Bump barked up at her with enthusiasm, as if asking why she had grown so tall. “Tula,” she told him. “We’re trying to find Tula.”
He woofed again and wagged his tail. His considerable nose dropped to the ground and he began to snuffle. Watching him, Ellery seized on a slim hope. Bump was no trained working dog, but he’d been born with a nose that wouldn’t quit. “Tula,” she told him again, jumping down from the bench and shoving the purse under his nose. “Find Tula.”
She grabbed his leash and her arm jerked as he set off resolutely in a northward direction. He took a meandering route directly through the crowds. She hoped like hell that he was on the scent of the little girl and not a hot dog. He veered behind some garbage cans, past a water fountain, and into some bushes. He crashed his large front paws right through the branches, leaping up and barking. “Ha, ha! You found me! Good boy.” Tula sprang up with delight, accepting the dog kisses on the side of her face, and Ellery sagged with relief.
“Yes, good boy. You, however…” Ellery grabbed the girl’s arm and dragged her out of the brush. “You scared the crap out of me. What are you doing running off like that?”
“We’re playing hide-and-seek, him and me,” she said as she patted Bump’s head.
“Not without telling me first, you’re not. Come on, let’s go find your father before he literally does call in the rest of the FBI.”
Tula stood firm. “You’re not the boss of me.”
“Listen, bad things can happen to kids who go off without their grown-ups. You have to stay with me, at least until your father comes back.”
Tula tilted her head with interest. “Is that what happened to you? How you got those marks on your arm?”
Ellery regretted wearing the T-shirt that showed off her scars. She was trying not to hide them as much, trying not to care. Wearing her violent history on her body gave the rest of the world license to look and ask questions she’d rather not answer. She sure as hell didn’t want to be having this conversation with a seven-year-old.
“There you are!” Reed appeared, tall and lanky, no sweat visible on him. The man defied the laws of physics. He held a paper sack of food and a cardboard tray of drinks.
“Daddy!” Tula ran up and hugged him. “Ellery and I played hide-and-seek.”
“You did? That’s wonderful.” Reed grinned and looked so pleased that Ellery pursed her lips and said nothing. Her terror was just starting to fade, evaporating off her like the sheen of perspiration that had covered her body during the frantic search. She had for the first time a taste of what her mother must have felt when Ellery disappeared, and the acid at the back of her throat said this parenting gig was not for her.
Reed set up a picnic for them on a spare patch of grass and Bump eagerly dragged Ellery toward the scent of more food. She took a careful seat some distance from the father-daughter duo, tuning out their chatter as she tried to calm her frazzled nerves enough to choke down a taco. “Ellery?” Reed furrowed his brow at her. “Are you okay?”
She opened her mouth, not sure of what might come out, but before she could say anything, a woman came running past them, screeching at top volume. “Help! She’s gone! Someone, please help me!”
Reed leaped up like some superhero and dashed after her. Ellery saw him catch up to her, show off his FBI credentials, and begin walking her back to where she and Tula sat with the lunch. “If that lady lost her daughter, my daddy’ll find her,” Tula said to Ellery. “He can find anyone.”
“I know he can.” The entire city of Chicago had turned out to look for Ellery, but Reed was the one who found her, three days gone and half-dead on the floor of Coben’s closet.
“Her name is Chloe. Chloe Lockhart,” the woman was saying. Her face was streaked with tears and her chin wobbled as she spoke. “I’m her nanny—my name is Margery—but she calls me ‘Mimi’ just like my grandbabies do. Oh, I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell her parents about this.”
Ellery rose to join Reed.
“Where and when did you last see Chloe?” he asked Margery.
“Almost an hour ago, way over on that side of the Common,” she replied, pointing. “She wanted to buy a pretzel and it was just a few trucks down from where I was sitting on the bench. I said I’d go with her, but she begged me to let her go alone and I didn’t want to give up our spot. She said she’s not a baby, and I didn’t see the harm so I said okay. Why, why, why didn’t I just go with her?”
“Probably she’s just wandered off to watch the acrobats or listen to the band,” Reed said. “But we can organize a search.”
“No, I don’t think so. I think something’s happened to her.” Margery waved her cell phone at him. “I’ve been calling and texting, and she hasn’t answered. That girl’s phone lives in her left hand like it was born attached. Plus, she knows better than to ignore me.”
“Some areas are awful loud right now,” Ellery said, her own voice raised over the din. “She may not hear the phone. What is Chloe wearing today?”
Margery sniffed. “Here, I can show you.” She called up a picture of a blond girl wearing jean shorts with silver stars studded on them, a pale pink T-shirt, and Teva sandals. A beaded bracelet encircled her left wrist. “Please, I’ll do anything. Just help me find her.”
Reed looked to Ellery. “Will you stay with Tula while I make some calls?”
This was her territory, not his. “How about you stay with Tula and Bump while I make some calls?” She handed him the leash and took out her shield to show Margery. “Detective Hathaway, Boston PD. This is a local matter right now, and our officers are best equipped to handle it. Agent Markham is just visiting from Virginia.” Reed frowned at her but didn’t argue as she began leading Margery away.
“Tell me more about Chloe. If she were to run off, where would she go?”
Margery looked perplexed. “She wouldn’t run off. She’s only twelve. Besides, Chloe’s a good girl.”
“I’m sure she is. I just want to know what her interests are—favorite foods, music, that sort of thing?” Boston at that moment was a veritable buffet of sights, smells, and sounds. Ellery wanted to narrow her search.
“I—I don’t know. Normal girl stuff. She loves her dog, Snuffles. Video games. Makeup that she’s not supposed to wear. She’ll eat any kind of junk food.” The woman turned helplessly in a circle at all the vendors with their ice cream, candy, and deep-fried meat on a stick. Nearby, a toddler began wailing as his red balloon escaped into the sky. “I’m gonna call her again,” Margery said, pulling out her phone.
“Wait, take my number first. Text me her photo. If you make contact with her, let me know. I’m going to alert the officers on duty here to be on the lookout for her, okay?”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Ellery found the nearest unit and the two guys standing by. She knew one of them by sight and the other not at all. When she explained the problem, they agreed to put word out on the radio and to assist her in tracking down Chloe Lockhart. “I’m going to head to the west perimeter by the Public Garden,” Ellery said. Over by Newbury Street, with its allure of fancy shops and eateries. Just the place a twelve-year-old on her own might go.