna knew fascinated Caleb to no end. The catchers squatted at the opposite end of the bullpen, returning the pitches and pounding their fists into their gloves.

“Keep moving, son,” Caleb’s father said with a pat on his son’s shoulder. “We have to find our seats before the game starts.”

Sienna held Silas by one hand and Bailey by the other. Billy walked beside Caleb’s father with Dawn behind them. Every few feet, Sienna glanced over her shoulder to make sure Dawn hadn’t disappeared. The sun beat down on the back of her neck, and a bright blue sky spread above them. Beautiful weather for opening day.
S
he squeezed away her wish that Mike had come with them and relegated it to the place in her heart with other wishes, like
I wish we hadn’t fought
and
I wish I’d explained things better
and
I wish we could get past all this.
Sometimes her whole body ached with wishing.

At the front gate, Sienna wrestled Bailey’s sweaty hand from hers and dug into her purse for the tickets. Silas clutched his baseball glove in one hand, his eyes the size of saucers as he looked at the stadium.

“You excited, buddy?” she asked.

He nodded.

“Dawn, please come over here.” The girl had wandered over to a kiosk selling programs, hats, and giant foam fingers. The guy behind the counter leaned down and asked her something, but she only stared and pinched her hands together. He frowned, made a comment, and then turned away. Dawn’s face fell. Sienna walked over as the girl’s bottom lip pushed out. She wanted to tell the idiot behind the counter he didn’t have to be rude. Instead, she hugged Dawn for a half second before the girl ducked away and walked over to Caleb.

“Come on, come on,” Billy called, almost delirious with excitement. They walked inside the gate, and he pointed at the enormous red signs hanging overhead. “We’re in Row F,” he shouted, and was about to dart away before Caleb’s father plucked him by the sleeve.

“You’ve got your hands full, don’t you?” he said to Sienna.

“You have no idea.”

Together, they managed to find their seats along the first-base line—not behind home plate as Caleb had hoped, but in the third tier up. Still, they had a decent view, and if a foul ball made it this far, Silas might even have a chance at catching it. The crowd settled in around them, and soon the players trotted out for introductions.

Sienna sat on one end of the row with Caleb’s father on the other. In between, the five students sat rapt with wonder. From the opening pitch to the third out of the fourth inning, they remained silent, only cheering when the Panthers scored two runs in the third. Caleb pressed his hand against her leg every so often, leaning forward in his seat to watch each play. Silas had his glove positioned against his chest, his gaze on every foul ball. Sometime in the fifth inning, Sienna finally relaxed. She’d spent two sleepless nights worrying about taking the students out of their familiar environment. Turned out she didn’t need to. They looked like they were having the time of their lives.

This was a good idea.
The sun warmed her face, and she slipped on her sunglasses. She tried not to dwell on the fact that it had been Mike’s idea, and they wouldn’t be here at all if he hadn’t suggested it. The field, the players, the calls of strikes and balls faded.
I miss him.

“Miss Cruz?” Caleb’s father called down the row. “I’m going to take these two to the bathroom.” He motioned to the twins squirming in their seats.

“Okay, sure.”

“Want anything? Popcorn? Peanuts?”

Caleb jumped up and down. “Yes, please! Peanuts.”

“Silas has a peanut allergy, so, no,” she said as she sat him back down. “But some popcorn would be nice, thanks.”

The man nodded and directed the twins ahead of him up the stairs. Sienna leaned over to ask Dawn if she needed to use the bathroom too, but at a loud crack from the field, a roar swept over the crowd. Everyone around them leaped to their feet. A Panther had hit a grand slam, and four players made their way around the bases, pumping their fists and waving to the crowd as they crossed home plate.
Six—zero
, read the flashing neon sign behind the outfield.

“Miss Cruz, did you see that?” Caleb asked, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “A grand slam is very uncommon in a minor league game. Last year the Panthers only had two, and they were both at away games.”

“I did see it, and it was very exciting,” she answered. She slipped up her sunglasses and scanned the row. Silas bounced on his tiptoes, the glove still cradled to his chest. Billy and Bailey were climbing back down the stairs with Caleb’s father behind them. And Dawn—

Sienna’s gaze lighted on the empty seat beside Silas.
Oh God. Oh, no.
She’d looked away for thirty seconds. Not even thirty. Her entire body went cold. “Caleb, did you see Dawn leave?”

He shook his head.

“Silas? Do you know where Dawn went?”

His face furrowed for a moment, and then he turned and pointed to a sign that read “Restrooms.”

“Oh, God.” Sienna pushed her way down the row. “You boys stay right here. Don’t move.” She grabbed Caleb’s father’s arm. “Did you see Dawn up there?”

He shook his head. “She’s gone?”

Sienna nodded as panic closed her throat. “Maybe she just went to the bathroom.” She tried to push away all the horrible news stories about abducted children and predators who waited outside public restrooms for children.
This is my worst nightmare.
She stumbled up the stairs
.
A stadium filled with two thousand fans and a little girl who didn’t speak vanished among them. If anything happened to Dawn, Sienna would never forgive herself. Ever.

* * * * *

Mike parked at the far end of the lot and rolled down his window. At first, he’d thought Sienna might not take the kids to the game, but on his way to work, he’d passed the elementary school and watched them all climb into a small yellow bus. Silas held a baseball glove. Caleb wore a Yankees shirt. And against his better judgment, Mike had followed them over the mountain to the ballpark. The crowd inside the stadium erupted in cheers, and he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
Wish I could see their faces.
He pictured Caleb zeroing in on the pitchers’ strategies, Silas arching up to reach for a foul ball, the twins wriggling in their seats. He wondered about Dawn’s reaction, what she’d think of it all.

Probably be a little overwhelming for a kid like her.

He didn’t get out of the truck. Instead, he rested his head against the seat and drank in the early spring day. A fuzz of green covered the ground and most of the trees, promising another rich, hot summer. Funny how spring could sneak up on you like that. Just when you thought winter would last forever, the sun came out and everything bloomed. Mike looked around the parking lot. He hadn’t been to a game here in years. Looked like the place was about three-quarters full, not bad for early afternoon.

The wind shifted, and he could hear the umpire’s call and the occasional crack of bat meeting ball. More applause. Then a groan. Then a crackle of the PA system.

“…little girl named Dawn Watson, please report…”

Mike sat straight up.

“Again, if there’s a girl named Dawn Watson in the stadium, your teacher is asking you to please come to the concession stand behind the—”

He didn’t hear the rest of the announcement. A knot lodged in his throat as he jumped from his truck and strode across the parking lot.
She’s disappeared again. She’s gotta be terrified. And Sienna’s probably out of her mind with worry.
Halfway to the stadium, he broke into a run.

Chapter Thirty-Four

“Physical description?” asked a heavy-jowled security guard.

Sienna twisted her fingers in the hem of her shirt. “She’s about four feet tall, blond hair in braids. She was wearing a blue T-shirt and jeans.”

“Anything else we should know?”

Tears filled Sienna’s eyes. She’d been up and down every floor of the stadium, in and out of every women’s room. It was as if Dawn had virtually vanished. “She probably won’t talk to whoever finds her.”

His pen stopped moving on his notepad. “I’m sorry?”

“She’s selectively mute. She doesn’t usually talk.”

He scratched the back of his thick neck. “Ah, okay.” He shoved his notepad into his back pocket and repeated Dawn’s description on his radio. “I’m going to notify the local police too.”

Sienna nodded.

“I’ve got four men here. They’ll scour the place.” He patted Sienna on the arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll find her. She’s probably just looking at stuffed animals in the souvenir shop.”

Sienna tried to draw a full breath and failed. She’d already been through the souvenir shop twice. She glanced at her other students, who still sat and watched the game. Caleb’s father looked up and caught her eye, but she shook her head at his questioning gaze.

I’m a failure. I lost a child.

She’d also ruined a relationship, hurt a good guy’s feelings, and probably screwed up her research. Talk about striking out.

“Why don’t you wait by concession stand in case she shows up?” the guard suggested.

Sienna nodded. What would she tell Dawn’s foster parents? Or the principal, or the other students? Worse, what would she tell Dawn if they found her and she’d gotten hurt or scared and Sienna hadn’t protected her the way she’d promised to? Her throat hitched. She laced her hands around the back of her neck and willed the ugly sobs to stay silent.
Don’t get hysterical. You won’t be any good to anyone if you can’t hold it together.

On wooden legs, she walked to the first-floor concession stand, the air ripe with the scents of popcorn and hot dogs and cotton candy. “Dawn!” She cupped her hands around her mouth and called until she was hoarse. She circled the entire stadium, checking every nook where a small, anxious girl might hide. Nothing. Back to the concession stand, where a lanky security guard shook his head with a grim expression when she asked.

“We’ll find her, ma’am,” he said.

She turned away without answering.

“Sienna?” Darryl Cobalt, the head custodian from work, walked over carrying a paper tray of hot dogs and fries.

“You’re not at school?”

He winked. “I always take off opening day. Sixteen years and running.” He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

She pressed her lips together. “One of my students is missing.”

He handed his food to a friend and took her in his arms for a quick, hard hug. “I heard the announcement. Didn’t know that was one of yours.”

Sienna nodded into his shirtfront.

“Let me help,” he asked. “Where have you already looked?”

“I, ah…” She sniffled. “I’ve looked everywhere.”

He patted her arm. “Gary,” he called over his shoulder to a burly man in the beer line. “Come on over here.”

Gary ambled over. “What’s up?”

Darryl filled him in, and within minutes, a handful of other men had joined them. Darryl divided up his buddies, pointing each to a different section of the stadium and the grounds outside. “You want to stay here?” he asked Sienna. “In case she shows up?”

Sienna gulped. “I guess so.”

A dark-haired woman with a snake tattoo covering one arm approached her. “Honey, you the one lost the little girl?”

“I hope I haven’t lost her.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant.” The woman reached into a giant patchwork bag hanging from her shoulder and pulled out a bottle of water. “Here. You look a little peaked.”

Sienna felt a little peaked, to be honest. “Thank you.”

“Don’t you worry. Kids wander off all the time. I got three of my own, half the time I don’t even know where they are.”

Sienna reserved judgment on that and instead drank more water.

“You want me to wait with you?” The woman pulled out a tube of bright pink lipstick and slathered it on. “I’m not a big fan of baseball. I’m only here ’cause my boyfriend loves it.” She waved at an overweight guy wearing a Panthers T-shirt with cut-off sleeves. A matching snake tattoo covered his arm as well. “Dougie, this woman here is the one whose little girl wandered off.”

“Aw, sorry to hear that.” Dougie stifled a burp. “They just made another announcement about her. She ain’t back yet?”

Sienna shook her head.

“You know what, hang on a minute.” He grabbed his cell phone off the holster on his hip and sent a text. “My buddy’s one of the assistant managers. I’ll tell him to look down on the field too, and around the dugouts. Ya never know about kids, they can show up in the weirdest places.”

“Oh, well, thanks.” She felt a little overwhelmed by everyone’s kindness.

“Sure, no problem.” He patted her arm. “You want help looking around?”

“I think there’s a lot of people already searching, but—”

“You got a picture of her?” Dougie’s girlfriend asked. “Maybe they could put that up on the scoreboard.”

Sienna flipped through the pictures on her phone. “I don’t know.” Once or twice last month, she’d snapped a few of them on the playground with Mike. She hadn’t looked at them since. Seeing his smile now seared her heart all over again. “Here.” Finally, she found one of Dawn standing next to the slides, eyes big, hands folded.

“Text it to me,” Dougie directed. He gave her his number and then nodded as his phone pinged with the picture. “I’ll have my buddy get it up on the screen. Picture’s worth a thousand words, ain’t it?”

Sienna nodded. Especially when it came to a mute child. That picture would be the
only
words.

“All right, honey, you hang in there,” the woman said as she and Dougie turned for the hot dog line. “What’s her name? Dawn? I’ll see if I can’t turn her up.”

“Thank you so much.” Sienna finished the last of her water. grateful down to her toes. She couldn’t believe so many total strangers were trying to help her. She looked around for a place to sit. Her legs weren’t going to hold her much longer.

Mike materialized from nowhere. “Where’s the last place you saw her?” His blue eyes bored into hers. “Before she disappeared?”

She almost slipped right down to the ground. “What are you doing here?” Relief and want and sadness at the way he kept his distance washed over her in equal measures. “Row F.” She pointed. “Third tier.”

Without another word, he turned and walked away.

Sienna followed him as he traced the same paths she’d been over five times, from the restrooms to the seats and back. She watched Darryl do the same on the other side of the stadium. A moment later, Dawn’s picture flashed onto the scoreboard with another announcement.

Mike stared at it, then at Sienna. “Wow, how’d you get that up there so fast?”

“A guy I don’t know. He and his girlfriend stopped to help.”

He turned in a slow circle. “If I were Dawn, where would I go?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know why she disappeared in the first place.”

“Too loud? Too many screaming fans? The world can be a scary place to regular people, let alone an eight-year-old girl who thinks she can’t trust it.” He caught her gaze. “Sometimes it’s easier to just disappear and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

The words fell heavy on her heart.
Tell me about it.

The eighth inning finished with another run scored by the Panthers, and Sienna walked to the top of the stairs. The teams switched sides, and a few spectators began filing out, apparently confident in their home team’s four-run advantage. Sienna flattened herself against the wall to let them pass and suddenly saw a small door marked
Private
she hadn’t seen before. Its seams blended into the concrete blocks painted in the Panthers’ team colors of red and blue.

“Where does that go?” She pointed.

Mike tried the handle. To her surprise, it creaked open. “I have no idea.” He stuck his head inside. “Up to the next deck?”

“There isn’t one.”

“Are you sure? Must be access to the roof then.”

The roof? Visions of baseball fans falling to their deaths filled her head. Her heart thumped an awful patter. “Do you think she went up there?”

“Dawn?” Mike said into the dark stairwell.

She isn’t going to answer,
Sienna almost said, but he already knew that. She wiped her forehead and realized she smelled of perspiration. Wonderful. She hadn’t washed her hair in two days, she’d ripped out the bottom hem of her shirt, and she was dissolving into a certifiable wreck with every passing minute. She bit her bottom lip and walked over to the door.

“Yes, I know it is,” he was saying.

Sienna froze.
Is he talking to her?

“Miss Cruz is awfully worried about you. We need you to come down so we can all go back to school together.”

In disbelief, Sienna stuck her head under his arm and looked up. Far at the top of the dark stairwell, a pair of eyes blinked down at them.

“Mr. Mike?” came Dawn’s plaintive voice. It was the sweetest sound Sienna had ever heard.

“Yes, sweetheart. I’m right here.” He glanced at Sienna. “And I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe with me.”

“Mr. Mike, I think I’m ready to go home now.”