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The girl smacked the book again and looked at Julia. Then she touched her chest.
It was the movement Julia had made to emphasize her own name.
“Alice?” she whispered, feeling a kind of awe move through her. “Is your name Alice?”
The girl thumped the book again. When Julia didn’t respond, the girl thumped it again.
Julia closed the book. On the cover of this ancient, well-worn edition was a painting of a pretty, blond-haired Alice with a large, brightly dressed Queen of Hearts. She touched the picture of the girl. “Alice,” she said, then she placed her hand on the flesh-and-blood girl beside her. “Is that you? Alice?”
The girl grunted and opened the book, smacking the page.
It was where they’d left off. The exact page.
Amazing.
Julia didn’t know if the reaction had been to the name or the reading, but it didn’t matter. For whatever reason, the little girl had finally stepped into this world. Julia almost laughed out loud; that was how good she felt right now.
The girl hit the book again.
“Okay, I’ll keep reading, but from now on you’re Alice. So, Alice, get in bed. When you’re under the covers again, I’ll read you a story.”
Exactly one hour later the girl was asleep and Julia closed the book.
She leaned over and kissed the tiny, sweet-scented pink cheek. “Good night, little Alice. Sleep well in Wonderland.”
ELEVEN
ELLIE WAS ALONE IN THE POLICE STATION, GOING THROUGH HER notes from this afternoon.
All those grieving parents and their missing children were counting on her.
She was terrified she’d disappoint them. It was the fear that drove her, kept her butt in this seat and her tired eyes focused on the pile of reports on her desk.
But she’d been at it too long. She couldn’t be objective anymore, couldn’t make any more notes about blood types and dental records and abduction dates. All she saw when she closed her eyes were broken families; people who still put up Christmas stockings every year for their missing children.
“I could hear you crying outside.”
She looked up sharply, sniffing hard. “I wasn’t crying. I poked myself in the eye. What are you doing here anyway?”
Cal stood there, smiling gently, his hands shoved deeply in his pockets. In a black Dark Knight tee shirt and faded jeans, he looked more like a high school kid than a married, fully grown father of three.
He pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. “You okay?”
She wiped her eyes. The smile she gave him was pure fiction; both of them knew it. “I’m out of my league, Cal.”
He shook his head. A comma of jet black hair fell across his eyes.
Without even thinking, she pushed it away. “What do I do?”
He jerked back at her touch, then laughed awkwardly. “You’ll do what you always do, El.”
“What’s that?”
“Whatever it takes. You’ll find the girl’s family.”
“No wonder I keep you around.” This time her smile was almost the real thing.
He stood up. “Come on. I’ll buy you a beer.”
