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The rain didn’t let up for hours, and around midnight, Daisy insisted we call Carter. I was hesitant to get the police involved—after all, it wasn’t as if she was a missing person—but as the minutes continued to tick by and there was no sign of Madeleine, I decided we could use all the help we could get.
I go back to her apartment around 3:30 AM. The receipt I taped to the door sits on the ground a few feet away, drenched. I call her cell phone and this time, there’s no chime from inside. No doubt it’s dead. How many people have tried calling her in the last few hours?
I turn and slide down to the ground, bending my knees and resting my forehead on them. I’m exhausted and drained of ideas. I know I could be out there doing more—maybe there are places we haven’t thought to check yet.
Hamilton isn’t large, but when you’re looking for one woman among acres and acres of farmland, it feels hopeless.
She’s okay.
She’s not in danger.
Even repeating the sentiment to myself, it doesn’t quite stick.
If she was okay, she would have come back by now. She would have come back for her phone, or to check to see if Mouse had returned, and if she had, she would have seen the note and called me, or Daisy, or Lucas.
Nothing makes sense.
I know I should lift my head and stand, head back out there and keep looking for her, but there’s nowhere to go. I want to be here when she gets back, so I close my eyes and wait.
At some point I fall asleep, for a few minutes or a few hours, I can’t tell.
I blink and glance down at my watch. It’s barely 6:00 AM and Madeleine still isn’t home. She would have woken me up on her way inside.
I call Lucas, and when there’s no answer, I resist the urge to throw my phone at the wall across from me. It’s useless. There’s no one else I can call. I don’t have Daisy or Carter’s number. I try Lucas one more time, and it goes straight to voicemail.
Then a police cruiser pulls up in front of Madeleine’s apartment complex. The lights are off and I can’t see through the tinted windows. I assume they’re here because of the missing persons calls—maybe Daisy forced them to expedite the report—but then I see someone step out, and from the passenger side, Madeleine follows.
I leap to my feet.
“Madeleine!”
She glances up and I register the exhaustion right away. She’s completely disheveled. There’s mud covering her legs up to her knees and her arms are just as dirty. A gray police-issue blanket rests across her shoulders and when she walks toward me barefoot, she winces as if in pain.
Carter rushes around to help her, but I’m there first, holding up most of her weight as we walk toward her apartment.
“What happened to you?” I ask, all my residual anger and fatigue gone.
I’m just so happy to see her, to know she’s all right.
She smiles up at me a bit sheepishly. “Long story. Have you seen Mouse?”
“He’s at my house, probably in need of a bathroom break.”
She closes her eyes for a moment and sighs, as if finding peace after the longest night of her life.
“I want to go with you when you let him out.”
Carter is there with us when Madeleine unlocks her door. I have so many questions I want to ask. Where’s her car? Her shoes? Why did she leave her house without her cell phone? How did Mouse get out in the first place? Why did Carter drive her back home in his cruiser?
Instead of bombarding her, I swallow down each question and quietly follow her inside.
She stands in the threshold, trying to get her bearings.
“Carter, after I grab some shoes and my cell phone, I’m going to head to Adam’s house. You can meet us there.”
“What?” I ask, staring back and forth between them.
Madeleine puts her hand on my arm. “Carter is going to have a friend help him with my car. It’s stuck in the mud out by the dog park a couple miles from here.”
Pride rises inside me as if I’m a petulant sixteen-year-old boy. “I can help you get your car. I’m sure Carter is tired.”
Her fingers squeeze my arm and her eyes implore me to listen. “Just let him do it. I want you to drive me to your house so I can see Mouse, and then I need some coffee and food. I’m starving.”
I glance back at Carter, who’s watching Madeleine like she’s a china doll about to crack. “Are you sure that’s okay?” I ask. “I could always come help you after I drop Madeleine off.”
“No,” she answers for him. “I want you to stay with me.”
