Kitchen Boss - Page 45

I was pushing her on the swings when my phone rang. Looking back now, maybe I shouldn’t have answered it, but I did. It was a supplier. I remember Maisie telling me to keep pushing her, but I couldn’t. I could barely make conversation with the caller. The kids on the playground were just too noisy and I could hardly hear a thing. I told her to go and play and that I’d push her on the swing again when I was done with my call. I saw her go to the slide and I started walking away until it was quiet enough to talk. I was reluctant to leave her, but I didn’t seem to have a choice. Besides, I trusted her.

She’s a smart kid, I told myself. She wouldn’t go anywhere with anyone.

But minutes later, when I was done with the phone call, which took longer than I thought it would, there was no sign of her.

Maisie was gone.

I called and called for her, up to a point that the other parents started to stare at me and worry. Only one of them offered to help me, though. We both searched around the playground, but it was no use. We couldn’t find Maisie.

I went back to the daycare. She wasn’t there. Some members of the staff offered to help look around. When we still couldn’t find her, I called Ken. I knew there was precious little chance Maisie would be at the restaurant, of course. She’d have had to take a cab and tell the driver the address, which I’m not even sure she remembers. Still, I had to ask Ken, or at least inform her of the situation. I would have called Cathy, too, but I wasn’t sure if she was feeling better yet.

Now, I’m at the police station, reporting the incident. Ever since I started talking to this cop, I’ve been feeling embarrassed, guilty. I have a feeling that inside his head, this officer is thinking what a lousy parent I am, and I can’t disagree with him.

I am a lousy parent for having lost my only child. If something bad happens to her – and there are a hundred possibilities – or if she’s never found, a possibility that’s growing by the second, I will never forgive myself.

I clasp my hands in front of me as I try to keep them from shaking.

Oh, what have I done?

“We’ll do our best to find her, Mr. Holloway,” the officer promises.

“Please do everything you can,” I beg him. “I don’t know what you need to do, and I don’t care how much money you need. Spare no expense. I can pay for everything. Just do whatever it takes.”

“We will do everything we can,” he assures me. “Please wait in the lobby.”

I do as he says and drop myself on one end of the couch. I can’t rest easy, though.

Will they really do everything they can? And will that be enough to find my little girl?

I bury my face in my hands.

I’m sorry, Evelyn. Please keep our little girl safe. Help her come back to me.

Please.

Suddenly, my phone rings. I frown as I see Betty’s name on the screen. I didn’t inform her about Maisie being missing, but I have a feeling she already knows.

I hold the phone against my ear. “Betty?”

“Is it true that Maisie is missing? Is it true that – ?”

“Not now, Betty,” I cut her off. “I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

She starts to protest, but I hang up. I can’t deal with her. Not right now. All I can think about now is finding Maisie.

Please let her be safe.

My phone rings again. With a sigh, I answer the call. “Betty…”

“It’s me, Cathy.”

I perk up at the sound of her voice.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I thought you were – ”

“I found her,” Cathy says. “I found Maisie.”

~

“Maisie!” I run to my little girl as soon as I get out of the car.

I wrap my arms tightly around her and close my eyes as I savor the smell of her, the softness of her hair against my face, the warmth of her small body. I thought I’d lost her. I thought I’d never hold my baby girl in my arms again.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.”

I bury my hand in her hair and press her head against my shoulder. When I open my eyes, I see Cathy standing a few feet away. She looks better than she did when I left her this morning. A soft smile lights up her face.

I carry Maisie in my arms as I stand up.

“Where did you find her?” I ask Cathy.

“In the playground,” she answers.

“The playground? But I looked and looked and…”

“Did you look inside those shells near the sand pit?” Cathy asks me.

She glances behind her at the shells, which seem to form some kind of cave or tent.

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