A few minutes later, Dawn was sitting in the Richardsons’ kitchen. For all of Jack’s rumpled state, his house was immaculate, as though he was channeling all his grief into cleaning—or maybe he had a housekeeper.
Dawn could feel the energy swirling around her. Could she convince Mr. Richardson to let her into Mandy’s room? Sometimes a chance presented itself, and she had to go with her gut. This was one of those times.
“Can I get you a coffee?”
Mr. Richardson was already popping a K-Cup into a Keurig machine.
“Thanks, Mr. Richardson.”
“I only have milk.”
“That’s great, thanks.”
“Sugar?”
“Yes, please.”
“One or two?”
“Two.”
He finished making her cup and set it down on the table, then sat across from her. “Jack.”
Dawn took a sip of the brew and glanced at him, a question in her eyes.
“My name is Jack. You can call me Jack.”
“Thanks, Jack. My name is Dawn.”
“Dawn, I know Mandy is out there somewhere. Can you help me find her?”
She took another sip of coffee to steel her nerves. “I can only try. This is not an exact science, but being in her home,” she said, glancing around, “is helpful. I can feel Mandy’s energy.”
Jack leaned forward, his eyes alight, like a starving man being offered a steak dinner. “Can you see her?”
“I can sense her but—would you let me into her bedroom?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Come with me.”
Leading her down a hall, he opened the second to last door on the right. “This is Mandy’s room.”
“May I?”
He nodded, and Dawn stepped into the room. She felt light-headed as soon as she crossed the threshold. Turning to him, she whispered, “Can you leave me in here for a few minutes with the door closed?”
Jack hesitated.
“I know you don’t know me, but I swear I won’t take anything.”
“Of course. Forgive me for my city cynicism.” He closed the door, and she heard his footsteps retreat down the hall.
Dawn turned in a slow circle, her eyes taking in everything in the room, from the princess quilt on the bed, to the pink walls, to the large number of stuffed toys lovingly sitting on a shelf, waiting patiently for the little girl whose imagination could bring them to life.
Everything she’d previously seen in her mind was right in front of her.
Dawn sat down on Mandy’s bed and closed her eyes. She began to breathe deeply, in and out… “C’mon, Mandy, show me something.”
A series of images flashed in her mind. A bedroom. A dump, really…drug paraphernalia scattered on the nightstand. A woman was sitting hunched over on a chair. She looked familiar, dirty blonde hair, skinny. She had a badge pinned to her shirt that said HOUSECLEANING STAFF, and below it the name SUZIE BAXTER. Mick’s girlfriend…but where are you, Mandy? Show me.
