“You stay here, Peanut. You, too, Cal,” Ellie said as she got out of the car. Her heart was beating quickly. This was the most exciting call she’d ever had. Mostly, her job consisted of driving home folks who’d drunk too much or talking to kids at the local school about the dangers of drugs. But she’d prepared herself for anything. That was a lesson she’d learned from her Uncle Joe, who’d been the town’s police chief for three decades. Don’t take peace for granted, he’d said to her often. It can shatter like glass.
She’d believed him, and so, even though she’d become a cop in a kind of lackadaisical way, she’d grown into the job. Now she read up on all the newest information, kept her skills honed at the shooting range, and watched over her town with a sharp eye. It was really the only thing she’d ever been good at, besides looking good, which she took just as seriously.
She moved down the street, noticing how quiet the town was.
She could have heard a pin drop. It was unnatural for a town chock full o
f gossips.
She unclasped her holster and reached for her weapon. It was the first time she’d ever drawn it in the field.
With each step, she heard her heels click on the pavement. On either side of the street the ditches were rivers of boiling silver water. As she neared the four-way stop, she could hear whispering and see people pointing toward Chief Sealth City Park.
“There she is,” someone said.
“Chief Barton will know what to do.”
At the corner, she paused. Earl came running at her, his cowboy boot heels sounding like gunfire on the slick pavement. He moved like a marionette on slack strings, kind of akimbo and disjointed. Rain streaked his uniform.
“Shhh,” she hissed.
Earl Huff’s face scrunched into a ruddy fist. At sixty-four, he’d been a cop before Ellie was born, but he never failed to show her the utmost respect. “Sorry, boss.”
“What’s going on?” Ellie asked. “I don’t see a damn thing.”
“She showed up about ten minutes ago. Right after that big thunder crack. Y’all hear it?”
“We heard it,” Peanut said, her voice wheezy from moving so fast. Cal was beside Peanut.
Ellie spun around. “I told you both to stay in the cruiser.”
“You meant it?” Peanut said incredulously. “I thought that was one of them ‘for legal reasons’ orders. Hell, Ellie, we’re not gonna miss the first real call in years.”
Cal nodded, grinning. It made her want to smack him. She wondered if the captain of the LAPD had similar problems with his friends. With a sigh, she turned back to Earl. “Talk to me.”
“After the thunder crack, the rain stopped. Just like that. One minute it was pourin’, and then it wasn’t. Then that amazin’ sun came out. That’s when old Doc Fischer heard a wolf howl.”
Peanut shivered. “It’s like that time on Buffy when she—”
“Keep going, Earl,” Ellie said sharply.
“It was Mrs. Grimm who noticed the girl. I was getting my hair cut—and don’t say ‘What hair?’” He turned slowly and pointed. “When she climbed up that there tree, we called you.”
Ellie stared at the tree. She’d seen it every day of her life, had played in it as a kid, stood beside it to smoke bummed menthol cigarettes as a teenager, and gotten her first kiss—from Cal, no less—beneath its green canopy. She didn’t see a damn thing out of the ordinary now. “Is this some kind of joke, Earl?”
“Holy Mother o’ God. Put your glasses on, El.”
Ellie reached into her breast pocket and retrieved the over-the-counter glasses she still didn’t admit to needing. They felt alien and heavy on her face. Squinting through the oval lenses, she stepped forward. “Is that. . . ?”
“Yes,” Peanut said.
There was a child hidden high in the autumn-colored leaves of the maple tree. How could anyone climb that high on rain-slicked branches?
“How do you know it’s a girl?” Cal whispered to Earl.
“All’s I know is it’s wearing a dress and has long hair. I’m makin’ one of them education guesses.”
Ellie took a step forward to see better.