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Lucy’s phone rang again within minutes. “Toby’s bike is gone. Mike’s out on the highway, but so far he hasn’t seen anything.”
Lucy relayed the information.
Panda took the phone from her, every inch the cop. “Bree, it’s Patrick Shade. Can I have Mike’s cell number?”
Lucy looked frantically around for something to write with, but Panda didn’t seem to need pen or paper. “Got it. Is there any particular place Toby tends to go when he’s upset?”
He listened and nodded. “Okay. What was he wearing?” He listened again. “Go to his room and look around. See if he took anything with him. A backpack? Clothes? Anything at all. Call me back when you’re done.”
“He’s going to be fine,” Lucy said to herself as he disconnected. “I know he’s fine.”
Panda was already talking to Mike. “Toby has his bike. Where are you now? All right … Check the south beach, and then stop here and we’ll work out what to do next.”
Lucy tried to imagine where she’d have gone if she were Toby. Even though he’d grown up on the island, she couldn’t imagine him huddling in the woods all night. He’d look for someplace where he’d be alone but where he’d also feel safe.
She remembered the rocky bluff Panda had made his brooding place. It was more open than the woods, and the rocks offered some shelter. While Panda headed toward the highway, she climbed the slope.
The air was still at the top, and she could hear the lap of waves below. She swept the beam over the rocks, praying for a glimpse of him. Nothing.
In a few hours, it would be dawn. Increasingly worried, she returned to the house. Panda was coming down the drive with Toby’s bike. She ran toward him. “Did you find him?”
“Only the bike. It was hidden in the trees about thirty yards up the road.”
She thought of the bikers, along with the other lowlifes who came to the island to get drunk and make trouble. “What if he left it there and hitched a ride?”
“I don’t think so. I found some footprints. It’s too dark to follow them, but my guess is that he was coming here.”
“We’ve looked everywhere.”
He gazed toward the woods. “Maybe he waited until after we’d searched before he settled in.”
Safe. Sheltered.
She and Panda moved together.
Chapter Twenty-four
LUCY FOLLOWED HIM DOWN THE steps to the dock and into the boathouse. The creaks of the boat at its mooring had been the sound track of their lovemaking, but unlike her, Panda didn’t seem to be plagued by painful memories. He directed his flashlight toward the cabin door. She was almost certain she’d latched it after she’d searched here earlier, but now it was slightly ajar. He eased it open and shone his flashlight inside. She peered around him.
Toby lay curled in the front berth, the one in the bow, sound asleep.
Her relief left her momentarily light-headed. Panda passed her cell phone back. She retreated to the stern and called Bree. “We found him in the boathouse,” she said breathlessly. “He’s asleep.”
“Asleep?” Bree sounded more furious than relieved. “Don’t let him get away! I’m coming.”
Lucy didn’t like what she was hearing, but Bree hung up before Lucy could advise her to calm down first.
Panda emerged with a very groggy, very dirty Toby. The boy’s clothes were filthy. Dried blood crusted his arm and smeared his cheek. His legs were covered with honey-saturated grime, and patches of hair were glued to his head. “I didn’t hurt anything on the boat,” he muttered, looking frightened.
“I know you didn’t,” Panda said gently.
Toby tripped on the steps up to the house and would have fallen if Panda hadn’t steadied him. Just as they reached the top, Mike came running around the side of the house. When Toby saw him, he began to stumble toward him.
“Toby!” Mike exclaimed. “What were you thinking? You should never have—”
Their reunion was interrupted by a banshee’s scream as Bree shot out of the woods. “Toby!”
Mike froze. Toby instinctively stepped backward, away from all of them, only to butt up against the picnic table.
